ftm *'-' Pi Jt'*^ (filter SHk WK N4845cml _dBfl V * *-* "i J *»•* CO hi X S^ ft "a c 03 «* o CO .** &< . «© g it 2 W fc >^ ^ , _g£ M _Q .§ g V ^P Ph "O •<: S ft S i ^ £ %** C ^ ^ % O c/5 ? s *i >$• ^ 7>C £3 /:%' i syn^tfaj OF THE KEV. JOHN NEWTON, 7\ LATE RECTOR OF THE UNITED PARISHES OF ST. MARY WOOLNOTHy AND MARY WOOLCHURCH HAW. LOMBARD STBBET WITH GENERAL REMARKS ON HIS I B, CONNEXIONS, AND CHARACTER y BY RICHARD CECIL, A. M. Minister of St. John's, Bedford Row. NEW-YORK : PUBLISHED BY THOMAS A. RONALDS, BOOKSELLER AND STATIONER, • No. 188, Pearl Street. 1809. /. *Ot T VItf& ; . PBINTER, PHILADELPHIA PREFACE TO THE SECOND LONDON EDITION THE Memoirs of the Hon. and Rev. Wil- liam Bromley Cadogan, and those of John Ba- con, 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 under a weight of years, and considered how soon, from the very course of nature the world must lose so valuable an in- structor and example — When I reflected how common it is for hasty and inaccurate accounts of extraordinary characters to be obtruded on the public by venal writers, whenever more au- thentic documents are wanting — 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 do. a< PREFACE. pcndance upon that Providence in the most trying circumstances— I say, on these accounts I felt that the leading Features of such a cha- racter 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 in- terests : the number, however, of this kind which I have seen, and that appeared unexcep- tionable, 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 discov- er the putridity they contain, and infect more or less whoever ventures within their baneful influence ; so the reformed subject of these Memoirs was happily a remarkable instance of the reverse : the change that took place in his heart, after such a course of profligacy, af- fords a convincing demonstration of the truth PREFACE. and force of Christianity. Instead of proceed- ing as a blight in society, he became a bles- sing ; his future course was a striking example of the beneficial eficcis of the Gospel ; and that, not only from the pulpit, and by his pen, but also by his conversation in the large circle of his acquaintance, of which there is, yet li- ving, a multitude of witnesses. Impressed, therefore, with the advantage which I conceived would result from the pub- lication of these Memoirs, I communicated my design some^years ago to Mr. N. — What- ever tended to promote that cause in which his heart had been long engaged, I was sure would not fail to obtain his concurrence. He accord- ingly 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 add- ed from my xnvn observation ; and he soon af- ter brought me an account in writing, contain- ing every thing memorable which he recollect- ed before the commencement of his Narrative. A 2 PREFACE. 1 shall, therefore, detain the reader no longer than to assure him that the whole of the follow- ing Memoirs, (except what relates to Mr. N.'s character,) was submitted to him in MS- while he was capable of correcting it, and recei- ved his sanction. April 1808, MEMOIRS OF THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. THESE Memoirs seem naturally to cor^ mence with the account mentioned in the Pr^ face and which I here transcribe : " I was born in London the 24th of July 1725, old style. My parents though not weal- thy were respectable. My father was many years master of a ship in the Mediterranean trade. In the year 1748 he went Governour of York Fort in Hudson's Bay, w r here he died in the year 1750." " My mother was a dissenter, a pious wo- man, and a member of the late Dr. Jennings' church. She was of a weak, consumptive ha-, bit, loved retirement, and as I was her only child, she made it the chief business and plea- sure of her life to instruct me, and bring 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 ministry, and that. 8 MEMOIRS OF THE had she lived till I was of a proper age, I was to have been sent to St. Andrews in Scotland to be educated. But the Lord had appointed otherwise. My mother died before I was se- ven years of age. " I was rather of a sedentary turn, net active and playful, as boys commonly are, but seem- ed as willing to learn, as my mother was to teach me. I had some capacity, and a reten- tive memory. When I was four years old, I €l>uld 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. Watts' smaller Catechisms, and his Children's Hymns. " When my father returned from sea, after iny mother's death, he married again. My new mother was the daughter of a substantial grazier at Avely in Essex — She seemed wil- ling 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 fa- ther was a very sensible, and a moral man, as the world rates morality, 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. REV. JOHN NEWTON. V " I never was at school but 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 w^as at school, instead of making a progress, I nearly forgot all that my good mo- ther 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 Mediter- ranean. 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 him I might have done well, if I had behaved well. But by this time, my sinful propensi- ties had gathered strength by habit : I was ve- ry wicked, and therefore very foolish; and be- ing my own enemy, I seemed determined that nobody should my friend. " My father left the sea, in the year 1742, I made one voyage afterwards to Venice before 10 MEMOIRS OF THE the mast, and soon after my return was im- pressed on board the Harwich. — Then began my awfully mad career as recorded in the Nar- rative ; to which, and to the Letters to a Wife, I must refer you for any farther dates and in- cidents, ^i " I 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, ca- techisms, hymns, and poems; and often com- mended him with many prayers and tears to God — also that in his sixth year he began to learn Latin, though the intended plan of his educa- tion was soon broken — and that he lost this valuable parent, July 11th, 1732." 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 obser- ving and suiting his temjper, 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 REV. JOHN NEWTON. 1 i school was Tully and Virgil. — But by be pushed forward too fast and not property grounded, (a method too common in inferiour 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 w^s taken by his father to sea. His father was a man of remarkable 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 Jesuit's 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 de- prived him of that influence he might otl wise have had. From this time to the year 1742 Mr. N. made several voyages, but at considerable in- tervals : these intervals were chiefly spent in the country, excepting a few months in his fifteenth year, when he was placed with a verj advantageous prospect at Alicant already -men* tioned. About this period of his life, with a tern per and conduct exceedingly various, he v 12 MEMOIRS OP THE often disturbed with religious convictions, and being from a child fond of reading, he met with Bennet's Christian Oratory, and though he understood little of it, the course of life it recommended appeared very desi- rable. He therefore began to pray, to read the Scriptures, to keep a diary, and thought himself religious ; but soon became weary of it, and gave it up. He then learned to curse and to blaspheme, and was exceed- ingly wicked when out of the view of his pa- rents, though at so early a period. Upon his being thrown from a horse near a dangerous hedge-row, newly cut, his con- science suggested to him the dreadful conse- quences of appearing in such a state before God. This put him, though but for a time, upon breaking off these profane practices ; but the consequence of these struggles between sin and conscience, was, that on every relapse he sunk into still greater depts of wickedness. He was roused again, by the loss of a compa- nion who had agreed to go- with him one Sun- day on board a man of war. Mr. N. provi- dentially 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 REV. JOHN NEWTC his companion, to think that by the delay c few minutes, (which at- the time occasioned much anger,) his life had been preserved : but. this also was soon forgotten. The perusal oi the Family Instructor produced another tern- porary reformation. In short, he took up and laid aside a religious profession three or four different 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 1 loved sin and was unwilling to forsake it — I was so strangely blind and stupid, that sometimes, when I have been determined upon things which I knew were sinful, I could not go on quietly till I had first dispatched my ordinary task of prayer, in which I have grudged every moment of the tim~ ; when this was finished, my conscience was in some measure pacified, and I could rush into folly with little remorse." But his last reform was the most remarkable* 14 Of this period," says he, " at least of some part of it, I may say in the Apostle's words, Af- ter the strictest sect of our religion. Hived a Pha- risee. I did every thing that might be expected from a person entirely ignorant of God's right- eousness, and desirous to establish his own* J B 14 , MEMOIRS OF THE spent the greatest part of every day in reading the Scriptures, and in meditation, and prayer. I fasted often : I even abstained from all ani- mal food for three months. I would hardly an- swer a question for fear of speaking an idle word : I seemed to bemoan my former miscar- riages very earnestly, and sometimes with tears : in short I became an ascetic, and en- deavoured, as far as my situation w r ouid per- mit, to renounce society, that I might avoid temptation." This reformation, it seems, continued for more than two years. But he adds, " 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 Shaftsbury. 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 Rhup- REV. JOHN NEWTON. 15 sody, suited the romantic turn of his mind. Unaware of its tendency, he imagined he had found a valuable guide. This book was al- ways in his hand, till he could nearly repeat the Rhapsody. Though it produced no im- mediate effect, it operated like a slow poison, and prepared the way for all that followed. About the year 1742, having lately come from a voyage, his father not intending to re- turn to sea, was contriving for Mr. N.'s set- tlement in the world. But to settle a youth 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 reli- gion, philosophy, and indolence, and quite averse to order, must prove a great difficulty. At length a merchant in Liverpool, an inti- mate friend fl£ the father, and afterwards a singular friend to the son, offered to send him for some years to Jamaica, and undertook the charee of his future welfare. This was con- consented to, and preparation made for the voyage, which was to be prosecuted the fol- lowing week. In the mean time, he was sent by his father on some business to a place, a few miles beyond Maidston in Kent. But the journey, which was designed to last but three or four days, gave such a turn to his mind, as 16 MEMOIRS OF THE roused him from his habitual 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 re- lations in Kent. They were particular friends of his Mother, who died at their house , but a coolness having taken place upon his father's second marriage, all intercourse between them had ceased. As his road lay within half a mile of the house, and he had 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 ^affection for her, as appears to have equalled all that the writers cf romance have imagined. u I soon lost," says he, " ail sense of reli- gion, and became deaf to the remonstrances of conscience and prudence, but my regard for her was always the same ; and I may, per- haps, venture to say, that none of the scenes of misery mid wickedness I afterwards experi- enced, ever banished her a single hour to- gether from my waking thoughts for the seven following years, HEV. JOHN NEW'I. 17 His heart being now melted to a particular ©bject, e\ ery thing with which he was concern- ed, appeared in a new light. He could not now bear the thought of living at such a distance as Jamaica, for four or five years, and therefore de- termined not to go thither. He dared not com- municate with his father on this point, but in- stead of three days, he staid three weeks in Kent, till the ship had sailed, and then he return- ed to London. His Father, though highly dis- pleased, became reconciled, and in a little time he sailed with a friend of his father's to Ve- nice. In this voyage, being a common sailor, and exposed to the company of his comrades, he began to relax from the sobriety which he had preserved, in some degree, for more than two years. Sometimes, pierced with convictions, he made a few faint efforts as formerly to stop ; and though not yet absolutely profligate, he was making large strides towards a total apos- tasy from God. At length, he received a re- markable 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 appli- b 2 MEMOIRS OF THE cation of this one in particular, to his own cir- cumstances : " The scene presented to my imagination, was the harbour of Venice, where we had lately been. I thought it was night, and my watch upon the deck ; and that as I w as walking to and fro by myself, a person came to me (I do not femember from whence^, and brought me a ring, with an express charge to keep it carefully ; assuring me that while I pre- served that ring, I should be happy and suc- cessful : but if I lost or parted with it, I must expect nothing but trouble and misery. — I accepted the present and 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 en- gaged in these thoughts, when & second per- son came to me, and observing the ring on my finger, took occasion to ask me some ques- tions concerning it. I readily told him its vir- tues, and his answer expressed a surprise 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 told me, in direct terms, to throw it away. At first I was shocked at the proposal, but his insinua- tions prevailed, I began to reason and doubt, REV. JOHX NEWTON. 19 and at last pluked it oft' r i r, and drop i 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 ap- peared at some distance behind the city of Venice. I saw r the hills as distinct as if a- wakc, and that they I in flames. I per- ceived, too late, my foliy ; and my tempter, with an air of insult, informed me, that all the mercy God had in reserve for me, was compri- sed in that ring, which I had wilfully thrown I understood that I must now go with him to the burning mountains, and that all the flames I saw w r ere kindled on my account. I trembled, and was in a great agony ; so that it was surprising I did not then awake, but i dream continued, and when I thought myself upon the point of a constrained departs and stood self- condemned, without plea or hope, suddenly, either a third person, or the same who 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. 20 MEMOIRS OF THE supposing I had my ring again. I could hardly answer to this, for I thought it was gone be- yond recall. 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 returned bringing the ring with him : the moment he came onboard, 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 deliverer to receive the ring again ; but he refused to return it, and spoke to this effect : " If you should be entrust- " ed with this ring again, you would very soon " bring yourself into the same distress; you u are not able to keep it, but I will preserve " it for you, and whenever it is needful, will 6 ' produce it in your behalf." — Upon this I awoke, in a state of mind not to be described : I could hardly eat, or sleep, or transact my necessary business for two or three days : but the impression soon wore off, and in a little time I totally forgot it ; and I think it hardly occurred to my mind again till several years afterwards." U£V, JOHN NEWTON. Nothing remarkable occurred in the follow- ing part of that voyage. Mr. N. returned home in December 1743, and repeating his visit to Kent, protracted his stay in the same imprudent manner he had done before. This so disappointed his Father's designs for his in- terest, as almost induced him to disown his son. Before any thing suitable offered again, this thoughtless son, unmindful of the conse- quences of appearing in a check'd shirt, was marked by a Lieutenant of the Harwich Man of war, who immediately imj essed and car- ried him on board a tender. This was at a critical juncture, as the French Fleets were hovering upon our coast; so that his Father was incapable of procuring his release. A few days after, he was sent on board the Har- wich at the Nore. Here a new scene of life was presented, and for about a month, much hardship endured. As a war was daily expect- ed, his Father was willing he should remain in the navy, and procured him a recommen- dation to the Captain, who sent him upon the. quarter deck as a midshipman. He might now have had ease and respect, had it not in for his unsettled mind, and indiffen behaviour. The companions he met with here, completed the ruin of his principle ~2 MEMOIRS OF THE though he affected to talk of virtue, and pre- served some decency, yet his delight and ha- bitual practice was wickedness. His principal companion was a person of talents and observation, an expert and plausi- ble infidel, whose zeal was equal to his ad- dress. " I have been told," says Mr. N. " that afterwards he was overtaken in a voy- age from Lisbon in a violent storm ; the ves- sel and people escaped, but a great sea broke onboard, 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, perceiving that Mr. N. had not Idst all the restraints of conscience, at first spoke in favour of religion ; and ha- ving gained Mr. N.'s confidence, and per- ceiving his attachment to the Characteristics, he soon convinced his pupil that he had never understood that book. By objections :~nd ar- guments Mr. N.'s depraved heart was soon gained. He plunged into infidelity with all his spirit, and like an unwary sailor who quits his post just before a rising storm, the hopes and comforts of the Gospel were renounced at the very time when every other comfort was about to fail. In December 1744, the Harwich was in the REV. JOHN NEWTON. Downs, bound to the East Indies. The Cap. tain gave Mr. X. leave to go on shore fo day ; but, with his usual inconsideration, and following the dictates of a restless passion, he went to take a last leave of the object vi ith which he was so infatuated. — Little satisfac- tion attended the interview in such circum- stances, and on new year's day he returned to the ship. The Captain was so highly dis- pleased at this rash step, that it occasioned ever after the loss of his favour. At length they sailed from Spithead, with a very large fleet. They put in to Torb.iy, with a change of wind, but sailed the next day, on its becoming fair. Several of the fleet were lost at leaving the place, but the following night the whole fleet was greatlv en- dangered upon the coast of Cornwall b storm from the southward. The Ship on which Mr. N. was aboard, escaped unhn though several times in danger of being run down by other vessels ; but many suffered much : this occasioned their putting back to Plymouth. While they lay at Plymouth, Mr. X. heard that his Father, who had an interest in some of the ships latelyJWost, was come down to Torbay. lie thought that,, if he could sec 24 MEMOIRS OF THE Father, he might easily be introduced into a service which would be better than pursuing a long and uncertain voyage to the East In- dies. It was his habit in those unhappy days, never to deliberate ; as soon as the thought oc- curred, he resolved to leave the ship at all events : he did so, and in the worst manner possible. He was sent one day in the boat to prevent others from desertion, but betrayed his trust, and deserted himself: not knowing which road to take, and fearing to inquire, lest he should be suspected, yet having some general idea of the country, "he found, after he had travelled some miles, that he was on the road to Dartmouth. That day and part of the next, every thing seemed to go on smoothly. He walked fast, and thought to have seen his Father in about two hours, when he was met by a small party of soldiers, whom he could not avoid or deceive : they brought him back to Plymouth, through the streets of which he proceeded guarded like a felon. Full of in- dignation, shame, and fear, he was confined two days in the guard-house, then sent on ship-board, and kept awhile in irons ; next he was publicly stript and whipl, degraded from his office^ and all his forlner companions for- bidden to show him the least favour f or even B EV. JOHN NEWTON. to speak to him. As Midshipman he had lx entitled to command, in which (being suffi- ciently haughty and vain) he had not been temperate ; but was now in his turn brought down to a level with the lowest, and exposed to the insults of all. The state of his mind at this time can only be properly expressed in his own words : " As my present situation was uncomforta- ble, my future prospects were still worse ; the evils I suffered were likely to grow heavier every day. While my catastrophe was recent, the officers and my quondam brethren were something disposed to screen me from ill usage ; but, during the little time I remained with them afterwards, I found them cool very fctst in their endeavours to protect me. In- deed, they could not avoid such conduct with- out running a great risk of sharing with me :- for the Captain, though in general a humane man, who behaved very well to the shfyte com- pany, was almost implacable in his resentment, and took several occasions to show it, and the . voyage was expected to be (as it proved) five years. Yet nothing I either felt or fea distressed me so much as to see myself thus forcibly torn away from the object of n\) C 26 MEMOIRS OF THE fections, under a great improbability of seeing her again, and a much greater of returning in such a manner as would give me hope of see- ing her mine* " Thus I was as miserable on all hands as could well be imagined. My breast was filled with the most excruciating passions, eager desire, bitter rage, and black despair. Every hour exposed me to some new insult, and hard- ship, with no hope of relief or mitigation ; no friend to take my part, nor to listen to my com- plaint. Whether I looked inward or outward, I could perceive nothing but darkness and misery. I think no case, except that of a con- science wounded by the wrath of God, could be more dreadful than mine ; I cannot express with w r hat wishfulness and regret, I cast my last looks upon the English shore ; I kept my eyes fixed upon it, till the ship's distance in- creasing, it insensibly disappeared ; and when I could see it no longer, I was tempted to throw myself into the sea, which (according to the wicked system I had adopted) would put a period to all my sorrows at once. But the secret hand of God restrained me." During his passage to Madeira, Mr. N. describes himself as a prey to he most gloomy thoughts ; though he had deserved all, and REV. JOHN NEW TON". 27 more than all he had met with from the Cap- tain, yet pride suggested that he had been grossly injured ; " and this so far," - " wrought upon my wicked heart, that I ac- tually forified designs against his life, and that was one reason which made me willing to prolong my own. I was sometimes divided between the two, not thinking it practicable to ei »h. The Lord had now to appear- ance given me up to Judicial hardness ; I capable of any thing. I had not the least fear of God before my eyes, nor (so far as I remem- ber) the least sensibility of conscience. I was possessed with so strong a spirit of delusion, that I believed my own lie, and was firmly per- suaded that after death I should cease to be. — Yet the Lord preserved me ! — Some inter- vals of sober reflection would at times take place : when I have chosen death rather than life, a ray of hope would come in (though there was little probability for such a hope) that I should yet see better days, that I might return to England, and have my wishes crown- ed, if I did not wilfully throw myself away. In a word, my love to Mrs. N. was now the only restraint I had left : though I neither God, nor regarded man, I could not bear that 28 MEMOIRS OF THE she should thmk^ meanly of me, when I was dead." * v Mr. N. had now been at Madeira some- time ; the business of the fleet being com- pleted, they were to sail the following day : on that memorable morning he happened to be late in bed, and would have continued to sleep, but that an old companion, a Midship- man, came down between jest and earnest, and bid him rise. As he did not immediately comply, the Midshipman cut down the ham- mock in which he lay ; this obliged him to dress himself : and though very angry, he durst not resent it, but was little aware that this person, without design, was a special instrument of God's providence. Mr. N. said little, but went upon deck, where he saw a man putting his own clothes into a boat and informed Mr. N. he was going to leave the ship. Upon inquiry, he found that two men from a Guir * a ship, which lay near them, had entered on board the Harwich, and that the. Commodore, (the late Sir George Pocock,) had ordered the Cap- tain to send two others in their room. Infla- med with this information, Mr. N. requested (hat the boat might be detained a few minutes ; he then entreated the Lieutenants to intercede with the Captain that he might be dismissed REV. JOHN NEWTON. 2V upon this occasion : though he had fonm behaved ill to these Officers, they were moved with pity, and were disposed to serve him. The Captain who had refused to exchange him at Plymouth, though requested by Admiral Medley, was easily prevailed with now. In little more than half an hour from his beino: a- sleep in bed, he found himself discharged, and safe on board another Ship : the events depending upon this change, will shew it to have been the most critical and important. The Ship he now^entered, was bound to Sierra Leone, and the adjacent parts of what is called the windward coast of Africa. The commander knew his father, received him kindly, and made professions of assistance ; and probably would have been his friend, if, instead of profiting by his former errors, he had not pursued a course, if possible, worse. He was under some restraint on board the Harwich, but being now among strangers, he could sin without disguise. — "I well remem- ber," says he, " that while I was passing from one ship to the other, I rejoiced in the ex- change with this reflection, that I might tli -indoned as I pleased, withe id from this time, I w ulinglv g short of • C 2 JO MEMOIRS OF THE animated description of an almost irrecove- rable state, which we have in 2 Peter,ii. 14 I not only sinned with a high hand myself, but made it my study to tempt and seduce others upon every occasion : nay, I eagerly sought occasion, sometimes to my own hazard and hurt." By this conducthe soon forfeited the favour of his Captain : for, besides being care- less and disobedient, upon some imagined af- front, he employedhis mischievous wit in mak- ing a song to ridicule the Captain as to his ship, his designs, and his person ; and he taught it to the whole ship's company. He thus proceeded for about six months, at which time the ship was preparing to leave the coast ; but, a few days before she sailed, the captain died. Mr. N. was not upon much better terms with his mate, who succeeded to the command, and upon some occasion had treated him ill. He felt certain, that if he went in the ship to the West Indies, the mate w r ould have put him on board a Man of war, a conse- quence more dreadful to him than death itself : to avoid this, he determined to remain in Africa, and pleased himself with imagining it would be an opportunity of improving his fortune. Upon that part of the coast there were a few white men settled, whose business it was to purchase slaves, &c. and sell them to the ships REV. JOHN NEWTON. 31 at an advanced price ; on€ of these who had first landed in circumstances similar to Mr. N.\s had acquired considerable wealth. This man had been in England, and was returning in the same vessel with Mr. N. of which he owned a quarter part. His example impressed Mr. N. with hopes of the same success, and he obtained his discharge upon condition of entering into the trader's service, to whose generosity he trusted without the precaution of terms. He received, however, no compen- sation for his time on board the ship, but a bill upon the Owners in England, who failing before his return, the bill was never paid ; the day, therefore, on which the vessel sailed, he landed upon the island of Benanoes like one ship- wrecked, with little more than the clothes upon his back. " The two following years," sayshe, " ofwhich I am now to give some account, w r ill seem as an absolute blank in my life : but, I have seen frequent cause since to admire the mercy of God in banishing me to those distant parts, and almost excluding me from all society at a time when I was big with mischief, and, like one infected with a pestilence, was capable of spreading a taint wherever I went. — But the Lord wisely placed me where I could do little harm. The few I had to converse w r ith were $2 MEMOIRS OF THE too much like myself, and I was soon brought into such abject circumstances that I was too low. to have any influence. I was rather shun- ned and despised than imitated, there being few even of the negroes themselves, during the first year of my residence, but thought themselves too good to speak to me. I was as yet an outcast, ready to perish, but the Lord beheld me with mercy— he even now bid me live ; and I can only ascribe it to his secret upholding power that what I suffered in a part of this interval, did not bereave me either of mv life or senses." The reader will have a better idea of the station Mr. N. was now in, by his brief sketch of it. " From Cape de Verd, the most western point of Africa, to Cape Mount, the whole coast is full of rivers : the principal are the Gambia, Rio Grande, Sierra Leone, andSher- bro. Of the former, as it is well known, and as I was never there, I need say nothing. The Rio Grande (like the Nile) divides into many bran- ches near the sea. On the most northerly, called Cacheo, the Portuguese have a settlement. The most southern branch, known by the name of Rio Nuna, is, or was, the usual boundary of the white men's trade northward. Sierra Leone is a mountainous peninsula, uninhabited, and I REV. JOHN NEWTON. 33 believe inaccessible, upon account of the thick woods, excepting those parts which lie near the water. The river is large and navigable. From hence about twelve leagues to the south east, are three contiguous Islands, called the Benanoes, twenty miles in circuit : this was about the centre of the white men's residence. Seven leagues farther the same way, lie the Plantanes, three small islands two miles distant from the continent, at the point which forms one side of the Sherbro. This river is more properly a sound, running within a long island, and receiving the confluence of several large rivers, ' rivers unknown to song,' but far more deeply engraven in my remembrance, than the Po or Tiber — The southernmost of these has a very peculiar course almost parallel to the coast ; so that in tracing it a great many leagues upwards, it will seldom lead one above three miles, and sometimes not more than half a mile from the sea shore." Mr. N.'s new master had resided near Cape Mount, but at this time had settled at the Plan- tanes on the largest of the three islands. It is low and sandy, about two miles in circumference, and almost covered with palm-trees. They immediately began to build a house. Mr. N. had some desire to retrieve his time and cha- 34 MEMOIRS OF THE racter, and might have lived tolerably well, with his master, if this man had not been much under the direction of a black woman, who lived with him as a w r ife, and influenced him against his new servant. She was a person of some consequence in her own country, and he owed his first rise to her interest. This wo- man, for reasons not konwn, was strangely prejudiced against Mr. N. from the first; he also had unhappily a severe fit of illness, which attacked him before he had opportunity to shew what he could or would do in the ser- vice of his master. Mr. N. w T as sick when his master sailed in a shalop to Rio Nuna, and was left in the hands of this woman. He was ta- ken some care of at first, but not soon recover- ing, her attention was wearied, and she entire- ly neglected him. Sometimes it was with diffi- culty he could procure a draught of cold wa- ter w^hen burning with a fever ! His bed was a mat, spread upon a board or chest, with a log for his pillow. Upon his appetite returning after the fever left him, he would gladly have eaten, but u no one gave unto him." She liv- ed in plenty, but scarcely allowed him suffici- ent to sustain life, except now and then, when in the highest good humour, she would send him victuals in her own plate after she had REV. JOHN KEWTON. dined. And this (so greatly was he humbK he received with thanks and eagerness, as the most needy beggar does an alms. " Once," says he, " I well remember, I was called to receive this bonnty from her own hand, but being exceedingly weak and feeble, I drop- ped the plate. Those who live in plenty can hardly conceive how this loss touched me ; but she had the cruelty to laugh at my disappoint- ment, and though the table was covered with dishes (for she lived much in the Euro} manner,) she refused to give me any more. My distress has been at times so great as to compel me to go by night, and pull up roots in the plantation (though at the risk of being punished as a thief,) which I have eaten raw up- on the spot, for fear of discovery. The n I speak of are very wholesome food, when boiled or roasted, but as unfit to be eaten raw in auy quantity as a potatoe. The conse- quence of this diet, which after the first expe- riment I always expected, and seldom missed, was the same as if I had taken tartar emetic ; so that I have often returned as empty as I went, yet necessity urged me to repeat the tri- al several times. I have sometimes been re- lieved by strangers ; yea even by the slaves iu the chain, who have secretly brought me vie- 36 MEMOIRS OF THE tuals (for they durst not be seen to do it) from their own slender pittance. Next to pressing want, nothing sits harder upon the mind, than scorn and contempt, and of this likewise I had an abundant measure." When slowly recovering, the same woman would sometimes pay Mr. N. a visit, not to pity or relieve, but to insult him. She would call him worthless and indolent, and compel him to walk ; which when he could scarcely do, she would set her attendants to mimic his motions, to clap their hands, laugh, throw limes at him, and sometimes they would even throw stones. But though her attendants were forced to join in this treatment, Mr. N. was rather pitied than scorned, by the mean- est of her slaves, on her departure. When his master returned from the voyage, Mr. N. complained of ill usage, but was not credited, and as he did it in her hearing, he fared worse for it. He accompanied his mas- ter in his second voyage, and they agreed pret- well, till his master was persuaded by a brother trader, that Mr. N. was dishonest. This seems to be the only vice he could not be charged with, as his honesty seemed to be the last > ris of a good education which he could:. of: i i*h ugh his great dis- REV. JOHN NEWTON. tress might have been a strong temptation to fraud, it seems he never once thought of de- frauding his master in the smallest matter. The charge, however, w r as believed, and he was condemned without evidence. From that time he was used very hardly ; whenever his master left the vessel, he was locked upon deck with a pint of rice for his day's allowance, nor had he any relief till his master's return. " Indeed," says he, " I believe I should have been nearly star* ved, but for an opportunity of catching fish sometimes. When fowls were killed for my master's ownuse, I seldom was allowed any part but the entrails, to bait my hooks with : and, at what we called slack-w r ater, that is, about the changing of the tides, when the current was still, I used generally to fish, (at other times it was not practicable,) and I very often succeeded. If I saw a fish upon my hook, my joy was little less than any other person would have found in the accomplishment of the scheme he had most at heart. Such a fish, has* tily 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. D 38 MEMOIRS OF THE "Nor did I suffer less from the inclemency €>f 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 cap, and a cotton cloth about two yards long, to supply 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 least shelter, when my master was on shore. I feel to this day some faint returns of the violent pains I then contracted. The excessive cold and wet I endured in that voyage, and so soon after I had recovered from a long sickness, quite broke 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 wages of 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 wholesome repentance. While his spirits sunk the language of the Prodigal was far from him : destitute of resolution, and almost REV. JOHN NEWTON. 39 all reflection, he had lost the fierceness which fired him when on board the Harwich, and rendered him capable of the most desperate attempts, but he was no further 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 myself 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. 5 ' These words of Jacob might well affect Mr. N. — when re- membering the days in which he was busied, in planting some lime or lemon trees. The plants he put in the ground were no higher than a young gooseberry bush. His master and mistress, in passing the place, stopped a- while to look at him ; at length his master said, 40 MEMOIRS OF THE " 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? we see strange things some time happen." — " This," says Mr. Newton, " as he intended it, was a cutting sarcasm. I believe 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 mention- ed, and pluck some of the first limes from those very trees. How can I proceed in my rela- tion, till I raise a monument to the divine goodness, by comparing tliC Circumstances in which the Lord has since placed me, with what I was 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, Mere still darker than my outward condition — how little would you have imagined, that one, who REV. JOHN NEWTON. 41 so fully answered to the svyfoi km iaiwHk* of the Apostle, was reserved to be so peculiar an instance of the providential care, and exube- rant goodness of God. — There was at that time, but one earnest desire of my heart, which ; not contrary and shocking both to religion and reason ; that one desire, though my vile licentious life rendered me peculiarly unwor- thy of success, and though a thousand difficul- ties seemed to render it impossible, the Lord was pleased to gratify." Things continued thus nearly twelve months. In this interval Mr. N. wrote two or three times to his Father, describing his condition, and desiring his assistance ; at the same time signifying, that he had resolved not to return to England, unless his parent were pleased to send for him. His Father applied to his friend at Liverpool, who gave orders accordingly, to a Captain of his who was then fitting out for Gambia and Sierra Leone. Some time within the year, Mr. N. obtain- ed his master's consent to live with another tra- der who dwelt upon the same island. This change was much to his advantage, as he w r as soon decently clothed lived in plenty, was * Hateful and hating one another. D 2 42 MEMOIRS OF THE treated as a companion, and trusted with his effects to the amount of some thousand pounds. This man had several factories, and white ser- vants in different places ; particularly one in Kit- tam, the river already described as running so near along the sea coast. Mr, N. was soon appointed there, and had a share in the ma- nagement of business, jointly with another ser- vant : they lived as they pleased ; business flourished ; and their employer was satisfied. "Here," says he, " I began to be wretch enough to think my self happy. Thereisasigni- ficant phrase frequently used in those parts, that such a white man is grown black. Itjdoes not in- tend an alteration of complexion, but disposi- tion. I have known several, who settling in Africa after the age of thirty or forty, have at that time of life been gradually assimilated to the tempers, customs, and ceremonies of the natives, so far as to prefer that country to Eng- land; they have even become dupes to all the pretended charms, necromancies, amulets, and divinations of the blinded negroes, and put more trust in such things than the wiser sort among the natives. A part of this spirit of infatuation was growing upon me (in time, perhaps, I might have yielded to the whole ;) I entered into closer engagements with the in. REV. JOHN NEWTON, 43 habitants, and should have lived and died a wretch amongst them, if the Lord had not watched over me for good. Not that I had lost those ideas which chiefly engaged my heart to England, but a despair of seeing them accom- plished, made me willing to remain where ] was. I thought I could more easilv bear the disappointment in this situation than nearer home. But, as soon as I had fixed my con- nexions and plans with these views, the Lord providentially interposed to break them in pieces, and save me from ruin, in spite of myself." — In the mean time the ship that had orders to bring Mr. N. home arrived at Sierra Leone. The Captain made enquiry for Mr. N. there, and at theBonanas ; but finding he was at a great distance, thought no more about him. A spe- cial providence seems to have placed him at Kittam just at this time ; for the ship coming no nearer than the Bonanas and staying but a few days, if he had been at the Plantanes, he would not probably have heard of the ship till she had sailed : the same must have certainly been the event had he been sent to any other factory, of which his new master had several. But though the place he went to was a long Way up the river, much more than a hundred 44 MEMOIRS OF THE miles distant from the Plantanes, yet by its peculiar situation already "noticed, he was still within a mile of the sea coast. The interposi- tion was also more remarkable, as at that very juncture, he was going in quest of trade, di- rectly from the sea, and would have set out a day or two before, but that they waited for a few articles from the next ship that came, in order to complete the assortment of goods he w r as to take with him. They used sometimes to walk to the beach, in hopes of seeing a vessel pass by ; but this was very precarious, as at that time the place was hot resorted to by ships of trade ; many passed in the night, others kept a considerable distance from the shore, nor does he remem- ber that any one had stopped while he was there. In Feb. 1747, his fellow- servant walking down to the beach in the forenoon, saw a ves- sel sailing by, and made a smoke in token of trade. She was already beyond the place, and the wind being fair, the Captain demurred about stopping; had Mr. N.'s companion been half an hour later, the vessel w r ould have been beyond recall ; when he saw her come to an anchor he went on board in a canoe, and this proved the very ship already spoken of. REV, JOHN NEWTON. Which brought an order for Mr. N.'s return.— One of the first questions the Captain put was concerning Mr. N., and understanding he was so near, the Captain came on shore to deliver his message. " Had," says he, " an invitation from home reached me when I was sick, and starving at the P.antanes, I should have received it as life from the dead, but now for the reasons already given, I heard it at first with indifference." — The Captain, however, unwilling to lose him, framed a story, and gave him a very plausible account of his having missed a large packet of letters and papers, which he should have brought with him ; but said he had it from his Father's own mouth, as well as from his employer, that a person lately dead had left Mr. N. £400 per annum, and added, that if embarrassed in his circumstances, he had ex- press orders to redeem Mr. N. though it should cost one % half his cargo. Every parti- cular of this was false, nor could Mr, N. be- lieve what he said about the estate ; except, . that, as he had some expectations from an aged relation, he thought a part of it might be true. But thoughhis Father's care and desire to see him was treated so lightly, and would have been 16 MEMOIRS OF THE insufficient alone to draw him from his retreat, yet the remembrance of Mrs. N. the hopes of seeing her, and the possibility that his accept- ing this offer might once more put him in the way of gaining her hand, prevailed over all other considerations. The Captain further promised (and in this lie kept his word) that Mr. N. should lodge in his cabin, dine at his table, and be his com- panion, without being liable to service. Thus suddenly was he freed from a captivity of about fifteen months. He had neither a thought nor a desire of this change one hour before it took place ; but, embarking with the Cap- tain, he in a few hours lost sight of Kittam. The ship in which he embarked as a passen- ger was on a trading voyage for Gold, Ivory, Dyer's-w r ood, and Bees'-wax. Such a cargo requires more time to collect than a cargo of slaves. The Captain began his trade at Gam- bia, had been already four or # five months in Africa, and during the course of a year after Mr. N. had been with him, they ranged the whole coast as far as Cape Lopez, which lies about a degree south of the Equinoctial, and more than a thousand miles farther from Eng- land than the place from whence he embarked. " I have," says he, " little to offer worthy of REV. JOHN NEWTON. 47 notice, in the course of this tedious voyage. I had no business to employ my thoughts, but sometimes amused myself with Mathematics ; excepting this, my whole life, when awake, was a course of most horrid impiety and pro- faneness. I know not that I have ever since met so daring a blasphemer. Not content with common oaths and imprecations, I daily invented new ones : so that I w r as often se- riously reproved by the Captain, who was himself a very passionate man, and not at all circumspect in his expressions. From the relation I at times made him of my past ad- ventures, and what he saw of my conduct, and especially towards the close of the voyage, when we met with many disasters, he w r ou!d often tell me that, to his great grief, he had a Jonah on board; that a curse attended me wherever I went, and that all the troubles he met with in the voyage were owing to his having taken me into the vessel." Although Mr. N. lived long in the excess of almost every other extravagance, he was never, it seems, fond of drinking : his Father was often heard to say, that while his son avoid- ed drunkenness, some hopes might be enter- tained of his recov: ■ , however, in a frolic, he would i g-bout.; 48 MEMOIRS OF THE not through love of liquor, but disposition to mischief: the last proposal he made of this kind, and at his own expense, was in the river Gabon, whilst the ship was trading on the coast, as follows. Four or five of them sat down one evening to try who could hold out longest in drinking geneva and rum alternately : a large sea- shell supplied the place of a glass. Mr. N. was very unfit for such a challenge, as his head was always incapable of bearing much liquor : he began, however, and proposed as a toast, some imprecation against the person who should start first : this proved to be himself. — Fired in his brain, he arose and danced on the deck like a madman, and while he was thus diverting his companions, his hat went overboard. Seeing the ship's boat by moon- light, he endeavoured eagerly to throw .him- self over the side into the boat, that he might recover his hat. His sight however deceived him for the boat was not (as he supposed,) within his reach, but perhaps twenty feet from the ship's side. He was, however, half overboard, and would in the space of a moment have plunged into the water ; when somebody caught hotd of his clothes, and pulled him back. This was an amazing escape, as he could. not REV. JOIIX XLW'l OX. fcwim, had he been sober; the tide ran ven sjtrpng, his companions were too much intoxi- cated to save him, and the rest of the ship's ripariy were asleep. >tner time at Cape Lopez, before iIk ship left the coast, he went with settle others into the woods, and shot abuftlilo, or wild cow ; they brought apart of it on board, and careful- ly marked the place (as he thought) where the rest was left. In the evening they returned to fetch it, but set out too late. Mr. N. underv took to be their guide ; but night coming on >re they could reach the place, they lost, their way. Sometimes they were in swamps, aiuLup to their middle in water and when they recovered dry lanel, they could not tell whe.* ther they were proceeding towards the ship, of the contrary way. Every step increased their uncertainty, night grew darker, and fhey were entangleel in thick woods which perhaps the foot of man had n odden, and which abound with wild beasts ; besides which, they had neither light, food, 'nor arms, while expc ing a tiger to rush from behind every trce. : The stars were clouded, and they had no co: pass to form a judgment which way they we J going. But it pleased God to secure then from the beasts ; arid, after some hours per. E 50 M EMOIRS OF T H E plexity the moon arose, and pointed out the eastern quarter. It appeared then, that instead ©f proceeding towards the sea, they had been penetrating into the country ; at length, by the guidance of the moon, they recoyered the ship. These, and many other deliverances, pro- duced at that time no salutary effect. The admonitions of conscience, which from suc- cessive repulses had grown weaker and weak- er, at length entirely ceased ; and for the space ©f many months, if not for some years, he had not a single check of that sort. At times he was visited with sickness, and believed him- self to be near death, but had not the least concern about the consequences. " In a word," says he, " I seemed to have every mark of final impenitence and rejection : nei- ther judgments nor mercies made the least impression on me." At length their business being finished^ they left Cape Lopez, and after a few days stay at the island of Annabona, in order to lay in provisions, they sailed homeward about the beginning of January 1748. From Annabona to England is perhaps more than seven thou- sand miles, if the circuits are included, which are necessary to be made on account of the trade-winds. They sailed westward., till near UK V, J H a NEWTON, 51 the coast ofBrasil,tlu n northward, t( nks of New foiindland, without meeting any thing extraordinary. On these banks they stopped half a day to fish for cod : this was then chiefly for diversion, as they hud provision enouj little expected those iish (as it aftei proved) w ould be all they Would have to sub- sist on. They left the banks, March 1st, with a hard rale of wind western- which pushed them fast homewards. By the length of this voyage, in a hot climate, the vessel \ greatly out of repair, and very unfit to endure stormy weather. The sails and cordage vv( likewise very much worn ; and many such circumstances concurred to render what fol- lowed imminently dangerous. Among the few books they had on board was Stanhope's Thomas-a-Kempis : Mr. N. carelessly took it up, as he had often done be- fore, to pass away the time, but which he had read with the same indifference, as if it were a romance. But in reading it this time, a thought occurred, — JJlmt if tJic>>;c> thing* should be true ? He could not bear the force of the inference, and therefore shut the book, concluding, that, true or false, he must abide the consequences of his own choice, and put an end to these reflections, by joining in the vain conversation which came in his way. #2 MEMOIRS OF THE a But now," says he, " the Lord's time was come, and the conviction I was so unwiU ling to receive was deeply impressed upon me by an awful dispensation.' 5 He went to bed that night in his usual carnal security ; but was awaked from a sound sleep by the force of a violent sea which broke on board : so much of it came down as filled the cabin with water, in which he lav. This alarm was followed by a cry from the deck, that the ship was sinking. He essayed to go upon deck, but w r as met upon the ladder by the captain, who desired him to bring a knife. On his returning for the knife, another person went up in his place, who was instantly wash- ed overboard. They had no leisure to lament him, nor expected to survive him long, for the ship was filling with water very fast. The sea had torn away the upper timbers on one side, and made it a mere wreck in a few mi- nutes ; so that it seems al most miraculous that any survived to relate the story. They h^l immediate recourse to the pumps, but the water increased against their efforts : some of them were set to bailing, though they had but eleven or twelve people to sustain this service. But notwithstanding all they could do, the vessel was nearly full, and with a com- REV. JOHN NEWTON. mon cargo must have sunk ; but having a great quantity of bees'- wax and wood on board which were specifically lighter than wat and providentially receiving this shock in the y crisis of the gale, towards morning, the} e enabled to employ some means for safe- ty, which succeeded beyond hope. In about an hour's time, day began to break, and the wind abated ; they expended most of their clothes and bedding to stop the leaks ; over these they nailed pieces of boards, and at last perceived the water within to subside. At the beginning of this scene Mr. N. was little affected ; he pumped hard, and endeav- oured to animate himself and his companions. He told one of them, that in a few days this distress would serve for a subject over a glass of wine ; but the man being less hardened than himself, replied with tears, " No, it is too late now." About nine o'clock, being almost spent with cold and labour, Mr. X. went to speak with the captain, and as he was returning, said, almost without meaning, "If this will not do, the Lord have mere}' upon us :" thus expressing, though with little re- flection, his desire of mercy for the first time within the space of many years. Struck with his own words, it directly occurred to Mm, E 2 ' ~'l- MEMOIRS OF THE What mercy can there be for me ! He was however obliged to return to the pump, and there continued till noon, almost every passing wave breaking over his head, being, like the rest, secured by ropes, that they might not be gashed away. He expected indeed, that every time the vessel descended in the sea, she would rise no more, and though he dreaded death tvow, and his heart foreboded the worst, if the scriptures, which he had long opposed, were true ; yet he was still but half convinced, and remained for a time in a sullen frame, a mix- ture of despair and impatience. He thought,, if the Christian religion were true, he could not be forgiven, and was therefore expecting, and almost at times wishing, to know^ the worst of it. The following part of his narrative will, I think, be best expressed in his own words : u The 10th, that is, in the present style, the 21st, of March, is a day much to be remem- bered by me, and I have never suffered it to jpass wholly unnoticed since the year 1748. On that day the Lord sent from on high and delivered me out of deep w r aters. — I continued at the pump from three in the morning till near noon, and then I could do no moFe. I went and lay down upon my bed, uncertain, REV. JOHN NEWTON. and almost indifferent whether I should rise again. In an hour's time I was called, and not being able to pump, I went to the helm and steered the ship till midnight, excepting a small interval for refreshment. I had here leisure and convenient opportunity for reflec- tion : I began to think of my former religious professions, — the extraordinary turns of my life, — the calls, and deliverances I had met with, — the licentious course of my conversation, — particularly my unparalleled effrontery in making the gospel history (which I could not be sure was false, though I was not yet assured it was truej the constant sub- ject of profane ridicule. I thought, allowing the scripture premises, there never was or could be such a sinner as myself; and then comparing the advantages I had broken through, I concluded at first, that my sins were too great to be forgiven. The scripture likewise seemed to say the same : for I had formerly been well acquainted with the Bible, and many passages, upon this occasion, return- ed upon my memory ; particularly those aw- ful passages, Prov. i. 24 — 31. Heb. vi. 4, 6. and 2 Pet. ii. 20. which seemed so exactly to suit my case and character, as to bring with them a presumptive proof of a divine originals 56 MEMOIRS OP THE " Thus, as I have said, I waited with fear and impatience to receive my inevitable doom. Yet though I had thoughts of this kind, they were exceeding faint and disproportionate ; it was not till after (perhaps) several years that I had gained some clear views of the infinite righteousness and grace of Christ Jesus my Lord, that I had a deep and strong apprehen- sion of my state by nature and practice ; and perhaps, till then, I could not have borne the sight. So wonderfully does the Lord propor- tion the discoveries of sin and grace; for he knows our frame, and that if he were to put forth the greatness r of his power, a poor sinner would be instantly overwhelmed, and crushed as a moth. " But to return, when I saw beyond all pro- bability, that there was still hope of respite, and heard about six in the evening that the ship was freed from water, there arose a gleam of hope. 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 ra- vens, which yet the Lord does not disdain to hear. I now began to think of that Jesus whom I had so often derided; I recollected REV, JOHN NEWT OX. 5i the particulars of his life, and of his death ; a (Lath for sins not his own, but, as I remenv bered, for the sake of those, who, in their dis- tress, should put their trust in him. And now I chiefly wanted evidence. — The comfort] principles of infidelity were deep!}- rivited, and [ rather wished than believed these things were real facts. You will please to observe, that I collect the strain of the reasonings and e ;. cises of my 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 were of divine inspiration, and a sufficient warrant for the exercise of Lust and hope in God. " One of the first helps I received (in conse- quence of a determination to examine the New Testament more carefully) was from Luke, xi. 13. I had been sensible, that to profess faith in Jesus Christ, when, in reality, I did not be- lieve his history, was no better than a moekcry of the heart-searching God ; but here I found a Spirit spoken of, which was to be commu nicated to those who ask it. Upon this I rea- :d thus : if this book be true, the prom if 58 MEMOIRS OF THE 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 believed the Gospel, yet I would, for the pre- sent take it for granted ; and that by studying it in this light, I should be more and more con- firmed 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 Aery desi- rous to persuade myself into this opinion. I confess I was, and so would they be, if the Lord should shew them, as he was pleased to shew me at that time, the absolute necessity of some expedient v 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, . JCXHN NEW T< though greatly alarmed by their circumsl . The} found, that the water having floated their moveables in the hold, all the easks of pro sion had been beaten to pieces by the violent motion of the ship. On the other hand, their live stock had been Washed overboard in the storm. In short, all the provisions they saved except the fish lately caught on the banks amusement, and a little of the pulse kind, which used to be given to the hogs, would have supported them but a week, and that at a -scanty allowance. The sails too, were mostly blown away, so that they advanced but slowly even while the wind was fair. They imagined they were about a hundred leagues from land, but were in reality much further. Mr. N.'s leisure was chiefly employed in reading, me- ditation on the Scriptures, and prayer for w cy and instruction. Things continued thus, for about four or five days, till they were awakened one morning by the joyful shouts of the watch upon deck, pro- claiming the sight of land, with which tl were all soon raised. The dawning was un- commonly beautiful, and the light, just suffi- cient to discover distant objects, presented what seemed a mountainous coast, about tv\ ty miles off, with two or three small islam 60 MEMOIRS OF THE the whole appeared to be the north west tremity of Ireland, for which they were steer* ing. 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 or- ders, distributed among them; wiio added, " We shall soon have brandy enough." Thev likewise ate up the residue of their bread, and were in the condition of men suddenly re- prieved from death. But while their hopes were thus excited, the mate sunk their spirits, by sajing 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 ap- proach 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 w ind subsided into a calm, and the next morn- KEV. JOHN" NEWTOK. CI i 5, the gale sprung up from the south e 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 mo- derate ; and were thus driven still further from their port in the north of Ireland, as for 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 n indeed be questioned," says Mr. N. " whether our ship was not the very first that 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 subsistence 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 hard- ship. Yet their sufferings were light when compared with their fears. Their bare allow- ance could continue but little longer, and a dreadful prospect appeared, of their being o F 62 MEMOIRS OF THE ther starved to death, or reduced to feed upon one another. At this time Mr. N. had a further trouble, peculiar to himself. The captain, whose tem- per was quite soured by distress, was hourly reproaching him as the sole cause of the calam- ity, and was confident that his being thrown overboard would be the only means of pre- serving them. The captain, indeed, did not intend to make the experiment, but " the con- tinued repetition of this in my ears," says Mr. N. " gave me much uneasiness ; espe- cially 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 condemned 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 coun- tenance, they began to conceive hope from the wind's shifting to the desired point, so as best to suit that broken part of the ship, which must be kept out of the water, and so gently to blow, as their few remaining sails could bear. And thus it continued at an unsettled time of the year, till they were once more called up to see land, and which was really REV. JOIIX JX. 63 such. They saw the island of Tony, and the day anchored in Lough S willy, in I land, on the 8th of April, just four weeks af- ter the damage they had sustained from the When they came into this port, their very last victuals were boiling in the pot, and they had been there two hours, the wind, which seemed to have been providentially restrained till they were in a place of safety, began to blow with great violence; 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 God, 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 hitherto made in religion, will be best related in his o\\ n words. I shall therefore make a longer extract than usual, because it is important to trace the ope- ration of real religion in the heart. Speaking 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 soul ; none from whom I could ask advice. As to books, I had a New T anhope, already mentioned, and a 64 memoirs or Tin; volume of Bishop Beveridge's Sermons, 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 Prodigal, Luke, xv. I thoughtjthat had never been so nearly exemplified as by myself. 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 reflexions gainings 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 thought 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 satisfactory evidence, in my own mind, of the truth of the Gospel, as considered in itself, and of its exact suita- bleness to answer all my needs. I saw that, by the way they were pointed out, God might declare not his mercy only, but his justice also, in the pardon of sin, on account of the obedi- KEV. JOHN NEW TON. 1 sufferings of Jesus Christ. My judg- ment at that time, embraced the sublime doc- trine of ' God manifest in the flesh, reconciling the world unto himself.' — I had no idea of those systems, which allow t . lour no higher honour than that of an upper seavant, or at the most a Demigod. I stood in need of an Almighty Saviour, and such a one I found described in the New Testament. Thus flu- the Lord had wrought a marvellous thing ; I was no longer an infidel ; I heartily renoun- ced my former profaneness, and had taken up some right notions ; was seriously disposed, and sincerely touched with a sense of the unde- ved mercy I had received, in being brought safe through so many dangers. I was sorry for my past mispent life, and purposed an im- mediate 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 was a new man. 44 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 enor- mous sins, but I was little aw r are of the innate evils of my heart. I had no apprehension of f 2 67 MEMOIRS OF THE 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 con. tinual dependance on him for hourly supplies of wisdom, strength, and comfort, was a mys- tery 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 resolution to do better for the time to come. I had no christian friend or faithful minister to advise me that my strength was no more than my righteousness ; and though I soon began to inquire for serious books, yet, not having spiritual discernment, I frequently made a wrong choice ; and I was not brought in the way of evangelical preaching or conver- sation (except the few times when I heard, but understood not) for six years after this period. Those things the Lord was pleased to disco- ver to me gradually. I learnt them here a little, and there a little, by my own painful ex* perience, at a distance -from the commoa means 4 and ordinances, and in the midst of the same course of evil company and bad exam- ples I had been conversant with for some time. " From this period I could no more make ;t mock at sin, or jest with holy things ; I n<* REV. JOHN NEWTOX. 67 more questioned the truth of scripture, or lost a sense of the rebukes 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 S willy, Mr, N. repaired to Londonderry, where he soon recruited his health and strength. He was now a serious professor, went twice a day to the prayers at church, and determin- ed to receive the sacrament the next opportu- nity. When the day came, he arose very early, was very earnest in his private devo- tions, and solemnly engaged himself to the Lord ; not with a formal but sincere surren- der, 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 may., or of the city, and some gentlemen, a shoot- ing ; climbing up a steep bank, and pulling 08 MEMOIRS OF THE his fowling-piece in a perpendicular direction after him, it went oft' so near his face as to destroy the corner of his hat. The remark he makes on this ought not to be omitted : u Thus when we think ourselves in the greatest safety, we are no less exposed to danger than when all the elements seem conspiring to de- stroy us. The Divine Providence, which is sufficient to deliver us in our utmost extremi- ty, 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 g-overnour of York Fort, in Hudson's Bay, where he died. He had in- tended to take his son with him had he return- ed 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 forgive- ness, for the uneasiness his disobedience had occasioned ; but the ship that was to have brought his father home came without him. Jt appears he w r as seized with the cramp, 3 NEWTO x . i I whin bathing, and was drowned before ship arrived in the bay. Before his father's departure from England, 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 May 1748, about the same day that his Fa- ther sailed from the Nore. He found, how- ever, fnother father in the gentleman whose ship had brought him home. This friend re- ceived 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 possessed with the Legion. No arguments, no persuasion, no views of interest, no remembrance of the past, nor re- gard to the future could have restrained me within the bounds of common prudence ; but now I was in some measure restored to my senses." This friend immediately offered Mr. N. the command of a ship, which, upon mature 70 MEMOIRS OF THE consideration, he for the present declined. He prudently considered that, hitherto, he had been unsettled, and careless ; and therefore that he had better make another voyage, and learn obedience, and acquire further expe- rience in business, before he ventured to un- dertake such a charge. The mate of the ves- sel, in which he came home, was preferred to the command of a new ship, and Mr. pi. en- gaged to go in the station of mate with him. There was something so peculiar in Mr. N's case, after this extraordinary deliverance, and because others in like circumstances might be tempted to despair, 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 ourselves, nor our own a rule to others : yet these are com- mon mistakes, and productive of many more. As to myself, every part of my case has been extraordinary — I have hardly met a single in- stance resembling it. Few, very few, have been recovered from such a dreadful state ; and the few that have been thus favoured, have general- ly passed through the most severe convictions ; and, after the Lord has given them peace, REV. JOHN K£WX< 71 their future lives fa; h usually more .. Ions, bright, and i than common. Now, as on the one hand, my convictions v. 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 religious course were as faint as can be well imagined. I never knew that season allu- ded to, Jer. ii. 2. — Rev. ii. 4. usually called the time of the first love. Who would not ex- pect to hear that, after such a wonderful and unhoped-for deliverance as I had received, and, after my eyes were in some measure en- lightened to see things aright, I should imme- diately cleave to the Lord and his Ways with full purpose of heart, and consult no more with flesh and blood ? But alas ! it was far other- wise with me ; I had learned to pray ; I set some value upon the word of God ; and wos no longer a libertine ; but my soul still cleaved to the dust. Soon after my departure from Li- verpool, I began to intermit and grow slack in waiting upon the Lord : I grew vain and tri- fling in my conversation ; and though my heart smote me often, yet my armour w 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 engagq ? 72 MEMOIRS OF THE meats, and was (profaneness excepted) almost as bad as before. The enemy prepared a train of temptations, and I became liis 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 capable. How much propriety is there in the Apostle's advice, i Take heed lest any of you 4 be hardened through the deceitfulness of ' sin.' " In this voyage Mr. N.'s business, while up- on 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 4it the Plantanes, the scene of his former cap- tivity, 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 re- turn with a ship of his own. Unaffected, how- ever, w ith these things, he needed another pro- vidential interposition to rouse him ; and ac- cordit^];: lie was visited with a violent fever, which broke the fatal chain, and once more brought him to himself. Alarmed at the pros- pect before him, he thought himself now sum- . JOHN NEWTON. inoned away. The dangers and defiveranc through which he had passed — his earnest prayers in the time of trouble — his solemn vows Before the Lord at his table — and his un- grateful returns for all his goodness were pi sent 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, crept to a retired part of the is- land, and here found a renewed liberty in pray- er : 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 and believe in a crucified Saviour. After this, the burden 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 effects and conflicts of sin, dwelling in him; he t ever after delivered from the power and domi* nion of it. His leisure hours, in this voyage, i chiefly employed in acquiring Latin, which he had now almost forgotten. This desire took G 74 MEMOIRS OY THE place from an imitation he had seen of one of Horace's Odes in a magazine. In this at- tempt at one of the most difficult of the poets, he had no other help than an old English tran- slation, with Castalio's Latin Bible. He had the edition in mum Delphini^ and by compa-* ring 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 Epis- tles, but " I began," says he, " to relish the beauties of the composition ; acquired a species of what Mr. Law calls classical enthusiasm 9 and, indeed, by this means, I had Horace more ad unguem y 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 before I could fully understand its meaning." During the eight months they were employ- ed upon the coast, Mr. N.'s business exposed him to innumerable dangers, from burning suns, chilling dews, winds, rains, and thunder- storms, in an open boat ; and on shore, from long journies through the woods, and from REV, JOHN .NEWTO N /J the natives, who, in many ph 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 se^ people, with fevers ; when going on shore, or returning, 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 up- on 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 raid 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. Several of these little- voyages he had made ; but the boat was grown old and almost unfit for use ; this service like- wise was almost completed. One day having dined on board, he was preparing to return to the river as formerly : he had takui leave of the captain ; received his orders ; was ready in the boat ; and just going to put off. MEMOIRS OF THE In that instant the captain came up from the cabin, and called him on board again. Mr. N. went, expecting further orders, but the captain 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, w r ent 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 w r as received the next morning, — The captain himself, though quite a stranger to re- ligion, even to the denying a particular provi- dence, could not help being affected ; but de- clared that he had no other reason for coun- termanding Mr, N. at that time, but that it came suddenly into his mind to detain him. A short time after he was thus surprising- ly preserved, they sailed for Antigua; and from thence to Charles-town, in South Caro- lina. In that place there were many serious people ; but at this time, Mr. N. was little U£V. JO WTON. able of availing himself of tin supposing that all who attended public w ship were good christians, and that whate^s ne from the pulpit must be very good. He had two or three opportunities, indeed, of hearing a minister of eminent character and gifts, whom, though struck with his manner, he did not rightly understand. Almost every day, when business would permit, he used to ire into the woods and fields, (being his favourite oratories) and began to taste the de- light of communion with God, in the exer- cises of prayer and praise : and yet so much inconsistency prevailed, that he frequently spent the evening in vain and worthless com- pany. His relish, indeed, for worldly dr. sions was much weakened ; and he was rather a spectator than a sharer in their pleasures ; but he did not as yet see the necessity of ab- solutely relinquishing such society. It ap- pears, that compliances of this sort, in his present circumstances, were owing rather to a want of light, than to any obstinate attach- ment ; as he was kept from what he knew to be sinful, he had, for the most part, peace of conscience ; and his strongest desires w< towards the things of God. He did not as yet apprehend the force of that precept " Ab- G 2 78 MEMOIRS, Or THE stain from all appearance of evil;" but he very often ventured upon the brink of temp- tation. He did not break with the world at once, as might have been expected ; but was gradually led to see tlif. inconvenience and folly of first one thing, and then another ; and, as such, to give them up. They finished their voyage, and arrived in Liverpool. When the ship's affairs were set- tled, Mr. N. went to London, and frdm thence tie soon repaired to Kent. More than seven years had now elapsed since his first visit : no views of the kind seemed more chimerical than his ; or could subsist under greater dis- couragement ; yet, while he seemed abandon- ed to his passions, he was still guided by a hand that he knew not, to the accomplishment of his wishes. Every obstacle was now re- moved — he had renounced his former follies - — his intesest was established — and friends on all sides consenting. The point was now en- tirely between the parties immediately con- cerned, and, after what had passed, was easily concluded; accordingly their hands were -joined, February the 1st, 1750. " But alas," says he, " this mercy which raised me to all I could ask or wish in a tem- poral view, and which ought to have been an REV. JOHN NEWTON. 79 animating motive to ce and praise, had a contrary effect. — I i j ;iit, and forgot the giver. My poor narrow heart was satisfied. — A cold and s frame, as to spiritual things, took place, and gained ground daily. Happy for me, the season was advancing ; and in June I received orders to repair to Liverpool. This roused me from ni}' dream ; and I found the pains of absence and separation fully proportioned to my pre- ceding pleasure. (See Note A.) Through all my following voyage, my irregular and < cessive affections were as thorns in my ej and often made my other blessings tasteless and insipid. But He who doth all things well, over-ruled this likewise for good : it be- came an occasion of quickening me in pray both for her and myself: it increased my in- difference for company and amusement ; it habituated me to a kind of voluntary self-de- nial, which I was afterwards taught to improve to a better purpose." Mr. N. sailed from Liverpool, in August 1750, commander of a good ship. He had now the command and care of thirty persons : he endeavoured to treat them with humanity ; and to set them a good example. (See Note B.) He likewise established public worship, 80 MEMOIRS OP THE according to the Liturgy of the church of England, officiating himself twice ever) Lord's Day. He did not proceed further than this, while he continued in that occupation. Having now much leisure, he prosecuted the study of Latin with good success. He remembered to take a dictionary this voyage ; and added Juvenal to Horace ; and for prose authors, Livy, Caesar, and Saliust. He was not aware of the mistake of beginning with such difficult writers ; but having heard Livy highly commended, he w r as resolved to under- stand him : he began with the first page, and made it a rule not to proceed to a second, till he understood the first. Often at a stand, but seldom discouarged, here and there he found a few lines quite obstinate, and w r as forced to give them up, especially as his edi- tion had no notes. Before, however, the close of that voyage, he informs us that he could^ with a few exceptions, read Livy almost as readily as an English author. Other prose authors, he says, cost him but little trouble, as in surmounting the former difficulty, he had mastered all in one. In short, in the space of two or three voyages, he became tolerably acquainted with the best classics. He read Terence, Virgil, several pieces of Cicero, and REV. JOHN NEWTON. 81 the modern classics, Buchannan, Erasmus, and Casimir : and made some essays towards writing elegant Latin. " But by this time," he observes, " the Lord was pleased to draw me nearer to him- self; and to give me a fuller view of the pearl of great price — the inestimable treasure hid in the field of the holy Scripture : and for the sake of this, I was made willing to part w ith all my newly acquired riches, I began to think that life was too short (especially my life) to ad- mit of leisure for such elaborate trifling. Nei- ther poet nor historian could tell me a word of Jesus ; and I therefore applied myself to those who could. The classics were at first re- strained to one morning in the week, and at length laid aside." This, his first voyage after his marriage, lasted the space of fourteen months, through various scenes of danger and difficulty ; but nothing very remarkable occurred : and after having seen many fall on his right hand and on his left, he was brought home in peace, No- vember 2, 1751. In the interval between his first and second voyage, he speaks of the use he found in ke ing a sort of diary — of the unfavourable ten- dency of a life of ease; airiong his friends, and H2 MEMOIRS OF THE of the satisfaction of his wishes proving unfa- vourable to the progress of grace ; upon the whole, however, lie seems to have gained ground, and was led into further views of Christian doctrine and experience by ScougaPs Life of God in the Soul of Man, Hervey's Meditations, and the Life of Col. Gardiner. He seems to have derived no advantages from the preaching he heard, or the Christian ac- quaintance he made ; and though he could not live without prayer, he durst not propose it, even to his wife, till she fi rst urged him to the mutual practice of it. In a few months, the returning season called him abroad again, and he sailed from Liver- pool in a new ship, July 1752. (See note C.) " I never knew," says he, " sweeter or more frequent hours of divine communion, than in my two last voyages to Guinea, when I was either almost secluded from society on ship- board, or when on shore among the natives. I have wandered through the woods, reflecting on the singular goodness of the Lord to me, in a place where, perhaps, there was not a person who knew me for some thousand miles round. Many a time, upon these occasions, I have re- stored the beautiful lines of Propertius to the right owner ; lines full of blasphemy and mad- REV. JOHN NEWTON- 8^ ncss, when addressed to a creature, but fill comfort and propriety in the mouth of a be- liever." Sic ego descrtis possim bene vivere sylvis Quo nulla humano sit via trita pede ; Tu m&i curarum requies, in nocte vel a Lumen, ct in solis tu mihi turba I PARAPHRASED, In desert woods with thee, my God, Where human footsteps never trod, How happy could I be ! Thou my repose from care, my light Amidst the darkness of the night, In solitude my company. In the course of this voyage, Mr, i< wonderfully preserved through many unfi seen dangers. At one time there was a < spiracy among his own people to become pi- rates, and take possession of the ship. When the plot w r as 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 away to its discovery. The slaves on board frequently plotted insurrectl and were sometimes upon the very brink of one, when it was disclosed. — When at 84 MEMOIRS OF THE called Mana, near Cape Mount, Mi\ N. in- tended to go on shore the next morning 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 fur- nished a pretext for indulging it : he therefore returned to the ship without doing any busi- ness. 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 would perhaps have affected his life, had he landed. The person most concerned in this affair owed him kbout an hundred pounds, which he sent in a huff, ancl otherwise, perhaps, would not have paid it at all. Mr. N. heard no more of this accu- sation till the next voyage, and then it was publicly acknowledged to have been a mali- cious calumny, without the least shadow of a ground. But as these things did not occur every day, Mr. N. prosecuted his Latin, being very re- gular in the management of his time. He al- lotted about eight hours for sleep and meals, eight hours for exercise and devotion, and ITEV. JOHN NEWTON". 85 eight hours to his books ; and thus by dh sifying his engagements, the whole day was agreeably filled up. From the coast, he went to St. Christo- pher's, where he met with a great disappoint- ment : for the letters which he expected from Mrs. N. were, by mistake, forwarded to Anti- gua. Certain of her punctuality m writing, if alive, he concluded by not hearing from her, that she was surely dead. This fear deprived him of his appetite and rest — caused an inces- sant pain in his stomach, and, in the space of three weeks, he was near sinking under the weight of an imaginary stroke. H I felt," says he, " some severe symptoms of that mixture of pride and madness, commonly called a bro- ken 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; an$ when I had thus suffered 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 me a strong contrast of the Lord's goodncv H 86 MEMOIRS OF THE me, and of my unbelief and ingratitude to- wards him." In August, 1753, Mr. N, returned to Li- verpool ; — after that voyage, he continued on- ly six weeks at home, and, in that space, no- thing 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 in- timate companion on board the Harwich. This youth, at the time Mr. N. first knew him, was sobers but afterwards sadly infected with Mr. N.'s then libertine principles. They met at Liverpool, and renewed their former acquaint- ance ; as their conversation 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 in- duce him to relinquish his infidelity. When pressed very close, his usual reply was, that Mr. N. was the first person who had given him an idea of his liberty, which naturally oc- casioned many mournful reflections in the mind of his present instructor. This person was going master to Guinea himself; but REV. JOHN NEWTON. 87 meeting with disappointment, Mr. N. offered to take him as a companion, with a view of as- sisting him ,in gaining future employment , but principally, that his arguments, example, and prayers might be attended with good feet. But his companion was exceedingly profane ; grew worse and worse ; and present- ed a lively, but distressing picture, continual- ly before Mr. N.'s eyes, of what he himself had once been.— Besides this, the man was not only deaf to remonstrance himself, but la- boured to counteract 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 supplied with a cargo from his own ship : — he gave his com- panion 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 compa- nion 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 88 MEMOIRS OF THE 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 hope the reader will deem the features of this awful case (though a digression from the prin- cipal subject) too instructive to be omitted. Mr. N. left the coast in about four months, and sailed for St. Christopher's. Hitherto, he iiad enjoyed a perfect and equal state of health in different climates for several vears. 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 dis- ordering his faculties, that he should be lost or overlooked amidst the myriads that are conti- nually entering the unseen world ; but the re- collection of that Scripture — the Lord know- eth 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- In* dies, he was perfectly recovered. REV. JOHN NF.WTOX. 89 In this way, he was led for about the space of six years : he had learnt something 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 conceptions still remained confused in ma- ny 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, a man of ex- perience in the things of God. Forrnear a month, they spent every evening together on board each other's ship alternately ; prolong- ing their visits till near daybreak. While Mr. N. was an eager recipient, his companion's discourse not only informed his understand- ing, but inflamed his heart — encouraged him in attempting social prayer — taught him they advantage of Christian converse — put him up- on an attempt to make his profession more public — and to venture to speak for God. His conceptions now became more clear and evangelical ; he was delivered from a fear, which had long troubled him, of relapsing in- to his former apostacy ; and taught to expect preservation, not from his ow r n power and ho- liness, but jrom the power and promise of H 2 90 MEMOIRS OF THE God. From this friend he likewise received a general view of the present state of religion, and of the prevailing errors and controversies of the times, and a direction where to inquire in" London, for further instruction. Mr. N.'s passage homewards gave him leisure to digest what he had received ; and he arrived safely at Liverpool, August 1754. (See Note D.) His stay at home, however, was intended to be but short ; and by the beginning of No- vember he was ready again for the sea. But the Lord saw fit to over-rule his design, it seems, from the account he gives, that he had not the least scruple as to the lawfulness of the slave-trade ; he considered it as the ap- pointment of Providence: he considered this employment as respectable and profitable : yet he could not help considering himself as a sort of jailor, and was sometimes shocked with an employment so conversant wilflk chains, bolts, and shackles. On this account he had often prayed that he might be fixed in a more hu- mane profession, where he might enjoy more frequent communion with the people and ordi- nances of God ; and be freed from those long, domestic separations which he found so hard to bear. His prayers were now answered, though in an unexpected way. REV. JOHN NEWTON. 91 Mr. N. was within two days of sailing, and in apparent good health ; but as he was i afternoon drinking tea with Mrs. N. he was seized with a fit, which deprived him of s< and motion. When he had recovered from this fit, which lasted about an hour, it left a pain and dizziness in his head, which continued with such symptoms, as induced the physicians Tb judge it would not be safe for him to pro- d on the voyage. By the adviee of a friend, therefore, to whom; the ship belonged, he re- signed the command on the day before she sailed : and thus he was not only freed frori^. that service, but from the future consequencj^Hj of a voyage which proved extremely calami- tous. The person who went in his room, died ; as did most of the officers, and many of the crew. • As Mr. N. was now disengaged from bu- siness, he left Lijprpool, and spent most of the following year in London, or in Kent. Here he entered upon a new trial, in a disorder that was brought upon Mrs. N. from the shock she received in his late illness ; as he grew better- she became worse with a disorder which the physicians could not define, nor medicines re- move. Mr. N. was therefore placed for about eleven months in what Dr. Young calls the 92 MEMOIRS OF THE Dreadful post of observation, Darker every hour. The reader will recollect that Mr. N.*s friend at St. Christopher's had given him information for forming a religious acquaintance in Lon- don ; in consequence of which he became in- timate with several persons eminent for that character ; and profited by the spiritual advan-^ tages which a great city affords, with respect to means. When tj£ was in Kent, his advanta- tages were of a different kind ;. most of his time he passed in the fields and' woods : " It has been my custom," says he, " for many years, to perform my devotional exercises sub dip, when I have opportunity, and I always find these scenes have some tendency both to refresh and compose my spirits. A beautiful, diversified prospect gladdens my heart. When I am withdrawn from the noise and petty works of men, I consider myself aPn the great tem- ple which the Lord has built for his own ho- nour." During this time he had to weather two tri- als, the principal of which was Mrs.JN.'s ill- ness ; she still grew worse, and he had daily more reason to fear that hour of separation which appeared to be at hand. He had likewise to provide some future settlement ; the African REV. JOHN NEWTON'. 93 trade was overdone that year, and his friends did not care to fit out another ship till that which had been his, returned. Though a pro- vision of food and raiment had seldom been with him a cause of great solicitude, yet he w r as some time in suspense on this account ; but, in August following, he received a letter fthat he was nominated to a post which afforded him a competency, both unsought and unex- pected. When he had gained this point, his distress respecting Mrs. N. was doubled ; he was oblig- ed to leave her in the greatest extremity of pain and illness ; and when he had no hope that he should see her again alive. He was, however, enabled to resign her and himself to the divine disposal ; and soon after he was gone, she be- gan to amend, and recovered so fast, that in about two months he had the pleasure to meet her at Stone, on £r journey to Liverpool.. Jyrom October 1755, he appears to have been comfortably settled at Liverpool, and meQjfans his having received, since the j 1757^ffl£eh profit from his acquaintance in the West Riding of Yorkshire. " I have con- versed," says he, " at large among all parties, without joining any ; and in my attempts to hit the golden mean, I have been sometin 94 MEMOIRS OF THE drawn too near the different extremes ; yet the Lord has enabled me tcprofit by my mistakes." Being at length placed in a settled habitation, and finding his business would afford him mueh leisure, he considered in what manner he could improve it. Having determined, with the Apos- tle, to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucified, he devoted his life to the prosecu- tion of spiritual knowledge,' and resolved to ^ursue nothing but in sufcfeervicrifee to this de- sign. But as what follows will appear most natural, and must be better expressed, in his own words, I shall transcribe them from the conclusion of his Narrative. " This resolution, " says Mr. N. " divorced me (as I have already hinted) from the clas- sics and mathematics. My first attempt was to learn so much Greek as would enable me to understand the New Testament and Septu- agint ; and when I had ma^ some progress this way, I entered upon the Hebrew the fol- lowing year ; and two years afterwards, hav- ing surmised some advantages from the Syri- ac version, I began with that langua^^ You must not think that I have attained, or ever aimed at a critical skill in any of these ; I had no business with them, but as in reference to something else, I never read one classic au- . REV. JOHN NEWTON. thor in the Greek ; I thought it too late in life to take such a round in this language as I had done in the Latin. I^only wanted the signifi- cation of scriptufcil words and phrases, and for this, I thought I might avail myself of Scapu- la, the Synopsis, and others, who had sustain- ed the drudgery before me. In the Hebrew, I can read the historical books and psalms with tolerable ease ; but in the prophetical and dif ficult parts, I am frequently obliged to have re- course to Lexicons, &c. However, I kn so much as to be able, with such helps as ai> at hand, to judge for myself the meaning of any passage I have occasion to consult. u Together with these studies, I have kept up a course of reading the best writers in divi- nity that have come to my hand, in the Latin and English tongues, and some French (for 1 picked up the French at times, while I used the sea). But within these two or three }■ I have accustomed myself chiefly to writing, and have not found time to read many books besides the Scriptures. " I am the more particular in this account, as my case has been something singular ; for in all my literary attempts, I have been obliged to strike out my own path by the light I could acquire from books, as I have not had 96 • MEMOIRS OF THE a teacher or assistant since I was ten years of age. " One* word concer^g my views to the ministry, and I have done. I have told you, • that this was 'my dear mother's hope concern- ing me ; but her death, and the scenes of life in which I afterwards engaged, seemed to cut off the probability. The first desires of this sort in my own mind, arose many years ago, from reflection on Gal. i. 23, 24. I could but \^sh for such a public opportunity to testify the riches of divine grace. I thought I was, above most living, a fit person to proclaim that faithful saying, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save the chief of sinners ; and as my life had been- full of remarkable turnsy and I seemed selected to shew what the Lord could do, I was in some hopes that perhaps sooner or later, he might call me into his service. " I believe it was a distant hope of this that •determined me to study the original Scrip- tures ; but it remained an imperfect desire in my own brQjst, till it was recommended to me by some Christian friends. I started at the thought when first seriously proposed to me ; but afterwards, set apart some weeks to consi- der the case, to consult my friends, and to en- treat the Lord's direction. The judgment of i REV. JOHN NEWTON. 97 my friends, and many things that occurred, tended to engage me. My first thought was to join the dissenters, from a presumption that I could not honestly make the required sub- scriptions ; but Mr. C , in a conversation upon these points, moderated my scruples ; and preferring the established church in some respects, I accepted a title from him, some months afterwards ; and solicited ordination from the laxe Archbishop of York : I need not tell you I met a refusal, nor what steps I took afterwards, to succeed elsewhere. At pre&nt I desist from any applications. My desire to serve the Lord is not weakened ; but I am not so hasty to push myself forward as I was for- merly. It is sufficient that he knows how to dispose of me, and that he both can and will do what is best. To him I commend myself: I trust that his will and my true interest are in- separable. To his name be glory forever, an3 with this I conclude my story." A variety of remarks occured to me while abridging the Narrative, but I refrained from putting them down, lest by iffterrupting its course, and breaking the thread of the histo- ry, I should rather disgust than profit the rea- der. I have heard Mr. N. relate a few addi~ tional particulars, but they were of too little I 98 MEMOIRS OF THE interest to be inserted here ; they went, how- ever, like natural incidents, tQ a farther authen- tication of the above account, had it needed any other confirmation than the solemn decla- ration of the pious relator. Romantic rela- tions, indeed, of unprincipled travellers, which appear to have no better basis than a disposi- tion to amuse credulity, to exhibit vanity, or to acquire gain, may naturally raise suspicion, and produce but a momentary effect at most on the mind of the reader : but facts, like the present, manifest such a display of the Power, Providence, and Grace of God ; and at the same time such a deep and humbling view of human depravity, when moved, and brought forth by circumstances, as inexperience can scarcely credit, but which must interest the eye of pious contemplation, and open a new world of wonders. I must now attempt to conduct the reader, without the help of Mr. N.'s Narrative, finish- ed Feb. 2, 1763 ; to which, as I have already observed, he referred me for the former and most singular part of his life. When I left the above account with him for revision, he ex- pressed full satisfaction as to all the facts rela ted ; but said, he thought I had been too mi nute even in the abridgment, since the Narra- - REV. JOHN NEWTON. tive itself had been long before the public. 1 remarked, in reply, that the Narrative contain- ed a great variety of facts — that these Me- moirs might fall into the hands of persons who had not seen the Narrative — but that, without some abridgment of it, no clear view could be formed of the peculiarity of his whole dispen- sation and character — and, therefore, that such an abridgment appeared to be absolutely neces- sary, and that he had recommended it at my first undertaking the work. With these rea- sons he was well satisfied. I now proceed to the remaining, though less remarkable part of his life. Mr. Manesty, who had long been a faithful and generous friend of Mr. N., having procured him the place of tide-surveyor in the port of Liverpool, Mr. N. gives the following account of it. — " I entered upon business yesterday. I find my duty is to attend the tides one week,, and visit the ships that arrive, and such as are in the river ; and the other week to inspect the vessels in the docks, and thus alternately the year round. The latter is little more than a sinecure, but the former requires pretty con- stant attendance, both by day and night. I have a good office, with fire and candle, and fifty or sixty people under my direction : with 100 MEMOIRS OF THE a handsome six-oared boat and a coxswain, to row me about in form*." We cannot wonder that Mr. N. latterly re- tained a strong ynpression of a particular pro- vidence, superintending and conducting the steps of man ; since he was so often reminded of it in his own history % \ The following occurrence is one of many instances. Mr. N. after his reformation, was remarkable for his punctuality : I remember his often sitting with his watch in his hand, lest he should fail in keeping his next engagement. This exact- ness with respect to time, it seems, was his habit while occupying his post at Liverpool. One day, however, some business had so de- tained him, that he came to his boat much later than usual, to the surprise of those who had observed his former punctuality. He went out in the boat as heretofore to inspect a ship ; but the ship blew up just before he reached her ; it appears, that if he had left the shore a few minutes sooner, he must have perished with, the rest on board. This anecdote I had from a clergyman, up- on whose word I can depend ; who had been * Letters to a Wife, vol. ii. p. r. REV. JOHN NEWTON. 101 in intimate habits with Mr. N. and who had it *from Mr. N. himself: the reason of its not appealing in his Letters from Liverpool to Mrs. N. I can only suppose to be, his fear- ing to alarm her with respect to the dangers of his station. But another providential occur- rence, which he mentions in those letters I shall transcribe. " When I think of my settlement here, and the manner of it, I see the appointment of Pro- vidence so good and gracious, and such a plain answer to my poor prayers, that I cannot but wonder and adore. I think I have not yet told you, that my immediate predecessor in office, Mr. C — , had not the least intention of resigning his place on the occasion of his fa- ther's death ; though such a report was spread about the town, without hi: knowledge, or ra- ther in defiance of all he could say to contra- dict it. Yet to this false report I owe my situ- ation. For it put Mr. M. upon an application to Mr. S — , the member for the town; and, the very day he received the promise in my favour, Mr. C — was found dead in his bed. though he had been in company, and in per- fect health, the night before. If I mistake not, the same messenger, who brought the pro- e 1 carried back the news of the vacancy to 12 102 MEMOIRS OF THE Mr. S — , at Chester. About an hour after, the mayor applied for a nephew of his ; but, though it was only an hour or two, he was too late. Mr. S — had already written, and sent off the letter, and I was appointed accordingly. These circumstances appear to me extraordi- nary, though of a piece with many other pails of my singular history. And the more so, as by another mistake, I missed the land waiter's place, which was my first object, and which, I now see would not have suited us nearly so well. I thank God, I can now look through instruments, and second causes, and see his wisdom and goodness immediately concerned, in fixing my lot." Mr. N. having expressed, near the end of his Narrative, jfhe motives which indiiped him to aim at a regular appointment to the ministry in the church of England, and of the disap- pointment he met with in his first making the attempt, the reader is farther informed that, on Dec. 16, 1758, Mr. N. received a title to a curacy from the Rev. Mr. C , and applied ta the archbishop of York, Dr. Gilbert for or- dination. The bishop of Chester having coun- tersigned his testimonials, directed him to Dr. Newton, the archbishop's chaplain. He was referred to the secretary, and received the REV. JtHIN NEWTON. 103 softest refusal imaginable. The secretary in- formed him, that he had " represented the matter to the archbishop, but his grace was inflexible in supporting the rules and canons of the church," &c. Travelling to Loughborough, Mr. N. stop- ped at Welwyn, and sending a note to the ce- lebrated Dr. Young, he received for answer, that the doctor would be glad to see him. He found the doctor's conversation agreeable, and to answer his expectation respecting the author of the Night Thoughts. The doctor likewise seemed pleased with Mr. N. — he approved Mr. N.'s design of entering the ministry, and said many encouraging- things upon the sub- ject ; and when he dismissed Mr. N. desired him never to pass near Welwyn without call- ing upon him. Mr. 'N. it seems, had made some small at- tempts at Liverpool, in a way of preaching or expounding. Many wished him to engage more at large in those ministerial employments, to which his own mind was inclined ; and he thus expresses his motives in a letter to Mrs. N. in answer to the objections she had formed. " The late death of Mr. Jones, of St. Saviour's, has pressed this concern more closely upon my mind. I fear it must be wrong, after Raving 104 MEMOIRS OF THE so solemnly devoted myself to the Lord for his sendee, to wear away my time, and bury my talents in silence (because I have been refused orders in the church,) after all the great things He has done for me*." In a note annexed, he observes that " the influence of his judicious and affectionate coun- sellor moderated the zeal which dictated this letter, written in the year 1762 — tha^ had it BOt been for her, he should probably have been precluded from those important scenes of ser- vice, to which he was afterwards appointed:' 5 but he adds, " The exercises of my mind upon this point, I believe have not been peculiar to myself. I have known several persons, sensi- ble, pious, of competent abilities, and cordially attached to the established church ; who, be- ing wearied out with repeated refusals of ordi- nation, and, perhaps not having the advantage of such an adviser as I had, have at length struck into the itinerant path, or settled among the dissenters. Some of these, yet living, are men of respectable characters, and useful in their ministry ; but their influence, which would once have been serviceable to the true interests of the church of England, now rather operates against it." * Letters to a Wife, vol. ii. p. 79, REV. JOHN NEWTON. 105 In the year 1764 Mr. N. had the curacy of Olney proposed to him, and was recommend- ed by lord D , to Dr. Green, bishob of Lincoln ; of whose candour and tenderness he speaks with much respect. The bishop had admitted him as a candidate for orders. " The examination," says he, " lasted about an hour, chiefly upon the principal heads of divinity. As I was resolved not to be charged hereafter with dissimulation, I was constrained to differ from his lordship in some points/, but he was not offended ; he declared himself satisfied, and has promised to ordain me, either next Sunday, in town, or the Sunday following, at Buckden. — Let us praise the Lord* !" Mr. N. was ordained deacon at Buckden, April 29, 1764, and priest in June the follow- ing year. In the parish of Oiney, he found many who not only had evangelical views of the truth, but had also long walked in the light and experience of it. The vicarage was in the gift of the Earl of D , the nobleman to whom Mr. N. addressed the first twenty- six letters in his Cardiphonia. The Earl was a man of real piety, and most amiable dispo- sition; he had formerly appointed the Rev, * Letters, &c. p. 89, 106 MEMOIRS OF THE Moses Brown vicar. Mr. Brown was an evan- gelical minister, and a good man ; of course he had afforded wholesome instruction to the parishioners of Olney, and had been the in- strument of a sound conversion in many of them. He was the author of a poetical piece, entitled Sunday Thoughts, a translation of ProfeB^pp^ Zimmermann's Excellency of the Knowledge of Jesus Christ, &c. But Mr. Brown had a numerous family, and met with considerable trials in it ; he too much resembled Eli in his indulgence of his children. He was also under the pressure of pecuniary difficulties, and had therefore ac- cepted the chaplaincy of Morden College, Blackheath, while vicar of Olney. Mr. N. in these circumstances, undertook the curacy of Olney, in which he continued near sixteen years, previous to his removal to St. Mary Woolnoth, to which he was afterwards pre- sented, by the late John Thornton, Esq. As Mr. N. was under 4 the greatest obliga- tions to Mr. Thornton's friendship while at Olney, and had been enabled to extend his own usefulness by the bounty of that extra- ordinary man, it may not be foreign to our subject, to give some general outline of Mr. Thornton's character in this place. R£V. JOHN NEWTON. 107 It is said of Solomon, that the Lord gave him largeness of heart, even as the sand on the sea shore ; such a peculiar disposition for whatever was good or benevolent was also be- stowed on Mr. Thornton. He differed as much from rich men of ordinary bounty, as they do from others that are parsimonious. Nor was this bounty the result of occasional impulse, like a summer shower, violent and short ; on the contrary, it proceeded like a ri- ver, pouring its waters through various coun- tries, copious and inexhaustible. Nor could those obstructions of imposture and ingrati- tude, which have often been advanced as the cause of damming up other streams, prevent v or retard the course of this. The generosity of Mr. Thornton, indeed, frequently met with such hinderances, and led him to increasing discrimination, but the stream of his bounty never ceased to hold its course. Deep, silent, and overwhelming, it still rolled on, nor ended even with his life. But the fountain from whence this benifi- cence flow r ed, and by w T hich its permanency and direction were maintained, must not be concealed. Mr. Thornton was a Christian. Let no one, however, so mistake me here, as to suppose that I mean nothing more by the 108 MEMOIRS OF THE term Christian, than the state of one who, con- vinced of the truth of the revelation, gives as- sent to its doctrines — regularly attends its or- dinances — and maintains an external, moral, and religious deportment. Such a one may have a name to live while he is dead ; he may have a form of godliness without the power of it — he may even be found denying and ridi- culing that power — till at length, he can only be convinced of his error at an infallible tribu- nal ; w T here a widow, that gives but a mite, or a publican, that smites on his breast, shall be preferred before him. # Mr. Thornton was a Christian indeed, that is, he was alive to God by a spiritual regene- ration. With this God he was daily and ear- nestly transacting that infinitely momentous af- fair, the salvation of his own soul ; and next to that, the salvation of the souls of others. Temperate in all things, though mean in no- thing, he made provision for doing good with his opulence ; and seemed to be most in his element when appropriating a considerable part of his large income to the necessities of others. But Mr. Thornton 'possessed that discrimi- nation in his attempts to serve his fellow crea- tures, which distinguishes an enlightened REV. JOHN NEWTON. 106 mind : he habitually contemplated man, as one who has not only a body, subject to want, af* fliction, and death, but also a spirit, which is immortal, and must be happy or miserable for ever. He, therefore, felt that the noblest exertions of charity are those which are di- rected to the relief of the noblest part of our species. Accordingly he left no mode of ex- ertion untried to relieve man under his natu- ral ignorance and depravity. To this end, he purchased advousons and presentations, with a view to place in parishes the most enlight* ened, active, and useful ministers. He em- ployed the extensive commerce, in which he was engaged, as a powerful instrument for con- veying immense quantities of bibles, prayer books, and the most useful publications, to every place visited by our trade. He printed., at his own sole expense, large editions of the latter for that purpose ; and it ma)' safely be affirmed ,that there is scarcely a part of the known world, where such books could be in- troduced, which did not feel the salutary in* fluence of this single individual. Nor was Mr. Thornton limited in his views of promoting the interests of real religion, with what sect soever it was connected. He stood ready to assist a beneficial design in every par K 110 MEMOIRS OF THE ty, but would be the creature of none. Ge- neral good was his object, and wherever or however it made its way, his maxim seemed constantly to be, valeat quantum valere potest. But the nature and extent of his liberality will be greatly misconceived, if any one should suppose it confined to moral and religious ob- jects, though the grandest and most compre- hensive exertions of it. Mr. Thornton was a philanthropist on the largest scale — the friend of man under all his wants. His man- ner of relieving his fellow- men was princely ; instances might be mentioned of it, were it proper to particularize, which would surprise those who did not know Mr. Thornton. They were so much out of ordinary course and ex- pectation, that I know some, who felt it their duty to inquire of him, whether the sum they had received was sent by his intention or by mistake ? — To this may be added, that the manner of presenting his gifts was as deli- cate and concealed, as the measure was large. Beside this constant course of private dona- tions, there was scarcely a public charity, or occasion of relief to the ignorant or necessi- tous, which did not meet with his distinguish- ed support. His only question was, " May the miseries of man in any measure be re- fl E V. J H N X . Ill molded or alle^ iated ?'? Nor was he merely i languished by stretching out a liberal hand : his benevolent heart w&s so mtcnt on doi good* that he was ev< r inventing and promo- ling plans for its di at home or abro; lie that wisely desires any end, will as wise- ly regard the means ; in this Mr. Thornton was perfectly consistent. In order to execute his beneficent designs, he observed frugality and exactness in his personal expenses. By such prospective methods, he was able to ex- tend the influence of his fortune far beyond those who, in still mo; e elevated stations, are slaves to expensive habits. Such men mean- ly pace in trammels of the tyrant custom, till it leaves them scarcely enough to preserve 'their conscience, or even their credit, much less to employ their talents in Mr. Thornton's nobler pursuits. He, however, could afford to be generous ; and while he was generous, did not forget his duty in being just. He made ample provision for his children, and though, while they are living, it would be indelicate to say more, I am sure of speaking truth, when I say, — they are so for from thinking themselves impoverished by the bounty of their father, that they contemplate with the highest satisfaction the fruit of those benefits 4- 112 MEMOIRS OF THE to society, which he planted — which it may be trusted, will extend with time itself- — and which after his example, they still labour to extend. But with all the piety and liberality of this ho- noured character, no man had deeper views of his own unworthiness before his God — to the Redeemer's work alone he looked for accept- ' ance of his person and services : he felt that all he did, or could do, was infinitely short of that which had been done for him, and of the obligations that were thereby laid upon him. It was this abaseclness of heart towards God, combined with the most singular largeness of heart towards his fellow-creatures, which dis- tinguished John Thornton among men. To this common patron of every useful and pious endeavour, Mr. N. sent the Narrative from which the former part of these Memoirs is extracted. Mr. Thornton replied in his usual manner, that is, by accompanying his letter with a valuable bank-note ; and some months after, he paid Mr. N. a visit at Olney. A closer connection being now formed be- tween friends, who employed their distinct ta- lents in promoting the same benevolent cause ; Mr. Thornton left a sum of money with Mr. N. to be appropriated to the defraying his ne- RBV. J Miry exp< ind relic \ ing the ])oor. M Be hospitable," said Mr. Thornton', " and keep an open house for sueh as are worthy of enter- tainment — help the poor and needy ; I will statedly allow you £ 200 a year, and readily d whatever you have occasion to draw for rftare." — Mr. N. told me, that he thought he had received of Mr. Thornton upwards of 3000 in this way, during the time he re- sided at Olney. The case of most ministers is peculiar in this respect ; some among them may be look- ed up to, on account of their publicity and ta- lents ; 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 narrow- ness of their pecuniary circumstances, and from the largeness of their families, they often perceive, that an ordinary tradesman in their parishes, can subscribe to a charitable or po- pular institution much more liberally than themselves. This would have been Mr. N.'s ease, but for the above-mentioned singular patronage. A minister, however, should not be so for- getful of his dispensation, as to repine at his want of power in this respect. He might as K 2 114 MEMOIRS OF THE 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 communi- cated to her, and her bestowment of her two mites was better accepted than the large offer- ings 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 Po- et Co wper. There has gone forth an un- founded report, that the deplorable melancho- ly of Cowper, was, in part, derived from his residence and connections in that place. The fact, however, is the reverse of this ; and as it may* be of importance to the interests of true religion to prevent such a misrepresenta- tion from taking root, I will present the real state of the case, as I have found it attested by the most respectable living witnesses ; and more especially, as confirmed by a MS. writ- REV. JOHN NEWTON. 115 ten by the poet himself, at the calmest period of his life ; with the perusal of which I v favoured 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 great- er or less degree. He was sent to Westmin- ster 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 " produced," as one of his biographers observes, who had long in- timacy with him, " an indelible effect upon his mind through life." — A person so natural- ly bashful and depressed as Cowper, must needs find the profession of a barrister a far- ther occasion of anxiety : the post obtained for him by his friends in the House of Lords over- whelmed 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 alrea- dy incapacitated for business. To all this were added events, which of themselves have been found sufficient to overset the minds of the strongest ; namely, the decease of his par- 116 MEMOIRS OF THE titular friend and intimate Sir William Riis- sel ; and his meeting with a disappointment in obtaining a lady, upon whom his affections were placed. But the state of a person, torn and depres- sed (not by his religious connections, but) by adverse circumstances, and these meeting a naturally morbid sensibility, long before he knew Oiney, or had formed any connection with its inhabitants, will best appear from some verses which he sent at this time to one of his female relations, and for the communication of which, we are indebted to Mr. Hayley : " Doom'cl as I am, in solitude to waste The present moments, and regret the past ; - Deprived of every joy I valued most, My friend torn from me, and my mistress lost ; Call not this gloom I wear, this anxious mein, The dull effect of*humour or of spleen i Still, still I mourn with each returning day, Him — snatch'd by fate in early youth, away ; And her — through tedious years of doubt and pain, Fix'd in her choice, and faithful — but in vain. See me — ere yet my destin'd course half done, Cast forth a wand'rer on a wild unknown ! See me,' neglected on the world's rude coast, - Each dear companion of my voyage lost ! Nor ask, why clouds of sorrow shade my brow. And ready tears wait only leave to now ; Why all that soothes a heart, from anguish free, Ail that delights the happy — palls with ,me ?" REV. JOHN N EM ION. 117 That any man, under such pressures, should at first turn his mind to those resources which religion alone can afford, is both natural and rational. But Mr. Cbwper was like a person looking 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 sus- ceptible a mind, that his unhappiness should be increased. — -And yet this very mind of Cowper, when put under the care of Dr. Cot- ton, of St. Albans (a physician as capable of administering to the spiritual, as to the natural maladies of his patients) received the first con- solation it ever tasted, and that from evangeli- cal truths. It was under the care of this phy- sician, that Mr. C. 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 constitutional malady from being produced or increased by his evangelical connections, either at St. Albans or at Olney, that he seems never to have had any settled peace but from the truths he learned in these societies. It ap- pears that among them alone he found the only 1.18 MEMOIRS OF THE 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. u Him hajth 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, which 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-crea- tures. Mr. N. told me, that from Mr. Cowper's first coming to Olney, it w r as observed 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 en- joyed a course of peace for several successive years — that, during this period, the insepara- ble attendants of a lively faith appeared, by Mr, Cowper's exerting himself to the utmost of his REV. JOHN NEWTON. 119 power in every benevolent 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 Chat large and necessitous parish. But the malady, which seemed to be subdu- ed by the strong consolations of the Gospel, was still latent ; and only required some occa- sion of irritation to break out again, and over- whelm the patient. Any object of constant attention that shall occupy a mind previous!} disorded, 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 shew us how r 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, indeed, could be affected either by the Bible or by Homer, but was ut- terly distinct in its nature from the mere matter of either. And here, I canngt but mark this necessary distinction ; having often been wit- ness to cases where religion has been assigned as the proper cause of insanity, when it lias been onlv an accidental occasion, in the i 120 MEMOIRS OF THE of one already affected*. Thus Cowper's ma- malady, like a strong current, breaking down the banks which had hitherto sustained the * I have been an eye witness of several instances of this kind of misrepresentation, but will detain the reader with mentioning only one. I was called to visit a wo- man whose mind was disordered, and, on my observing that it was a case which required the assistance of a phy- sician, rather than that of a clergyman, her husband re- plied; " Si?-, 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 per- sons 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 inter- rupted 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 consolotion left her. Her health and spirits at length sunk tinder her troubles ; and there she lies distracted, not from reading her Bible, but from the infidelity and cruelty of her husband. 9% ~~ Does the reader wish to know what reply the husband made to this? He made no reply at all, but left the room with confusion of face I REV. JOHN NEWTON, 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 returned, aftei an apparent recovery of nearly nine years co:i tinuance ; 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 extra ordinary genius is already before the public, such particulars would not have occupied so much room in these Memoirs, but with a 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 Sand- ford ; a man whose ministry and writings have since been so useful to mankind. This cler- gyman was nearly a Socinian : he was in the habit of ridiculing evangelical religion, and la boured to bring over Mr. N. to his own sen timents. Mr. Scott had married a lady from the family of a Mr. Wright, a gentleman in his parish, who had promised to provide I La 122 MEMOIRS OF THE him. But Mr. Scott's objection to subscrip- tion arose so high, that he informed his patron it would be in vain to attempt providing for him ia the Church of England ; as he could not conscientiously accept a living, on the condition of subscribing its liturgy and arti- cles. " 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. * " I was, says he, full of proud self-sufficien^ cy, very positive, and very obstinate : and, being situated in the neighbourhood of some of those whom the world calls Methodists, I joined in the prevailing sentiment ; held them in sovereign contempt ; spoke of them with derision ; declaimed against them from the pulpit, as persons full of bigotry, enthusiasm, and sptritual pride ; laid heavy things to their charge ; and endeavoured to prove the doc- trines, which I supposed them to hold, (for I had never read their books) to be dishonoura- ble to God, and destructive of morality. And though in some companies I chose to conceal part of my sentiments, and in all, affected to & Sc .V Force < } 3 ; of Truth, p. 11, 5th edit. REV. JOHN NEWTON, 123 speak as a friend to universal toleration ; j scarcely any person could be more proudly and violently prejudiced against both theii 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, accor- ding to my general custom, not being sent for, I took no notice of it ; till one evening, the woman being now dead, and the man a dying, I heard that my neighbour Mr. N. had been several times to visit them. Immediately my conscience reproached me with being shame- fully negligent, in sitting at home within a few- doors of dying persons, my general hearers, and never going to visit them. Directly it occurred to me, that, whatever contempt I might have for Mr. N.'s doctrines, I must ac- knowledge his practice to be more consistent with the ministerial character than my own. He must have more zeal and love for souls, than I had, or he would not have walked so far to visit, and supply my Jack of care to those who, as far as I was concerned, might have been left to perish in their sins. u This reflection affected me so much, that without delay, and very earnestly, yea with tears,- I besought the Lord to forgive my past i-4 MEMOIRS OF THE neglect ; and I resolved thenceforth to be more attentive to this duty : which resolution, though at fifst formed in ignorant dependence on my own strength, I have by divine grace been enabled hitherto to keep. — I went imme- diately to visit the survivor ; and the affecting bight of one person already dead, and another expiring in the same chamber, served more deeply to impress my serious convictions. " It was at this time that my correspondence with Mr. N. commenced. At a visitation. May 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 glad- ly 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 cnthusiastical 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 cha . REV. JOHN NEWT OX. meter he sustained even among some persons, who expressed a disapprobation of his doc- trines. They were forward to commend him as a benevolent, disinterested, inoffensive per- son, and a laborious minister. But, on the other hand, I looked upon his religious senti- ments as rank fanaticism ; and entertained a very contemptible opinion of his abilities, na- tural and acquired. Once I had had the cu- riosity to hear him preach; and, not under- standing his sermon, I made a very great jest of it, where I could do it without giving of- fence. I had also read one of his publica- tions ; but for the same reason I thought the greater part of it whimsical, paradoxical, and unintelligible. " 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 tMhi given me ;) with the greatest affectation of candour, and of amine! a to conviction, I wrote him a long letter ; purposing to draw from him such an avowal and explanation of his sentiments, as might in- troduce a conaroversial discussion of our reli- gious differences. , f * The event by no means answered my ex- L2 1.26 MEMOIRS OF THE pectation.% He returned a very friendly and long answer to my letter ; in which he care- fully avoidqj^ the mention of those doctrines which he knew would offend me. He de- clared that he believed me to be one who fear- ed 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 aijy subject, with ail the confidence of friendship. " In this manner our correspondence be- gan ; and it was continued, in the interchange 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 controversy, and filled my letters with defiTiitions, inquiries, arguments, objections, and consequences requiring expli- cit answers. He, on the other hand, shunned every thing controversial as much as possible, and filled his letters with the most useful and least offensive instructions : except that, now *nd then, he dropped his hints concerning the necessity, the true nature, and the efficacy of REV. J WTOX. 127 faith, and the manner in which it charging the duties of his station, and watch- ing for the temporal and eternal welfare of his flock, a dreadful fire broke out at Olney, Oc- tober 1777. Mr. N. took an active part in comforting and relieving the sufferers : he col- lected upwards of ^200 for them ; a consider able sum of money, when the poverty, and late calamity of the place is regarded. Such in- stances of benevolence towards the people, with the constant assistance he afforded 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 particular occasions. But, to use his own i pression, he had " lived to bury the old crop, on which any dependence could be placed." He preached a weekly lecture, which occurred that year on the 5th of November ; and, as ht feared that the usual way of celebrating it a* 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 harkening to his intreaties. the looser sort exceeded their former extrava- gance, drunkenness, and rioting, and even obliged him to send out money, to preserve, his house from violence. This happened but 132 MEMOIRS OF THE 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 soli- tary fact, nor at all unaccountable. The Gos- pel 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 persua- ding 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 discovers any zeal, it is directed to keep the parish in the state he found it ; that is, in ignorance and unbelief, worldly- REV. JOHN NI 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 com- mission — 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 and those that hear him, he may depend upon meeting in his own experience the truth of that declaration, Yea, all that will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer perse- cution, in one form of it or another. One of the most melancholy sights we behold is, when any part of the church, through prejudice, joins the world in throwing the stone. There is, however, such a determined enmity to god- liness itself, in the breasts of a certain class of men existing in most parishes, that, whatever learning and good sense is found in their teacher — whatever consistency of character or blameless deportment he exhibits — whatever benevolence or bounty (like that which Mr. N. exercised at Olney) may constantly appear in his character — such men remain irreconci- lable. They will resist every attempt made to appease their enmity. God alone, who M 134 MEMOIRS OF THE changed the hearts of Paul and of Newton , can heal these bitter waters. I recollect to have heard Mr. N. say on such an occasion, " When God is about to perform any great work, he generally permits some great opposition to it. Suppose Pha- raoh had acquiesced in the departure of the children of Israel — or that they had met with no difficulties in the way — they would, indeed, have passed from Egypt to Canaan w r ith ease : but they, as well as the church in all future ages, would have been great losers. The wonder-working God would not have been seen "in those extremities which make his arm so visible — A smooth passage here, would have made but a* poor story." But under such disorders, Mr. N. in no one instance that I ever heard of, was tempted to depart from the line marked out by the pre- cept and example of* his master. He conti- nued to bless them that persecuted him ; knowing that the servant of the Lord must not strive, but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient. To the last day he spent among them, he went straight forward, in meekness, instructing those that opposed, if God peradventure might give them repentance to the acknowledging the truth. REV. JOHN NEWTON". 135 But before we take a final leave of Olaey, the reader must be informed of another part 6f Mr: N.'s labours. He had published a vo- lume of sermons, before he took orders, dated Liverpool, Jan. 1, 1760. In 1762, he pub- lished liis Omicron, to which his tetters, si^u- Vigil, were afterwards annexed. In 1764, d his Narrative. In 1767, a volume of sermons, preached at Olney. In 1769, his Review of Ecclesiastical History. And in 177 ( J, a volume of hymns; of which some were composed by Mr. Cowper, and dis bed by a C. To these succeeded, in 1781, his valuable work Cardiphonia ; but mere will be said of these in their place. From Olney Mr. N. was removed to the rectory of the united parishes of St. Mary Woolnoth, and St. Mary Woolchurch-Haw, Lombard street, on the presentation of his friend Mr. Thornton. It is remarkable, that these parishes had been favoured with two very eminent pastors before Mr. N. appeared ; namely, the Rev. Josias Shute, B. D. Archdeacon of Cole!; ter, and Rector of St. Mary Woolnoth, who died 1643 — and the Rev. Ralph Robinson, who died in 1655. There is a well-written omit of Mr. Shute in the Christian Ob 136 MEMOIRS OF THE vcv of January 1804; from which it appears, that his piety, ministerial talents, and modera- tion, in those difficult times, were very much distinguished, during the thirty-three years he continued rector*. Mr. Robinson died young but has left a volume of truly evangelical dis- courses, preached at St. Mary's. Some difficulty arose on Mr. N.'s being presented, by Mr. Thornton's right of pre- sentation being claimed by a nobleman ; the question was, therefore, at length brought be- fore the House of Lords, and determined in favour of Mr. Thornton. Mr. N. preached his first sermon in these, parishes, Dec. 19, 1779, from Eph. iv. 15. Speaking the truth in love. It contained an affectionate address to his parishioners, and was directly published for their use. * Granger, in his Biographical History of England, says, that " his learning in divinity and ecclesiastical history was extensive, indeed almost universal." And even Walker, in his Account of the Clergy, says, that, "'In the beginning of the troubles, he was molested and harrassed to death, and denied a funeral sermon to be preached for him by Dr. Holdsworth, as he desired — that he was a person of great piety, charity, and gra- vity, and of a most sweet and affable temper." It fur- ther appears, that, like his successor Mr. N. he preached twice on the Sunday, an d^ had a lecture in hsi church every Wednesday. REV. J Oil N N E\\ TON. Here a new and very distinct scene of a< and usefulness was set before him. Placed in the centre of London — in an opulent neigh - irhood — with connections daily increasing, lie had now a course of service to pursue, in several respects different from his former at ley. Being, however, well acquainted with word of God and the heart of man, he pro- d to himself no new weapons pulling down the strong holds of sin and around 'him. He perceived, indeed, most of his parishioners too intent upon their ilth and merchandize to pay much regard their new minister ; but, since the} would hot come to him, he was determined to go, as far as he could, to them ; and, e, soon r his institution, he sent a printed add- to his parishioners: he afterv ht them ither address, on the us taken up against the C spek What ef- fects these attempts had then upon thei not appear ; certain it is, tli^tt these her acts of his ministry, will be recollected by them, when the objects of their present p\ir- 5 arc forgotten or lament I have heard Mr. N. speak with great feel- ing on the circumstances of his last import; station, *i That one," said he,"" of the fnost M2 138 MEMOIRS OP THE ignorant, the most miserable, and the most abandoned of slaves, should be plucked from his forlorn state of exile on the coast of Afri- ca, and at length be appointed minister of the parish of the first magistrate of the first city in the world — -that he should there not only testi- fy of such grace, but stand up as a singular instance and monument of it — that he should be enabled to record it in his history, preach- ing, and writings to the world at large — is a fact I can contemplate with admiration, but never sufficiently estimate." — This reflection, indeed, was so present to his mind on all oc- casions, and in all places, that he seldom pass- ed a single day any where, but he was found referring to the strange event, in one way or other. It may be necessary to add, that the latter part of these Memoirs leads me to speak so personally of my friend, that any further in- spection from his own eye was deemed impro- per. When Mr. N. came to St. Mary's, he resi- ded for some time in Charles' Square, Hox- ton ; afterwards he removed to Coleman street buildings, where he continued till his death. Being of the most friendly and communica- tive disposition^ his house was open to Chris- v. JOHN m:\vtox. tians of all ranks and denominations. II like a lather among his children, he used to entertain, encourage and instruct his friends, especially younger ministers, or candidates for the ministry. Here also the poor, the afflict- ed, and the tempted, found an asylum, and a sympathy, which they could scarcely find, in an equal degree, any where besides. His timely hints were often given with much point, and profitable address, to the numerous acquaintance which surrounded him in this public station. Some time after Mr. N. had published his Omicron, and described the three stages of growth in religion, from the blade, the ear, and the full corn in the ear, distinguishing them by the letters A. B. and C. a conceited young minister wrote to Mr. X. telling him that he read his own character accurately drawn in that of C. Mr. N. wrote in reply, that in drawing the character of C. or full maturity, he had forgotten to add till now, one prominent feature of C.'s character, namely, that C. never knew his own face. " It grieves me," said Mr. N. "to see so few of my wealthy parishioners come to church. I always consider the rich as under greater obligations to the preaching of the gos- pel than the poor. For at church, the rich 140 MEMOIRS OP THE must hear the whole truth as well as others. There they have no mode of escape. But let them once get home, you will be troubled to get at them ; and, when you are admitted, you are so fettered with punctilio — so interrupted and damped with the frivolous conversation of their friends, that, as Archbishop Leighton says, c it is well if your visit does not prove a -blank or a blot.' " Mr. N. used to improve every occurrence which he could with propriety bring into the pulpit. One night he found a bill put up at St. Mary Woolnotlvs, upon which he com- mented a great deal when he came to preach. The bill was to this effect, " A young man, having come to the possesion of a very consi- derable fortune, desires the prayers of the con- gregation, that he may be preserved from the snares to which it exposes him.'' — " Now if the man," said Mr. N. " had lost a fortune, the world w r ould not have wondered to have seen him put up a bill, but this man has been bet- ter taught." Coming out of his church, on a Wednes- day, a lady stopped him on the steps and said, hi The ticket, of which I held a quarter, is drawn a prize of ten thousand pounds. I know you will congratulate me upon the oc- JtEV. JOHN NEWTON. Ill ion." — " Madam," said he, " as for a friend under temptation, I will endeavour to pray for you." Soon after he came to St. Mary's, I re- member to have heard him say, in a eertain company, " Some have observed that I preach shorter sermons on a Sunday morn- ing, and with more caution : but this I do up- on principle. — I suppose I may have two or three of my bankers present, and some others of my parish, who have hitherto been stran- gers to my views of truth. I endeavour to imitate the apostle. ' I became,' says he, * all things to all men;' but observe the end, it was in order to gain some — The fowler must go cautiously to meet shy birds, but he will not leave his powder and shot behind him. I have fed you with milk, says the apostle ; but there are some, that are not only for forcing strong meat, but bones too, down the throat of the child. — We must have patience with a single step in the case of an infant ; and there one-step books. and sermons which are good in their place. Christ taught his disci- ples as they were able to bear ; and it was up- on the same principle that the apostle accom- modated himself to prejudice. — Now," con- tinued he, " what I wish to remark on tl 142 MEMOIRS OF THE considerations is, that, this apostolical princi- ple, steadily pursued, will render a minister apparently inconsistent — superficial hearers will think him a trimmer. On the other hand, a minister, destitute of the apostolical princi- ple and intention, and directing his whole force to preserve the appearance of consisten- cy, may thus seem to preserve it ; hut let me tell you, here is only the form of faithfulness, without the spirit." I could not help observing one day, how much Mr. N. was grieved with the mistake of a minister^ who appeared to pay too much attention to politics. " For my part," said he, " I have no temptation to turn politician, and much less to inflame a party, in these times. When a ship is leaky, and a mutinous spirit divides the company on board : a wise man w r ould say, ' My good friends, while we are ' debating, the water is gaining on us — we 1 had better leave the debate, and go to the 8 pumps.' — I endeavour," continued he, " to turn my people's eyes from instruments to God. I am continually attempting to shew them, how far they are from knowing either the matter of fact, or the matter of right. I inculcate our great privileges in this country, REV. JOHN NEWTON. and advise a discontented man to take a loci;; ing for a little while in Russia or Prussia." Though no great variety of anecdote is to be expected in a course so stationary as this part of Mr. N.'s life and ministry ; for some times the course of a single day might give the account of a whole year ; yet that day was so benevolently spent, that he was found in it not only rejoicing with those that rejoiced, but literally weeping with those that wept. The portrait which Goldsmith drew from imagina- tion, Mr. N. realized in fact, insomuch that had Mr. N. sat for his picture to the poet, it could not have been more accurately delinea- ted than by the following lines in his Deserted Village : " Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power. By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour ; Far other aims his heart had learned to prize. More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride And e'en his failings lean'cl to Virtue's side ; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watch'd and wept, he pray.'d and felt, for all : And as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledg'd offspring to the sk He tried each art, reprov'd each dull delay, Allur'd to brighter worlds, and led the way." I remember to have heard him say; when 144 MEMOIRS OF THE speaking of his continual interruptions, " I see in this world two heaps of human happi- ness and misery ; now if I can take but the smallest bit from one heap and add to the other, I carry a point. — If, as I go home, a child has dropped a halfpenny, and if, by giv- ing it another, I can wipe away its tears, I feel I have done something. I should be glad in- deed to do greater things, but I will not ne- glect this. — When I hear a knock at my stu- dy door, I hear a message from God ; it may be a lesson of instruction, perhaps a lesson of patience ; but, since it is his message, it must be interesting." But it was not merely under his own roof that his benevolent aims ,were thus exerted ; he waa found ready to take an active part in relieving the miserable, directing the anxious, or recovering the wanderer, in whatever state or place L discovered such : of which take the following instance. Mr. , who is still living, and who holds a post of great importance abroad, was a youth of considerable talents, and who had a respectable education. I am not informed of his original destination in point of profession ; but certain it is, that he left his parents in Scot- land, with a design of viewing the world at REV. JOHN NEWTON. 145 targe, and that without those pecuniary resour- ces, which could render such an undertaking convenient, or even practicable. Yet having the sanguine expectations of youth, together with its inexperience, he determinately pursu- ed his plan. I have seen an account from his own hand, of the strange, but by no means dis- honourable, resources to which he was reduced in the pursuit of this scheme ; nor can romance exceed the detail. But the particulars of his long journey, till he arrived in London, and those which have since occurred, would not be proper, at present, for any one to record ex- cept himself; and I cannot but w r ish he would favour the world with them, on the principle which led Mr. N. to write his Narrative. To London, however, he came ; and then, he seemed to come to himself. He had heard Mr. N.'s character, and on a Sunday evening he came to St. Mary Woolnoth, and stood in one of the aisles while Mr. N. preached. In the course of that week he wrote Mr. N. some account of his adventure, and state of mind Such circumstances could be addressed to no man more properly. Mr. N.'s favourite maxr im was often in his mouth, more often in his actions, and always in his heart ; H&uci succurrcrc disco. 146 MEMOIRS OF THE Mr. N. therefore gave notice from the pulpit on the following Sunday evening, that, if the person was present who had sent him such a letter, he would be glad to speak with him. Mr. gladly accepted the invitation, and came to Mr. N.'s house, where a friend- ship began which continued till Mr. N.'s death. Mr. N. not only afforded this youth the instruc- tion which he, at this period, so deeply needed ; but, marking his fine abilities and corrected inclination, he introduced him to Henry Thorn- ton, Esq. who, inheriting his father's unbound- ed liberality, and determined adherence to the cause of real religion, readily patronized the stranger. Mr. was, by the munificence qf this gentleman, supported through a univer- sity education, and was afterwards ordained to the curacy of . It was, however, thought expedient that his talents should be employed in an important station abroad, which he readily undertook, and in which* he now maintains a very distinguished character. It ought not to be concealed that Mr. , since his advancement, has not only returned his patron the whole expense of his university education, but has also placed in his hands an ecjual sum, for the education of some pious REV. JOHN NEWTON. 147 youth ; who might be deemed worthy of that assistance once afforded to himself ! Mr. N. used to spend a month or two, an- ally, at the house of some friend in the coun- f rv ; he always took an affectionate leave of his congregation before he departed, and spake of his leaving town as quite uncertain of re- turning to it, considering the variety of inci- dents which might prevent that return. No- thing was more remarkable than his constant habit of regarding the hand of God in every event, however trivial it might appear to others. On every occasion — in the concerns of every hour — in matters public or private, like Enoch, he walked with God. Take a single instance of his state of mind in this respect. In walk- ing to his church he would say, " The way of man is not in himself, nor can he conceive what belongs to a single step — when I go to St. Mary Woolnoth, it seems the same whether I turn down Lothbury or go through the Old Jewry, but the going through one street and not another, may produce an effect of lasting consequences. — A man cut down my ham- mock in sport, but had he cut it down half an .hour later, I had not been here ; as the ex- change of crew was then making. — A mat) made a smoke on the sea shore at the time a 148 MEMOIRS' OF THE ship passed, which was thereby brought to, and afterwards brought me to England." Mr. N. had experienced a severe stroke soon after he came to St. Mary's, and while he resided in Charles' Square, in the death of his niece. Miss Eliza Cunningham. He loved her with the affection of a parent, and she was, indeed, truly lovely. He had brought her up, and had observed that, with the most amiable natural qualities, she possessed a real piety. With every possible attention from Mr. and Mrs. Newton and their friends, they saw her gradually sink into the arms of death ; but fully prepared to meet him, as a messenger sent from a yet kinder Father, to whom she departed, October 6th, 1785, aged fourteen years and eight months. On this occasion Mr. N. published some brief memoirs of her cha- racter and death. In the years 1784 and 1785, Mr. N. preach- ed a course of sermons, on an occasion, of which he gives the following account in his first discourse: " Conversation in almost every company, for some time past, has much turned upon the commemoration of Handel, — and particularly on his oratorio of the Messiah. I mean to lead your meditations to the language, of the oratorio, and to consider, in their order, REV. JOHN NEWTOX. 149 ^ if* the Lord, on whom our breath depends, shall be pleased to afford life, ability, and op- portunity) the several sublime and interesting passages of Scripture, which are the basis of that admired composition." In the "year 1786, he published these discourses, in two volumes octavo. There is a passage so original, at the beginning of his fourth sermon, from Mai. iii. 1 — 3. The Lord, whom ye seek, shall sud- denly come to his temple, &c. that I shall trans- cribe it for the use of such as have not seen these discourses ; at the same time it will, in a few words, convey Mr. N.'s idea of the usual performance of this oratorio, or attending its performance, in present circumstances. " Whereunto shall we liken the people of this generation, and to what are they like ? 1 represent to myself a number of persons, of various characters, involved in one common charge of high treason. They are already in a state of confinement, but not yet brought to their trial. The facts, however, are so plain, and the evidence against them so strong and pointed, that there is not the least doubt of their guilt being fully proved, and that nothing but a pardon can preserve them from punish^ ment. In this situation, it should seem their wisdom to avail themselves of every expedient N2 150 MEMOIRS OF THE in their power for obtaining mercy. But they are entirely regardless of their danger, and whol- ly taken up with contriving methods of amus- ing themselves, that they may pass away the term of their imprisonment with as much cheerfulness as possible. Among other re- sources, they call in the assistance of music. And amidst a great variety of subjects in this way, they are particularly pleased with one. They choose to make the solemnities of their im- pending trial, the character of their judge, the methods of his procedure, and the awful sen- tence to which they are exposed, the ground- work of a musical entertainment. And, as if they were quite unconcerned in the event, their attention is chiefly, fixed upon the skill of the composer, in adapting the style of his music to the very solemn language and subject with which they are trifling. The king, however, out of his great clemency and compassion to- wards those who have no pity for themselves, prevents them with his goodness. Undesired by them, he sends them a gracious message. He assures them that he is unwilling they shp^ild suffer : he requires, yea, he entreats them to submit. He points out a way in which their confession and submission shall be cer- tainly accepted ; and in this way, which he REV. JOHN NEWTON. 151 condescends to prescribe, he offers them a free and a full pardon. But instead of taking a sin- gle step towards a compliance with his good- >, they set his message likewise to music : and this, together with a description of their present state, and of the fearful doom awaiting them, if they continue obstinate, is sung for their diversion; accompanied with the sound of cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulci- mer, and all kinds of instruments. Surely, if such a case as I have supposed could be found in real life, though I might admire the musical taste of these people, I should commiserate their insensibility !" But clouds return after the rain : a greater loss than that of Miss C. was to follow. Enough has been said in these Memoirs al- ready to shew the more than ordinary affec- tion Mr. N. ^lt for her who had been so long his idol, as he used to call her ; of w T hich I shall add but one more instance, out of man) that might easily be collected. Being with him at the house of a lady at Blackheath, we stood at a window which had a prospect of Shooter's Hill. " Ah," said Mr. N. " I remember the many journies 1 took from London to stand at the top of that hill, in order to look towards the part in which 152 MEMOIRS OF THE Mrs. N. then lived : not that I could see the spot itself, after travelling several miles, for she lived far beyond what I could see, when on the hill ; but it gratified me even to look towards the spot : and this I did always once, and sometimes twice a week." — Why, said I, this is more like one of the vagaries of ro- mancethan of real life. — " True," replied he, u but real life has extravagancies that would not be admitted to appear in a well-written romance — they would be said to be out of na- ture." In such a continued habit of excessive at- tachment, it is evident how keenly Mr. N. must have felt, while he observed the progress of a threatening induration in her breast. This tumour seemed to have arisen from a blow ' she received before she left Liverpool. The pain it occasioned at the time soon wore off, but a small lump remained in the part affect- ed. In October 1788. on the tumour's in- creasing, she applied to an eminent surgeon, who told her it was a cancer, and now too large for extraction, and that he could only recom- mend quiet. As the spring of 1789 advanced, her malady increased ; and though she was able to bear a journey to Southampton, from which she returned,, in other respects, tolera- REV. JOHN NEWTON. 153 bly well ; she grew gradually worse with the cancer, till she expired December 15, 1790. Mr. N. made this remark on her death, 41 Just before Mrs. N.'s disease became so formidable, I was preaching on the waters of Egypt being turned into blood. The Egyp- tians had idolized their river, and God made them loath it. I was apprehensive it would soon be a similar case with me." — During the very affecting season of Mrs. N.'s dissolu- tion, Mr. N. like David, wept and prayed; but the desire of his eyes being taken away by the stroke, he too, like David, arose from the earth, and came into the temple of the Lord, and worshipped, and that in a manner which surprised some of his friends. I must own I was not one of those who saw any thing that might not be expected from such a man, surrounded with such circum- stances. I did not wonder at his undertaking to preach Mrs. N.'s funeral sermon, on the following Sunday, at St. Mary's : since I al- ways considered him as an original, and his case quite an exception to general habits in many respects. There also could be no ques- tion as to the affection he had borne to the de- ceased — it had even prevailed, as he readily allowed, to an eccentric and blameable de- 154 MEMOIRS OF THE gree ; and indeed after her removal, he used to observe an annual seclusion, for a special recollection of her, whom through the year he had never forgotten, and from which proceed- ed a sort of little elegies, or sonnets to her me- mory. But he clearly recognised the will of God in the removal of his idol, and reasoned as David did on the occasion; " While she was yet alive I fasted and wept : for I said, Who can tell whether God will be gracious to me, that she may live ? But, now she is dead, wherefore should Can I bring her back again ? I shaK z;o to her, but she shall not return to me." Besides which, Mr. N. had a favourite sen- timent, which I have heard him express in dif- ferent ways, long before he had so special an occasion for illustrating it in practice. " God in his providence," he used to say, " is conti- nually bringing about occasions to demon- strate characters." He used to instance the case of Achan and Judas among bad men ; and that of St. Paul, Acts, xxvii. among good ones. " If any one," said he, " had asked the centurion who Paul the prisoner was, that sailed with them on board the ship ? — it is probable he would have thus replied, ' lie is 4 a troublesome enthusiast, who has lately join. REV. JOHN NEWTON. J 55 1 ed himself to a certain sect. These people * affirm that a Jewish malefactor, who was cm- % cified some years usatem, rose the ' third day from the dead ; and this Paul i^ i mad enough to assert that Jesus, the leader i of their sect, is not only now alive, but that i he himself has seen him, and is resolved to i live and die for him — Poor crazy creature ! ' But God made use of this occasion to disco- ver the real character of Paul, and taught the centurion, from the circumstances which fol- lowed, to whom it was he owed his direction in the storm, and for whose sake he received his preservation through it." In all trying occasions, therefore, Mr. X. was particularly impressed with the idea of a Christian, and especially of a Christian minis- ter being called to stand forward as an exam- ple to his flock — to feel himself placed in a post of honour — a post, in which he may not only glorify God, but also forcibly demon strate the peculiar supports of the Gospel. More especially, when this could be done (as in his own case) from no doubtful motive ; then, it may be expedient to leave the path 'of ordinary custom, for the greater reason of < fribiting both the doctrines of truth, and the •experience of their power. 156 MEMOIRS OF THE Though I professedly publish none of Mr. N.'s letters for reasons hereafter assigned, yet I shall take the liberty to insert part of one, with which I am favoured by J. F , Esq. of Stanmore Hill, written to him while at Rome, and dated December 5th, 1796. It shews the interest which the writer took in the safety of his friend, and his address in attempt- ing to break the enchantments with which men of taste are surrounded, when standing in the centre of the fine arts. " The true Christian, in strict propriety of speech, has no home here ; he is, and must be, a stranger and a pilgrim upon earth : his citi- zenship, treasure, and real home are in a bet- ter world ; and every step he takes, whether to the east, or to the west, is a step nearer to his Father's house. — On the other hand, when in the path of duty, he is always at home ; for the whole earth is the Lord's : and as we see the same sun in England or Italy, in Europe or Asia, so wherever he is, he equally sets the liord always before him ; and finds himself equally near the throne of grace at all times, and in all places. — God is every where, and by faith in the Great Mediator, he dwells in God, and God in him ; to him that line of Horace may be applied in the best sense, REV. JOHN NEWTON. 4 Caelum, non animum mutant, qui tvans marc currunt/ " 1 trust, my dear Sir, that you will carry out and bring home with you, a determination similar to that of the patriarch Jacob ; who vowed a vow, saying, i If God will be with * me, and will keep me in the way that I go, * and will give me bread to eat, and raiment to i put on, so that I come again to my father's : house in peace, then shall the Lord be my * God ! ' — May the Lord himself write it on your heart ! " You are now at Rome, the centre of the fine arts ; a place abounding with every thing to gratify a person of your taste. Athens had the pre-eminence in the Apostle Paul's time y and I think it highly probable, from many pas- sages in his writings, that he likewise had a taste capable of admiring and relishing the beauties of painting, sculpture, and architec- ture, which he could not but observe during his abode in that city : but then he had a high* er, a spiritual, a divine taste, which was greatly shocked and grieved by the ignorance, idola r try, and wickedness which surrounded him ? insomuch that he could attend to nothing else. —This taste, which cannot be acquired by ari| effort or study of ours, but is freely bestcmrfl O 138 MEMOIRS OF THE on all who sincerely ask it of the Lord, divests the vanities which the world admire, of their glare ; and enables us to judge of the most splendid and specious works of men who know not God, according to the declaration of the prophet, ' They hatch cockatrice eggs, and 4 weave the spider's web.' — Much ingenuity is displayed in the weaving of a cobweb, but when finished, it is worthless and useless : in- cubation requires close diligence and attention : if the hen is too long from her nest, the egg is spoiled ; but why should she sit at all upon the egg, and watch it, and warm it night and day, if it only produces a cockatrice at last ? Thus vanity or mischief are the chief rulers of un- sanctified genius — the artists spin webs, and the philosophers, by their learned speculations, hatch cockatrices, to poison themselves and their fellow-creatures : few 7 of either sort have one serious thought of that awful eternity, upon the brink of which they stand for a while, and into the depth of which they successively fall. " A part of the sentence denounced'against the city which once stood upon seven hills, is so pointed and graphical, that I must trans- cribe it : ' And the voice of harpers, and mu- • sicians, and pipers, and trumpeters, shall be REV. JOHN NEWTON. 159 c heard no more at all in thee ; and no crafts - 1 man, of whatsoever craft he be, shall be found 4 any more in thee, and the light of a candle ' shall no more be seen in thee.' — Now, I am informed that upon certain occasions, the whole cupola of St. Peter's is covered with lamps, and affords a very magnificent spectacle : if I saw it, it would remind me of that time when there will not be the shining of a single candle in the city ; for the sentence must be executed, and the hour may be approaching — ' Sic transit gloria muncli !' " You kindly inquire after my health : my- self and family are through the divine favour perfectly w r ell ; yet, healthy as I am, I labour under a growing disorder, for which there is no cure ; I mean old age. I am not sorry it is a mortal disease, from which no one reco- vers ; for who would live always in such a world as this, who has a scriptural hope of an inheritance in the world of light ? I am now in my seventy-second year, and seem to have lived long enough for myself; I have known something of the evil of life, and have had a large share of the good : I know what the world can do, and what it cannot do ; it can neither give nor take away that peace of God, which 160 MEMOIRS OF THE passeth all understanding ; it cannot soothe a wounded conscience, nor enable us to meet death with comfort. — That you, my dear sir, may have an abiding and abounding experi- ence that the Gospel is a catholicon, adapted to all our wants, and all our feelings, and a suit- able help, when every other help fails, is the sincere and ardent prayer of " Your affectionate friend, "• John Newton." But in proportion as Mr. N. felt the vanity of the pursuits he endeavoured to expose in the foregoing letter, he was as feelingly alive to whatever regarded eternal concerns. Take an instance of this, in a visit which he paid to another friend. This friend was a minister, who affected great accuracy in his discourses, and who, on that Sunday, had nearly occupied an hour in insisting on several laboured and nice distinctions made in his subject* As he had a high estimation of Mr. N.'s judgment, he inquired of him, as they walked home, whe- ther he thought the distinctions just now in- sisted on were full and judicious ? Mr. N. said he thought them not full, as a very import- ant one had been omitted. — " What can that be ?" said the minister, " for I had taken more »£V. JOHN NEWTON. 16J than ordinary care to enumerate them fully." — N I think not," replied Mr. N. " for when many of your congregation had travelled seve- ral miles for a meal, I think you should not have forgotten the important distinction which must ever exist between meat and bones." In the year 1799, Mr. N. had the honorary degree of D. D. conferred upon him by the uni- versity of New Jersey in America, and the Di- ploma sent him. He also received a work in two volumes, dedicated to him with the above title annexed to his name. Mr. N. wrote the author a grateful acknowledgment for the work, but begged to decline an honour which he never intended to accept. " I am," said he, " as one born out of due time. I have neither the pretension, nor wish to honours of this kind. However, therefore, the university may over-rate my attainments, and thus shew their respect. I must not forget myself; it would be both vain and improper were I to concur in it." But Mr. N. had yet another storm to wea- ther. While we were contemplating the long and rough voyage he had passed, and thought he had only now to rest in a quiet haven, and with a fine sunsetting at the close of the even- ing of his life ; clouds began to gather again., 02 • 462 MEMOIRS OF THE and seemed to threaten a wreck at the very en- try of the port. He used to make excursions in the summer to different friends in the coun- try, endeavouring to make these visits profita- ble to them and their neighbours, by his con- tinual prayers, and the expositions he gave of the scriptures read at their morning and even- ing worship. I have heard of some who were first brought to the knowledge of themselves and of God by attending his exhortations on these occasions ; for, indeed, besides what he undertook in a more stated way at the church, fie seldom entered a room, but something both profitable and entertaining fell from his lips. After the death of Miss Cunningham, and Mrs. N. his companion in these summer excursions was his other niece Miss Elizabeth Catlett. This young lady had also been brought up by Mr. and Mrs. N. with Miss Cunningham, and on the death of the two latter, she became the object of Mr. N.'s naturally affectionate dispo- sition. She also became quite necessary to tlim by her administrations in his latter years ; she watched him, walked with him, visited wherever he went ; when his sight failed, she re^d to him, divided his food, and was unto Mm all that a dutiful daughter could be, REV. JOHN NEWTON. 163 But in the year 1801, a nervous disorder seized her, by which Mr. N. was obliged to submit to her being separated from him. Dur- ing the twelvemonth it lasted, the weight of the affliction added to his weight of years, seemed to overwhelm him. I extracted a f of his reflections on the occasion written on some blank leaves in an edition of his Letters to a Wife, which he lent me on my undertak- ing these memoirs, and have subjoined them in the note (G.) — It may give the reader plea- sure to be informed that Miss Catlett returned home ; gradually recovered ; and afterwards married a worthy man of the name of Smith. It was with a mixture of delight and sur- prise, that the friends and hearers of this emi- nent servant of God beheld him bringing forth such a measure of fruit in extreme age. Though then almost eighty years old, his sight near- ly gone, and incapable, through deafness^ of joining in conversation ; yet his public ministry was regularly continued, and main- tained with a considerable degree of his former animation. His memory, indeed, was observed to fail, but his judgment in divine things still remained; and, though some depression of spirits w r as observed, which he used to account for from his advanced age, his perception; 164. MEMOIRS OF THE taste, and zeal for the truths he had long re- ceived and taught, were evident. Like Simeon, having seen the salvation of the Lord, he now only waited and prayed to depart in peace. After M. N. was turned of eighty, some of his friends feare^ he might continue his public ministrations too long ; they marked not only his infirmities in the pulpit, but felt much on account of the decrease of his strength and of his occasional depressions. Conversing with him in Jan. 1806 on the latter, he observed, that he had experienced nothing which in the least affected the principles he had felt and taught — that his depressions were the natural result of fourscore years, and that, at any age, we can only enjoy that comfort from our prin- ciples which God is pleased to send. " But," replied I, -" in the article of public preaching, might it not be best to consider your work as done, and stop before you evidently discover you can speak no longer ?"— " I cannot stop," said he, raising his voice, — " What, shall the old African blasphemer stop while he can speak?" In every future visit I perceived old age making rapid strides. At length his friends found some difficulty in making themselves known to him : his sight, his hearing, and his REV. JOHN NEWTONT. 165 recollection exceedingly failed ; but, being mercifully kept from pain, he generally appear- ed easy and cheerful. Whatever he uttered was perfectly consistent with the principles he had so long, and so honourably maintained. Calling to see him a few days before he died, with one of his most intimate friends, we could not make him recollect either of us ; but see* ing him afterwards when sitting up in his chair, I found so much intellect remaining, as pro- duced a short and affectionate reply, though he was utterly incapable of conversation. Mr. N. declined in this very gradual way, till at length it was painful to ask him a ques- tion, or attempt to rouse faculties almost gone ; still his friends were anxious to get a word from him, and those friends who survive him will be as anxious to learn the state of his mind in Iris latest hours. — It is quite natural thus to inquire, though it is not important how such a decided character left this world. I have heard Mr. N. say when he has heard par- ticular inquiry made about the last expressions of an eminent believer, " Tell me not how the man died, but how he lived." Still I say it is natural to inquire, and I will meet the desire, (not by trying to expand un- interesting particulars, but) as for as I can col 166 MEMOIRS OF THE lect encouraging faets : and I learn from a pa* per, kindly sent me by his family, all that is interesting and authentic. About a month before Mr. N.'s death, Mr. Smith's niece was sitting by him, to whom he said, " It is a great thing to die ; and when flesh and heart fail, to have God for the strength of our heart, and our portion for ever — I know whom I have believed, and he is able to keep that which I have committed, against that great day. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day." When Mrs. Smith came into the room, he said, " I have been meditating on a subject, c Come, and hear all ye that fear God, and I ' will declare what he hath done for my soul.' v At another time he said, " More light, more love, more liberty — Hereafter I hope when I shut my eyes on the things of time, I shall open them in a better world. What a thing it is to live under the shadow of the wings of the Almighty ! — I am going the way of all flesh." And when one repleid, " The Lord is gra- cious," he answered, " If it were not so, how could I dare to stand before him ?" The Wednesday before he died, Mrs. G— REV. JOHN' NEWTON. 167 asked him, if his mind was comfortable*? he replied, " I am satisfied with the Lord's Will." Mr. N. seemed sensible to his last hour, but expressed nothing remarkable after th< words. He departed on the 21st, and was buried in the vault of his church the 31st oi December 1807, having left the following: injunction in a letter for the direction of his executors* " I propose writing an epitaph for myself, if it may be put up, on a plain, marble tablet, near -the vestry door, to the following purport- 168 MEMOIRS OF THE JOHN NEWTON, Clerk, Once an Infidel and Libertine, A servant of slaves in Africa, Was, by the rich mercy of our Lord and Saviour JESUS CHRIST, Preserved, restored, pardoned, And appointed to preach the Faith He had long laboured to destroy, Near 16 years at Olney in Bucks ; And .... years in this church. On Feb. 1, 1750, he married r MARY, .Daughter of the late George Catlett Of Chatham, Kent. He resigned her to the Lord who gave her On 15th December 1790. And I earnestly desire that no other monu- ment, and no inscription but to this purport, may be attempted for me." The following is a copy of the exordium of Mr. Newton's will, dated June 13, 1803: REV. JOHN NEWTON. 169 il In the name of God, Amen. I John Newton of Coleman Street Buildings in the parish of St. Stephen Coleman Street, in the city of London, Clerk, being through mei in good health, and of sound and disposing mind, memory, and understanding, although in the seventy-eighth year of my age, do for the settling of my temporal concerns, and for the disposal of all the worldly estate which it hath pleased the Lord in his good providence to give me, make this my last Will and Tes- tament as follows. I commit my soul to my gracious God and Saviour, who mercifully spared and preserved me, when I was an Apos- tate, a Blasphemer, and an Infidel, and deliver- ed me from that state of misery on the coast of Africa into which my obstinate wickedness had plunged me ; and who has been pleased to admit me (though most unworthy) to preach his Glorious Gospel. I rely with humble con- fidence upon the atonement, and mediation of the Lord Jesus Christ God and Man, which 1 have often proposed to others as the only foun- dation whereon a sinner can build his hope ; trusting that he will guard and guide mc through the uncertain remainder of my life, and that he will then admit me into his pre- sence in his Heavenly Kingdom. I would 170 MEMOIRS OF THE have my body deposited in the vault under the Parish Church of Saint Mary Woolnoth, close to the coffins of my late dear wife and my dear niece Elizabeth Cunningham ; and it is my de- sire that my funeral may be performed with as little expence as possible, consistent with decency*' 5 . JOHNttEWTO 171 N O T E S, Extracted from Mr. Newton's MS. in cm in- terleaved Copy of his Letters to a Wife, and from Ins Diary. A, p. 79.) First voyage to Africa, 1750. He had written to Mrs. Newton from St. Albans, in which he inserts a prayer for the health of himself and Mrs. N. upon which he says, " This prayer includes all that I at that time knew how to ask for, and had not the Lord given me more than I then knew how to ask or think, I should now be completely miserable. The prospect of this separation was terrible to me as death : to avoid it, I repeatedly purchased a ticket in the lottery, thinking, who knows but I may obtain a considerable prize, and be thereby saved from the necessity of going to sea ? ' k Happy for me, the lot which I then considered as ca- sual, was at thy disposal. The money, which I could not with prudence have spared at the time, was lost ; all my tickets proved blanks, though I attempted to bribe thee by promising, if I succeeded, to give a considerable part to the poor. But these blanks were truly prizes. Thy mercy sent me to sea against my own will. To thy blessing, and to my solitary sea hours, I was indebted for all my temporal comforts, and future hopes. u Thou wert pleased likewise to disappoint me by thy providence of some money which I expected to receive •fl my marriage ; so that, excepting our apparel, when 172 MEMOIRS OF THE 1 sailed from Liverpool on my first voyage, the sum total of my worldly inventory was seventy pounds in debt." (B, p. 79.) I have heard Mr. Newton observe, that as the commander of a slave-ship, he had a number of women under his absolute command : and knowing the danger of his situation on that account, he resolved to abstain from flesh in his food and to drink nothing stronger than water during the voyage ; that by abste- miousness he might subdue every improper emotion ; and that upon his setting sail, the sight of a certain point of land, was the signal for his beginning a rule which he was enabled to keep. (C, p. 82.) Mr. N. had an unexpected call to Lon- don, and on his return, when within a few miles of Li- verpool, he mistook a marle-pit for a pond, and in at- tempting to water his horse, both the horse and the rider plunged in it overhead. He was afterwards told, that near that time, three persons had lost their lives by a mistake of the same kind. (D, p. 90.) Third voyage to Africa, 1754. In a MS. note on a letter from sea, in the above copy, he re-* marks, — " I now enter my 70th year : still Thou art singularly bountiful to me ; still I have reason to think myself favoured as to externals, beyond the common lot of mortals. Thou didst bear me above the removal of her I most valued, to the admiration of all who knew me. The best part of my childhood and youth was vanity and folly ; but before I attained the age of man, I became exceeding vile indeed, and was seated in the REV. JOHN NEWTON. | 173 chair of the scorner in early life. The troubles and mi- series I for a time endured, were my own. I brought them upon myself by forsaking thy good and pleasant paths, and choosing the way of transgressors, which I found very hard ; they led to slavery, contempt, famine, *nd despair. " But my recovery from that dreadful state was whol- ly of thee. Thou didst prepare the means unthought of, and unde sired by me. How nice were the turns up- on which my delivery from Africa depended ! Had the ship passed one quarter of an hour sooner, I had died there a wretch as I had lived. But thou didst pity and hear my first lispings in prayer, at the time the storm fell upon me. Thou didst preserve me from sinking and starving. Thus I returned home, and thou didst provide mt friends when I was destitute, and a stran- ger." (E, p. 130.) " 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 enabled to go to church and hear Mr. F , and the Sunday following, to preach for him. The tender- ness and attention of Dr. aid Mrs. F , with whom we were, I cannot sufficiently describe ; nor, indeed, the kindness of many other friends. To them I would be thankful, my Lord, but especially to Thee ; for what are creatures but instruments in thy hand, fulfilling thy pleasure ? At home all was preserved quiet, and I met with no incident to distress or disturb me while absent. The last fortnight I preached often, and was hurried about in seeing my friends. But though I had little Lei- sure or opportunity for retirement, and my heart, alas, P 2 174 MEMOIRS OF THE as usual, sadly reluctant and dull in secret, yet in public thou wert pleased to favour me with liberty." (F, p. 161.) In another MS. note, dated 15th Decem- ber, 1797, on a letter in the above collection, he writes, " Though I am not so sensibly affected as I could wish, I hope I am truly affected by the frequent reviews I make of my past life. Perhaps the annals of thy church scarcely afford an instance in all respects so singular. Perhaps thy grace may have recovered some from an equal degree of apostacy, infidelity, and profligacy ; but few of them have been redeemed from such a state of misery and depression as I was in, upon the coast of Af- rica, when thy unsought mercy wrought for my deliver- ance : but that such a wretch should not only be spared and pardoned, but reserved to the honour of preaching thy Gospel, which he had blasphemed and renounced, and at length be placed in a very public situation, and favoured with acceptance and usefulness, both from the pulpit and the press ; so that my poor name is known in most parts of the world, where there are any who know thee — this is wonderful indeed ! — The more thou hast exalted me, the more I ought to abase my- self." (G, p. 2. 163.) August 1st, 1801. " I now enter my 77th year. I have been exercised this year with a try- ing and unexpected change : but it is by thy appoint- ment, my gracious Lord ; and thou art unchangeably wise, good, and merciful. Thou gavest me my dear adopted child. 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 the many REV. JOHN NEWTON. 175 years comfort (ten) I have had in her, and for the atten- tion and affection she has always shewn me, exceeding that of most daughters to their own parents. Thou hast now tried me, as thou didst Abraham, in my old age ; when my eyes are failing, and my strength de- clines. Thou hast called for my Isaac, who had so long been my chief stay and staff, but it was thy blessing that made her so. A nervous disorder has seized her, and I desire to leave her under thy care ; and chiefly pray for myself, that I may be enabled to wait thy time and will, without betraying any signs of impatience, or despon- dency unbecoming my profession a.nd character. Hi- therto thou hast helped me; and to thee I look for help in future. Let all issue in thy glory, that my friends and hearers may be encouraged by seeing how I am supported ; let thy strength be manifested in my weak- ness, and thy grace be sufficient for me, and let all final- ly work together for our good, Amen. I aim to say from my heart, not my will, but thine be done. But though thou hast in a measure made my spirit willing, thou knowest, and I feel, that the flesh is weak. Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief. Lord, I submit, sub- due every rebellious thought that dares arise against thy will. Spare my eyes, if it please thee ; but, above all, strengthen my faith and love." 177 REVIEW OF MR. NEWTON'S CHARACTER. The he seems to be little need of giving a gen- eral character of Mr. N. after the particulars which appear in the foregoing Memoirs. He unquestionably was the child of a peculiar pro- vidence in every step of his progress ; and his deep sense of the extraordinary dispensation through which he had passed, was the promU nent topic in his conversation. Those who personally knew the man, could have no doubt of the probity with which his Narrative (sin- gular as it may appear) was written. They however, who could not view the subject of these Memoirs so nearly as his particular friends did, may wish to learn something fur- ther of his character with respect to his literary attainments — his ministry — his family habits— - his writings — and his familiar conversation, 178 MEMOIRS OF THE Of his literature, we learn from his Narra- tive what he attained in the learned languages, and that by almost incredible efforts. Few men have undertaken such difficulties under such disadvantages. It, therefore, seems more extraordinary that he should have attained so much, than that he should not have acquired more. , Nor did he quit his pursuits of this kind, but in order to gain that knowledge which he deemed much more important. What- ever he conceived had a tendency to qualify him, as a scribe well instructed in the kingdom of God, bringing out of his treasury things new and old — I say, in pursuit of this point, he might have adopted the apostle's expres- sion, " One thing I do." By a principle so simply and firmly directed, he furnished his mind with much information : he had consult- ed the best old divines — had read the moderns of reputation with avidity ; and was continually watching whatever might serve for analogies or illustrations, in the service of religion. " A minister," he used to say, " wherever he is, should be always in his study. He should look at every man, and at every thing, as ca pable of affording him some instruction." — His mind, therefore, was ever intent on his calling — ever extracting something, even from REV. JOHN NEWTON. 179 the basest materials, which he could turn i gold. In consequence of this incessant attention to this object, while many (whose early advanta- ges greatly exceeded his) were found excel- ling Mr. N. in the knowledge and investiga- tion of some curious, abstract, but very unim- portant points ; he was found vastly excelling them in points of infinitely higher importance to man. — In the knowledge of God, of hi§ word, and of the human heart in its wants and resources, Newton would have stood among mere scholars, as his name-sake the philosopher stood in science among ordinary men. I might say the same of some others who have set out late in the profession, but who, with a portion of Mr. N.'s piety and ardour, have greatly out- stripped those who have had every early ad- vantage and encouragement : — men with spe- cious titles and high connexions have received the rewards ; while men, like Newton, with- out them, have done the work. With respect to his ministry, he appeared, perhaps, to least advantage in the pulpit ; as he did not generally aim at accuracy, in the Composition of his sermons, nor at any address in the delivery of them. His utterance was ■far from clear, and his attitudes ungraceful. 180 MEMOIRS OF THE He possessed, however, so much affection for F his people, and zeal for their best interests, that the defect of his manner was of little con- sideration with his constant hearers : at the same time, his capacity and habit of entering into their trials and experience, gave the high- est interest to his ministry among them. Be- sides which, he frequently interspersed the most brilliant allusions, and brought for- ward such happy illustrations of his subject, and those with so much unction on his own heart, as melted and enlarged theirs. The parent- like tenderness and affection which ac- companied his instruction, made them prefer him to preachers who, on other accounts, were much more generally popular. It ought also to be noted, that, amidst the extravagant no- tions and unscriptural positions which have sometimes disgraced the religious world, Mr. N. never departed, in any instance, from soundly and seriously promulgating the faith once delivered to the saints, of which his writ- ings will remain the best evidence. His doc- trine was strictly that of the church of Eng- land, urged on the consciences of men in the most practical and experimental manner. " I hope," said he one day to me, smiling, " I hope I am upon the whole a scriptural preach- REV. JOHN NEWTON. 18 J er ; for I find I am considered as an Arminian among the high Calvinists, and as a Calvinisi among the strenuous Arminians." I never observed any thing like bigotry in his ministerial character, though he seemed at all times to appreciate the beauty of order, and its good effects in the ministry. He had for merly been intimately connected with some highly respectable ministers among the dis- senters, and retained a cordial regard for many to the last. He considered the strong preju- dices which attach to both churchmen and dis senters, arising more from education than from principle. But, being himself both a clergy- man arid an incumbent in the church of Eng- land, he wished to be consistent. In publio, therefore, he felt he could not act with some ministers, whom he thought truly good men, and to whom he cordially wished success ia their endeavours ; and he patiently met the consequence. They called him a bigot, and he in return prayed for them, that they might not be really such. He had formerly taken much pains in com- posing his sermons, as I could perceive in one MS. which I looked through ; and even latter- ly, I have known him, whenever he felt it ne- cessary, produce admirable plans for the pui Q 182 MEMOIRS OF THE pit. I own I thought his judgment deficient in not deeming such preparation necessary at all times. I have sat in pain when he has spo- ken unguardedly in this way before young ministers ; men who, with but comparatively slight degrees of his information and experi- ence, would draw encouragement to ascend the pulpit with but little previous study of their subject. A minister is not to be blamed, who cannot rise to qualifications which some of his brethren have attained ; but he is certainly bound to improve his own talent to the utmost of his power : he is not to cover his sloth, his love of company, or his disposition to attend a wealthy patron, with the pretence of depending entirely on divine influence. Timothy had at least as good ground for expecting such influ- ence, as any of his successors in the ministry ; and yet the apostle admonishes him to give at- tendance to reading, to exhortation, and t$ doctrine — to neglect not the gift that was ift him — to meditate upon these things — to give himself wholly to them, that his profiting might appear to all. Mr. N. regularly preached on the Sunday morning and evening at St. Mary Woolnoth, and also on the Wednesday morning. After he was turned of seventy he often undertook REV, JOHN NEWTON. 183 r to assist other clergymen ; sometimes, even to the preaching six sermons in the space of a week. What was more extraordinary, he con- tinued his usual course of preaching at his own church after hf bursccftre years old, and that, when he could no longer see to i\ his text ! His memory and voice sometimes failed him, but it was remarked, that, at this great age, he was no where more recollected or lively than in the pulpit. He was punctual as to time with his congregation; and preached every first Sunday evening in the month on relative duties. Mr. Alderman Lea regularly sent his carriage to convey him to civ n oh, and Mr. Bates sent his servant to attend him in the pulpit ; which friendly assistance was continu- ed till Mr. N. could appear no longer in pub- lic. His ministerial visits were exemplary. I do not recollect one, though favoured wkh many, in which his general information and lively genius did not communicate instruction, and his affectionate and condescending sympathy did not leave comfort. Truth demands it should be said, that he did not always administer consolation, nor give an account of characters, with sufficient discrimination. His talent did not lie in dis- 184 MEMOIRS OF THE cerning of spirits. I never saw him so much moved as when any friend endeavoured to cor- rect his errors in this respect. His credulity seemed to arise from the consciousness he had of his own integrity, and from that sort of pa- rental fondness which he bore to all his friends, real or pretended. I knew one, since dead, whom he thus described, while living — " He is certainly an old man, and has his failings ; but he has great integrity, and I hope is going to heaven." Whereas almost all who knew him thought the man should go first into the pillory ! In his family Mr. N. might be admired more safely, than imitated. His excessive at- tachment to Mrs. N. is so fully displayed in his Narrative, and confirmed in the two volumes he thought it proper to publish, entitled, Let- ters to a Wife, that the reader will need no in- formation on this subject. — Some of his friends wished this violent attachment had been cast more into the shade, as tending to furnish a spur, where human nature generally needs a curb. He used, indeed, to speak of such at- tachments in the abstract, as idolatry ; though his own was providentially ordered to be the main hinge on which his preservation and de- liverance turned, while in his worst state. REV. JOHN NEWTON. 185 Good men, however, cannot be too cautious how they give sanction by their expressions or example, to a passion which, when not under sober regulation, has overwhelmed not only families, but states, with disgrace and ruin. With this unusual degree of benevolence and affection, it was not extraordinary that the spiritual interests of his servants were brought forward, and examined severally every Sunday afternoon ; and that being treated like children, they should grow old in his service. In short, Mr. N. could live no longer than he could love ; it is no wonder, therefore, if his nieces had more of his heart than is generally afford- ed to. their own children by the fondest parents. It has already been mentioned that his house was an asylum for the perplexed or afflicted. — Young Ministers were peculiarly the objects of his attention : he instructed them, he encou- raged them, he warned them ; and might truly be said to be a father in Christ, spending and being spent, for the interest of his Church. In order thus to execute the various avocations ©f the day, he used to rise early ; he seldom was found abroad in the evening, and was ex- act in his appointments. Of his writings, I think little need be said Rere ; they are in wide circulation, and best Q2 JBG MEMOIRS OF THE i speak for themselves. An able editor is now- employed in adding some posthumous pieces, left for publication by the author. After which, the whole will appear in a complete set, with a reduced copy of the admirable portrait of Mr. N. lately published by Mr. Smith, engraved by J. Collyer A. R. A. from an original paint- ing of J. Russell R. A. This w^as the only reason why no portrait was published with these Memoirs, as had been done in the Me- moirs of the Hon. and Rev. Mr. Cadogan, and of John Bacon, Esq. — I hope to see a fuller and ^more accurate account of these writings published by the editor, should the executors deem it necessary. At present, therefore, what I shall observe upon them will be but * general and cursory. The Sermons Mr. N. published at Liverpool, after being refused on his first application for orders, were intended to shew what he would have preached, had he been admitted ; they are highly creditable to his understanding and to. his heart. The faci- lity with which he attained so much of the learned languages seems partly accounted for, from his being able to acquire so early, a neat and natural style in his own language, and that vmder such evident disadvantages. His Re- view of ecclesiastical History, so far as it pro- REV- JOHN XEWTOX. 187 ceeded, has been much esteemed ; and, if it had done no more than excite the Rev. J. Mil- ner (as that most valuable and instructive au- thor informs us it did) to pursue Mr. N.\s i more largely, it was sufficient success. Before this, the world seems to have lost sight of a his- tory of real Christianity, and to have been con- tent with what, for the most part, was but an account of the ambition and politics of secular men, assuming the Christian name. It must be evident to any one who observes the spirit of all his sermons, hymns, tracts, &x. that nothing is aimed at which should be met by critical investigation. In the preface to his hymns, he remarks, " Though I would not offend readers of taste by a wilful coarseness and negligence, I do not write professedly for them. — I have simply declared my own views and feelings, as I might have done if I had composed hymns in some of the newly disco- vered islands in the South Sea, where no per- son had any knowledge of the name of Jesus but myself." To dwell, therefore, witk a critical eye on this part of his public character would be ab- surd and impertinent, and to erect a tribunal to which he seems not amenable. He appears to have paid no regard to a nice ear, or an ac- 188 MEMOIRS OF THE curate reviewer ; but, preferring a style at once neat and perspicuous, to have laid out himself entirely for the service of the church of God, and more especially for the tried and expe- rienced part of its members. His chief excellence seemed to lie in the ea- sy and natural style of his epistolary corres- pondence. His letters will be read while real religion exists ; and they are the best draught of his own mind. He had so largely communicated with his friends in this way, that I have heard him say, " He thought, if his letters were collected, they would make several folios." He selected many of these for publication, and expressed a hope that no other person would take that li- berty with the rest, winch were so widely spread abroad. In this, however, he was dis- appointed and grieved, as he once remarked to me ; and for which reason I do not annex any letters that I received from him. He esteem- ed that collection published under the title of Cardiphonia as the most useful of his writings, and mentioned various instances of the benefits which he heard they had conveyed to many. His Apologia, or defence of conformity, was written on occasion of some reflections HEV. JOHN NEWTON. 183 (perhaps only jocular) cast on him at that time. — His letters to a wife, written during his three voyages to Africa, and published 1793, have been received with less satisfaction than most of his other writings. While, however, his advanced age and inordinate fondness may be pleaded for this publication, care should be taken lest men fall into a contrary extreme ; and suppose that temper to be their wisdom, which leads them to avoid another, which they consider as his weakness. But his Messiah before mentioned, his letters of the Rev. Mr. Vanlier, chaplain at the Cape — his memoirs of the Rev. John Cowper (brother to the poet,) and those of the Rev. Mr. Grimshaw of York- shire, together with his single sermons and tracts, have been well received, and will re- main a public benefit. I recollect reading a MS. which Mr. N. lent me, containing a correspondence, that had passed between himself and the Rev. Dr. Dix- on, Principal of St. Edmund Hall, Oxford ; and another MS. of a correspondence between him and the late Rev. Martin Madan. They would have been very interesting to the pub- lic, particularly the latter, and w r ere striking evidences of Mr. N.'s humility, piety and faith- 190 MEMOIRS OF THE fulness ; but reasons of delicacy led him to commit the whole to the flames. To speak of his writings in the mass, they certainly possess what many have aimed at, but very few attained, namely originality. They are the language of the heart ; they shew a deep experience of its religious feelings, a continual anxiety to sympathise with man in his w r ants, and to direct him to his only re- sources. His conversation, and familiar habits with his friends, were more peculiar, amusing, and instructive, than any I ever witnessed. It is difficult to convey a clear idea of them by de- scription. I venture, therefore, to add a few pages of what I may call his table-talk, which I took down at different times, both in compa- ny and in private, from his lips. Such a col- lection of printed remarks will not have so much point, as when spoken in connexion with the occasion that produced them : they must appear to considerable disadvantage thus detached, and candid allowance should be made by the reader on this account. They, however, who had the privilege of Mr. N.'s conversation when living, cannot but recog- nise the speaker in most of them, and derive REV. JOHN NEWTON. J V I both profit and pleasure from these remains of their late valuable friend ; and such as had not, will (if I do not mistake) think them the most valuable part of this book. 193 REMARKS MADE BY MR. NEWTON, In familiar conversation. " While the mariner uses the loadstone, the philosopher may attempt to investigate the cause ; but after all, in steering through the ocean, he can make no other use of it than the mariner." " If an angel were sent to find the most per- fect man, he would probably not find him com- posing a body of divinity, but perhaps a crip^ pie in a poor-house, whom the parish wi£b. dead, and humbled before God with far lowea; thoughts of himself than others think of hira.*^ u When a Christian goes into the worl^ bedause he sees it is his call, yet, while he fet3^ it also his cross, it will not lulrt him." R 194 MEMOIRS OF THE " Satan will seldom come to a Christian with a gross temptation : a green log and a Candle may be safely left together ; but bring a few shavings, then some small sticks, and then larger, andyou may soon bring the green log to ashes." " If two angels came down from heaven to execute a divine command, and one was ap- pointed to conduct an empire, and the other to sweep a street in it, they would feel no incli- nation to choose employments. " " The post of honour in an army, is not with the baggage, nor with the women." " What some call providential openings are often powerful temptations ; the heart in wan- dering, cries, Here is a way opened before me, but, perhaps, not to be trodden, but rejected." " Young people many as others study navi- gation, by the fire- side. If they many unsuit- ably, they can scarcely bring things to rule, but like sailors they must sail as near the wind as they can. I feel myself like a traveller with his wife in his chaise and one ; if the ground is smooth, and she keep the right pace, and is REV. JOHN NEWTON. i ( J5 willing to deliver the reins when 1 ask for them, I am always willing to let her drive." " I should have thought mowers very idle people ; but they work while they whet their scythes. Now devotedness to God, whether it mows or whets the scythe, still goes on with the work." t; A Christian should never plead spirituality for being a sloven ; if he be but a shoe-clean- er, he should be the best in the parish." " In choosing my text, I feel myself like a servant to whom a key has been given which opens a particular drawer, but who has not the bunch of keys which open all the draw r - ers. I therefore expect to be helped to only one text at a time." " My course of study, like that of a sur- geon, has principally consisted in walking the hospital." " In divinity, as well as in the other profes- sions, there are the little artists. A man may be able to execute the buttons of a statue very neatly, but I could not call him an able artist * y 6 MEMOIRS OP THE There is an air, there is a taste, to which his narrow capacity cannot reach.— Now in the church, there are your dextrous button-ma- kers." " My principal method of defeating heresy. is by establishing truth— One proposes to fill a bushel with tares, now if I can fill it first With wheat, I shall defy his attempts." «*When some people talk of religion, they mean they have heard so many sermons, and performed so many devotions, and thus mis- take the means for the end. But true religion is an habitual recollection of God and intention to serve him, and this turns every thing into gold. We are apt to suppose that we need something splendid to evince our devotion, but true devotion equals things — washing plates, and cleaning shoes, is a high office, if performed in a right spirit. — If three angels were sent to earth, they would feel perfect in- difference who should perform the part of prime-minister, parish-minister, or watch- man." " When a ship goes to sea, among a vast variety of its articles and circumstances there REV. JOHN NEWTON. 197 is but one object regarded, namely, doing the business of the voyage : every bucket is em- ployed with respect to that." " Many have puzzled themselves about the origin of evil : I observe there is evil, and that there is a way to escape it, and with this I beofm and end." " Consecrated things under the law were first sprinkled with blood, and then anointed with oil, and thenceforward were no more common. Thus under the Gospel, every Christian has been a common vessel for pro- fane purposes ; but when sprinkled and anoint- ed, he becomes separated and consecrated to God." " I would not give a straw for that assu- rance which sin will not damp. If David had come from his adultery, and had talked of his assurance at that time, I should have despised his speech." " A spirit of adoption is the spirit of a child; he may disoblige his father, yet he is not afraid of being turned out of doors. The union is not dissolved, though the communion R 2 198 MEMOIRS OF THE is. He is not well with his father, therefore must be unhappy, as their interests are insepa- rable/' " We often seek to apply cordials when the patient is not prepared for them, and it is the patient's advantage that he*cannot take a medi- cine when prematurely offered. When a man comes to me, and says, ' I am quite happy, 9 I am not sorry to find him come again with some fears. — I never saw a work stand well without a check,. 4 I only want,' says one, 1 to be sure of being safe, and then I will go on.'— No; perhaps, then you will go off.' " " For an old Christian to say to a young one, ' Stand in my evidence,' is like a man who has with difficulty climbed by a ladder or scaffolding to the top of the house, and cries to one at the bottom, < This is the place for a prospect, — come up at a step. 5 5J " A Christian, like a miser, will ask the price of his pleasures : the miser has no ob- jection to go to Brighton, but always asks what it will cost ? The miser, indeed, has this ad- vantage, that he is always in the same frame,*' REV. JOHN NEWTON. 199 4v A Christian in the world, is like a man who has a long intimacy with one whom at length he finds out was the murderer of a kind father; the intimacy, after this, will surely be broken." • " Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God. — A man may live in a deep mine in Hungary, never having seen the light of the sun ; he may have received ac- counts of prospects, and by the help of a can- die, may have examined a few engravings of them ; but let him be brought out of the mine, and set on the mountain — what a difference ap- pears !" " In our fallen state, we are a sort of sole- cism in the universe ; other animals are faith- ful to their instincts, lambs do not wish to swim, nor fish to feed in a meadow : if the sun were a rational creature, he would delight to shine, otherwise he ought to be extinguish- ed." u Candour will always allow much for inex- perience. I have been thirty years forming my own views, and in the course of this time, some of my hills have been sinking, and some of 200 MEMOIRS OF THE my vallies have risen ; but how unreasonable would it be to expect all this should take place in another person, and that in the course of a year or two." " Candour forbids us to estimate a charac- ter from its accidental blots. Yet it is thus that David, and others, have been treated." " Apollos met with two candid people in the chur«h; they neither ran away because he was legal, nor were carried away because he was eloquent." " There is the analogy of faith ; it is a mas- ter key, which not only opens particular doors, but carries you through the whole house ; but an attachment to a rigid system is dangerous. — Luther once turned out the Epistle of St. James, because it disturbed his system. Dr. Owen will be ashamed of his wisdom and clearness five minutes after he has been in hea- ven. I shall preach, perhaps, very usefully upon two opposite texts, while kept apart ; but if I attempt nicely to reconcile them, it is ten to one if I don't begin to bungle. " I can conceive a living man without an an$ REV. JOHxNT NEWTON". 201 or a leg, but not without a head or a heart : so there are some truths essential to vital religion, and whieh all awakened souls are taught." " Apostasy, in all its branehes, takes its rise from atheism. I have set the Lord always before me,'&c. The doctrine of omnipresence is universally allowed." " We arc surprised at the fall of a famous professor, but in the sight of God, the man was gone before ; it is only w r e that have now first discovered it. He that despiseth small things, shall fall by little and little." " There are critical times of danger. After great services, honours, and consolations, wc should stand upon our guard. Noah — Lot — David — Solomon, fell in these circumstances. Satan is a footpad : a footpad will not attack a man in going to the Bank, but in returning with his pocket full of money." " A Christian is like a young nobleman who, on going to receive his estate, is at first en- chanted with its prospects ; this in a course of time may w r ear off, but a sense of the value of the estate grows daily." 202 MEMOIRS OF THE " When we first enter into the divine life, we propose to grow rich ; God's plan is to make us feel poor." " Good men have need to take heed of build- ing upon groundless impressions. Mr. Whit- field had a son, which he imagined was born to be a very extraordinary man : but the son soon died, and the father was cured of his mis- take." " I remember, in going to undertake the care of a congregation, I was reading as I walk- ed in a green lane * Fear not, Paul, I have much people in this city.' But I was soon afterwards was disappointed in finding that Paul was not John, and that Corinth was not Warwick." " Christ has taken our nature in heaven, to represent us ; and has left us on earth, with his nature, to represent him." " Worldly men will be true to their princi- ples ; and if we were as true to ours, the visits between the two parties would be short and seldom." REV. JOHN NEWTON. 205 " A Christian in the world, is like a man transacting his affairs in the rain. He will not suddenly leave his client, because it rains ; but the moment the business is done, helis off: as it is said in the Acts, i Being let go, they went to their own company.' " " When a man is joined to Christ, Christ says to him as it was once said to the Levite, * Let all thy wants lie upon me, only abide not in the street.' " " God's word is certainly a restraint ; but it is such a restraint as the irons which prevent children from getting into the fire." " The Scriptures are so full, that every case may be found in them. — A rake went into a church, and tried to decoy a girl by saying, c Why do you attend to such stuff as these Scriptures?' — ' Because,' said she, « they tell me that in the last days there shall come such scoffers as you.' " " God deals with us as we do with our chil- dren: he first speaks, then gives a gentle stroke, at last a blow," 204 MEMOIRS OF THE u The religion of a sinner stands on two pil- lars ; namely, what Christ did for us in his flesh, and what he performs in us by his spirit. Most errors arise from an attempt to separate these two." " We blame an Arminian for his want of submission to divine sovereignty ; yet let a shower of rain fall on a suit of new clothes, and we cannot submit ourselves." " Man is not taught any thing to purpose till God becomes his teacher, and then the glare of the world is put out, and the value of the soul rises in full view. A man's present sentiments may not be accurate, but we make too much of sentiments. We pass a field with a few blades — we call it a field of wheat ; but here is no wheat — no, not in perfection, but wheat is sown, and full ears may be expected." " The word temperance in the New Testa- ment, signifies self-possession ; it is a disposi- tion suitable to one who has a race to run, and therefore will not load his pockets with lead. 5 ' " One reason why we must not attempt to pull up the tares which grow among the wheat, REV. JOHN" NEWTON. 205 is, that we have not skill for the work : li\ Weeder whom Mrs. N. employed in my g den at OIney, who for weeds pulled up some of Mrs. N.'s favourite flowers." iX Contrivers of systems on the earth, are like contrivers of systems in the heavens j where the sun and moon keep the same course., in spite of the philosophers." " I endeavour to walk through the w r orld as a physician goes through Bedlam : the patients make a noise, pester him with impertinence,, and hinder him in his business ; but he does the best he can, and so gets through." " A man always in society, is one always on the spend ; on the other hand, a mere solitary., is at his best but a candle in an empty room. v " If we were upon the watch for improve ment, the common news of the day would fur* nish it : the falling of the tower in Siloam, antf! the slaughter of the Gallileans, w r ere the news of the day ; which our Lord improved." " The generality make out their righteous ness, by comparing themselves with souk others whom they think worse ; thus a woman S 206 MEMOIRS OF THE of the town who was rotting in the Lock Hos- pital, was offended at a minister speaking to her as a sinner, because she had never picked a pocket. 5 ' " Take toy from a child and give him smother, and he is satisfied ; but if he be hungry, no toy will do. Thus, as new-born babes, true believers desire the sincere milk of the word, and the desire of grace, in this way, is grace." One said that the great saints in the calendar Were many of them poor sinners ; Mr. N. re- plied, they were poor saints indeed, if they did not feel that they were great sinners. " A wise man looks upon men as he does tipon horses, and considers their caparisons of title, wealth, and place, but as harness." " The force of what we deliver from the pulpit, is often lost by a starched, and what is often called a correct style, and especially by adding meretricious ornaments. I called upon a lady who had been robbed, and she gave me a striking account "of the fact ; but had she put it in heroics, I should neither so well have un- REV. JOHN NEWTON. 307 derstood her, nor been so well convinced that she had been robbed." i: When a man says he received a blessing under a sermon, I begin to inquire who this man is that speaks of the help he has received ? The Roman people proved the effect they re- ceived under a sermon of Antony, when they flew to avenge the death of Caesar." " The Lord has reasons far beyond our ken, for opening a wide door, while he stops the mouth of a useful preacher. — John Bunyan would not have done half the good he did, if he had remained preaching in Bedford, instead of being shut up in Bedford prison." " If I could go to France, and give every man in it a right and peaceable mind by my labour, I should have a statue ; but to produce such an effect in the conversion of one soul, would be a far greater achievement." " Ministers would over-rate their labours, if they did not think it worth while to be born, and spend ten thousand years in labour and contempt, to recover one soul." " Doivt tell me of your feelings* A travel 208 MEMOIRS OF THE ler would be glad of fine weather, but if he be a man of business, he will go on. — Bunyan says, you must not judge of a man's haste by his horse; for when the horse can hardly move, you may see by the rider's urging him, what a hurry he is in." " A man and a beast may stand upon the same mountain, and even touch one another, yet they are in two different worlds : the beast perceives nothing but the grass, but the man contemplates the prospect, and thinks of a thousand remote things. — Thus a Christian may be solitary at a full exchange ; he can con- verse with the people there upon trade, poli- tics, and the stocks ; but they cannot talk with him upon the peace of God which passeth all understanding." " Love and fear are like the sun and moon, seldom seen together." " Two men go into a wood with their guns, and one fires as often as the other ; but one kills a great quantity of game, because he fires with shot. Some, like Zaccheus, think they sit very snug in a corner, and are brought down much before they expect it." REV. JOHN NEWT OX. [ dreamt one night that I saw Matthew Henry lie open at this text, 4 Let your wo~ men keep silence in the churches/ and thought I read the following note at bottom. * Note. We see the reason why women are forbid to preach the Gospel, for they would persuade without argument, and reprove with- out giving offence.' " u It is a mere fallacy to talk of the sins of .a short life. The sinner is always a sinner. — Put a pump into a river, you may throw out- some water, but the river remains." " Professors who own the doctrines of free grace, often act inconsistent with their owp principle when they are angry at the defects of others. — A company of travellers fall into. a pit, one of them gets a passenger to draw hijn out: now he should not be angry with the rest for falling in, nor because they are not yet cmt, as he is. He did not pull himself out ; instead, therefore, of reproaching them, lie should shew^ them pity ; he should avoid at any rate going down upon their ground again, and shew how much better and happier he is upon his own. — We should take care that we do not make ©ur profession of religion a receipt in full for S2 210 MEMOIRS OF THE all other obligations. A man, truly illumina- ted, will no more despise others, than Barti- meus, after his own eyes were opened, would take a stick, and beat every blind man he met." " We are much mistaken in supposing that the removal of a particular obstruction, would satisfy the objector. — Suppose I am in bed, and want to know whether it be light, it is not enough if I draw the curtain ; for if there be tight, I must have eyes to see it." " Too deep a consideration of eternal reali- ties, might unfit a man for his present circum- stances. — Walking through Saint Bartholo- mew's Hospital or Bedlam must deeply af- fect a feeling mind, but in reality this world is a far worse scene; it has but two wards, in the one men are miserable, in the other mad." " Some preachers near Olney dwelt on the doctrine of predestination ; an old woman said — i Ah ! I have long settled that point, for if God had not chosen me before I was born, I am sure he would have seen nothing in me to have chosen me for afterwards.' " REV. JOHK NEWTOX* 21^ " Law has swept away Warburton's cob- web, with a single brush. — Abel pleased God, but Cain killed him ; therefore, it was a dan- gerous thing to please God, if there were n© future state." " I see the unprofitableness of controversy in the case of Job and his friends ; for if God had not interposed, had they lived to this day., they would have continued to dispute." " It is pure mercy that negatives a particu- lar request. — A miser would pray very ear- nestly for gold, if he believed prayer would gain it ; w r hereas, if Christ had any favour to him, he w r ould take his gold away. — A child walks in the garden in Spring, and sees cher- ries ; he knows they are good fruit, and there- fore asks for them. ' No, my dear/ says the father, ' they are not yet ripe: — Stay till the season.' " " If I cannot take pleasure in infirmities, I can sometimes feel the profit of them. — I can conceive a king to pardon a rebel, and take him into his family, and then say, ' I appoint you for a season to wear a fetter. At a cer- tain season I will send a messenger to knock 212 MEMOIRS 02? THE it off. In the mean time this fetter will serve to remind you of your state ; it may humble you,. and restrain you from rambling.' " " Some Christians, at a glance, seem of a su- periour order, and are not ; they want a certain quality. — At a florist's feast the other day, a a certain flower was determined to bear the bell, but it was found to be an artificial flower: there is a quality called growth which it had not." " Doctor Taylor of Norwich said to me, 4 Sir, I have collated every word in the Hebrew Scriptures seventeen times ; and it is very strange if the doctrine of atonement you hold, should not have been found by me.' — I am not surprised at this : I once went to light my candle with the extinguisher on it : now, preju- dices from education, learning, &c. often form an extinguisher.- — It is not enough that you bring the candle, you must remove the extin- guisher." " I measure ministers by square measure. I have no idea of the size of a table, if you only tell me how long it is ; but if you also say how wide, I can tell its dimensions. — So when you tell me what a man is in the pulpit, you must REV. JOHN NEWTON. 213 also tell me what he is out of it, or I shall not know his size." " If Nebuchadnezzar's image was of solid gold, and every worshipper was to have a bit of it, I fear our nation as well as his, would be dy to fall down before it." " There were two sorts of Calvinists at Ol- ney, and they always reminded me of the two baskets of Jeremiah's figs." " A man should be born to high things not to lose himself in them. — Slaters will walk on the ridge of an house with ease, which would turn our heads." " Much depends on the way we come into trouble. — Paul and Jonah were both in a storm, but in very different circumstances." " I have read of many wicked Popes, but the worst Pope I ever met with is Pope Self." " The men of this world are children. — Of- fer a child an apple and a bank-note, he will doubtless choose the apple." 214 MEMOIRS OF THE 9 A pious gentlewoman told me of her pot- tery being burnt. ' I congratulate you, Ma- dam, 5 said I, ' in possessing something you cannot lose.' " H The heir of a great estate, while a child, thinks more of a few shillings in his pocket than of his inheritance. — So a Christian is of- ten more elated by some frame of heart, than by his title to glory.' ' " A dutiful child is ever looking forward to the holidays, when he shall return to his father; but he does not think of running from school before, " " The Gospel is a proclamation of free mer. cy to guilty creatures — an act of grace to re- bels. Now, though a rebel should throw away his pistols, and determine to go into the woods, and make his mind better before he goes to court and pleads the act; he may, indeed, not be found in arms, yet being taken in his re- forming scheme, he will be hanged." " The devil told a lie when he said, ' All these things are mine, and to whomsoever I will I give them ; for if he had the disposal of REV. JOHN NEWTON. preferments, since he knows the effect of them. you and I, brother C , should soon be dig nitaries." " Man is made capable of three births — b} nature he enters the present world — by grace into spiritual light and life — by death into glo " In my imagination, I sometimes fancy 1 could make a perfect minister. I take the elo quence of , the knowledge of , the zeal of , and the pastoral meekness, ten- derness and piety of ; then putting them all together into one man, I say to myself, this would be a perfect minister. Now there is one who, if he chose it, could actually do this,, but he never did — he has seen fit to do otf w r ise, and to divide these "gifts to even' man severally as -he will." " I feel like a man who has no money in his pocket, but is allowed to draw for all he wants upon one infinitely rich : I am, therefore, at once both a beggar and a rich man." " I went one day to Mrs. G 's just af- ter she had lost all her fortune ; I could not ht 316 MEMOIRS OF THE surprised to find her in tears, but she said, ' I suppose you think I am crying for my loss, but that is not the case ; I am now weeping to think I should feel so much uneasiness on the accout. 5 After that, I never heard her speak again upon the subject as long as she lived. — Why now this is just as it should be. — Suppose a man was going to York to take possession of a large estate, and his chaise should break down a mile before he got to the* city, which obliged him to walk the rest of the way ; what a fool we should think him if we saw him wringing his hands, and blubbering out all the remaining mile, ' My chaise is broken !' ' My chaise is broken !'" " I have many books that I cannot sit down to read ; they are, indeed, good and sound ; but, like halfpence, there goes a great quantity to a little amount : there are silver books, and, a very few golden books, but I have one book worth more than all, called the Bible ; and that is a book of bank-notes." J conclude these remarks, not because my memorandum-book is exhausted, but lest R E \ the reader should think I forget th< ma am, tie quid nimis. No undue liberty, however, h been taken in publishing Mr. N.'s private con- versation, since all the above remarks were submitted to him as intended for this publica- tion, and were approved. T b 219 GENERAL OBSERVATIONS. The difference of mental improvement among men, seems very much to depend on their ca- pacity and habit of gathering instruction from the objects which are continually presented to their observation. Two men behold the same fact; one of them is in the habit of drawing such remarks and inferences as the fact affords, and learns something from every thing he sees ; while the other sees the same fact, and per- haps, with a momentary admiration, but lets it pass without making so much as one profitable reflection on the occasion. — The excursions of the bee and the butterfly, present an exact em- blem of these two characters. I have present to my mind an acquaintance, who has seen more of the outside of the world than most men ; he has lived in most countries of the civilized world, yet I scarcely know a man of a less improved mind. With every external advantage, he has learned nothing to any useful purpose he seems to have passed from flower to flower without extracting a drop of honey ; and now, he tires all his friends MEMOIRS OP THE with the frivolous garrulity of a capricious, vacant, and petulant old age. I wish the reader of these Memoirs may avoid such an error, in passing over the history here laid before him. An extraordinary train of facts is presented to his observation ; and if " the proper study of mankind is man," the history before us, will surely furnish im- portant matter of the kind, to the eye of ever} wise, moral traveller. I would here call the attention of three class- es of men to a single point of prime impor- tance, namely, to the efficacy and excel- lency of real Christianity as exhibited in the principles and practice of the subject of these Memoirs. I. Suppose the reader to be so unhappy (though his misfortune may be least perceived by himself) as to be led astray by bad society, in conjunction with an evil heart of unbelief. I will suppose him to be now in the state in which Mr. N. describes himself formerly to have been, and in which also the writer of these Memoirs once was. I will suppose him to be given up to believe his own lie ; and that he may be in the habit of thinking that God, when he made man, left him to find his way without any express revelation of the mind and will of his Maker and Governor, or at XEV. JOHN NEWTON. most that he is left to the only rule in morals which nature may be supposed to present. — What that way is, which such a thinker will take, is sufficiently evident from the general course and habits of unbelievers. But there is a conscience in man. Conscience in sober moments, often alarm sthe most stout-hearted. When such an unbeliever meets an overwhelm- ing providence, or lies on a death-bed, he will probably awake to a strong sense of his real condition. He will feel, if not very hardened indeed, in what a forlorn, unprovided, and dan- gerous state he exists ; life is the moment in which only this sceptical presumption can con- tinue, and when it is terminating, where is he to set the sole of his foot ? He wildly contem- plates the book of nature, in which he may have been persuaded that man may read all he needs to know ; but the forlorn outcast sees nothing there to meet his case as a sinner. In- finite power, wisdom, contrivance, general pro- vision alone appear ; but nothing of that fur- ther and distinct information which a dying offender needs. He wants footing, and finds none. He needs the hand of a friend to grasp, but none is seen. Possibilities shock his ap- prehension. He may, perhaps, discern that the present system has a moral government. T2 222 MEMOIRS OF THE which frowns upon guilt ; and for aught he knows to the contrary, the next scene may pre- sent a judge upon his throne of justice, ---this world, his present idol, vanished like smoke, and quick and dead called to give their ac- count. Where then is he ?— an atom of guilt and wretchedness. All this I say may be, for aught he knows to the contrary. But the ex - press and well-authenticated revelation which that Judge hath sent to man, tells us plainly that all this shall be, and that every eye shall behold it ! " Be it so," such a reader may reply, " still I am what I am. My habits of thinking are fixed ; and I perceive my habits of life can on- ly be decently borne out by my profession of unbelief. Both are now inveterate. Nor do I see, all things considered, what can be done in my case. How can I adopt the Christian revelation ? — and what could it do for me if I could ?" I answer by calling your attention to the fact before us. What was the case of John Newton ? Could any one be more deeply sunk in de- pravity, in profligacy, in infidelity than he ? Can you even conceive a rational creature more degraded, or more hardened in his evil habits ? Would you attempt to recover such REV. JOHN NEWTON. N 22) a mind by arguments drawn from the advan- tage which virtue has over vice ? or by rous- ing his attention to the duties of natural reli- gion ? or the possible consequences of a fu- ture retribution ? He would have gone on thinking he had made the most of his circum- stances, in his practice of catching fish, and eating them almost raw. ---He w 7 ould sullenly have proceeded to sleep through the drying of his one shirt which he had just washed on the rock, and pat on wet. — He would, with a sa- vage ferocity, have watched an opportunity for murdering his master. — He would have drowned all reflection in a drunken revel, and overwhelmed all remonstrance, by belching out new- invented blasphemies ; and then sought to rush headlong, in a drunken parox- ysm, into the ocean. * Here is certainly presented the utmost pitch of a depraved and a degraded nature, nor does it seem possible for Satan to carry his point further with a man — except in one single in* stance, namely, by the final disbelief of a re- medy. Now by God's help this divine remedy was applied, and its efficacy demonstrated, of * Sec these Memoirs, pages 27, 37, 40, 47, 5 1 . 224 MEMOIRS OF THE which there are thousands of living witnesses. A plain matter of fact is before us. It pleased God by a train of dispensations, that this pro- digal should come to himself. — He is made to feel his wants and misery. He follows the light shining in a dark place. He calls for help. He is made willing to follow his guide. He proceeds with implicit confidence, and now let us examine to what, at length, he is brought; and also by what means ? I speak of a matter of fact — whither is lie brought ? He is brought from the basest, meanest, under-trodden state of slavery — from a state of mind still more degraded, being fool- ish, disobedient, deceived, serving divers lusts and pleasures, living in malice and envy, hate- ful and hating — wanting nothing of a com- plete devil, but his powers. This man is brought, I say, to be a faithful and zealous servant of his God — an able and laborious mi- nister of Christ — a useful and benevolent friend to his neighbour — wise to secure the salvation of his own soul, and wise to win the souls of others. Consider also the means by which he was brought. It was not by the arguments of phi- losophers, or the rational considerations of V B WTON. \li;;t is culled natural religion: Mr. N.\sown Hint informs us, that the peculiar disco- ties of revealed truth gradually broke in upon his mind ; till, at length, he was made sensible that there was a remedy provided in the Gos- pel, and which was fully sufficient to meet even his ease, and he found that, and that on- ly, to be " the power of God unto salvation." The result, therefore, which should be drawn from these premises is the following. There exists a desperate disorder in the world called sin. Heathens as well as Christians have marked its malignant influence — they have tried various expedients which have been pre- scribed for its cure, or at least its mitigation — but no means, except God's own appointed means, have been discovered that have been able to relieve so much as a single individual. Yet, strange to say, this medicina mentis of God's own appointment, to which only he has promised a peculiar blessing, and by which he is daily recovering men in the most desperate circumstances, who actually employ it : strange to say, this remedy still remains a stumbling block — is counted foolishness — insomuch that many will rather dash this cup of salvation from the lips of a profligate, like Newton, when disposed to receive it, than he should obtain 226 MEMOIRS OF THE relief that way. — Their conduct seems to say, " Rather let such a wretch go on in his profli- gacy, than the Gospel be acknowledged to be the wisdom and the power of God." Not that the case of Mr. N. here presented to the consideration of an unbeliever, is brought forward as if the Gospel needed any further evidence — or has occasion for facts of our own time to give it additional authenticity : but we are directed to regard the " cloud of wit- nesses," among which our departed brother was distinguished; and though now dead, yet speaketh. May the reader have ears to hear the important report ! Does, therefore, the question return as to what the unbeliever should do? Let him, after seriously considering what is here advanc- ed, consider also what conduct is becoming a responsible, or at least a rational creature? Surely it becomes such a one to avoid all means of stifling the voice of conscience when- ever it begins to speak — to regard the voice of God yet speaking to him in the revelation of his grace, and that much more humbly and seriously than such persons are wont to do. — It becomes him, if he have any regard to the interest of his own soul, or the souls of his fel- low-creatures, to give no countenance by his REV. JOHN NEWTON. declarations or example, to the scns< Us, and indecent scoffs, by which the profligate aim to cloak the disorders of their hearts — by which vanity aims at distinction, and half- thinkers affect depth. — The person I am now speaking to, cannot but observe how much the judgment becomes the dupe of the passions. " If the veil be upon the heart, it will be upon every thing. We need not only an object pre- sented, but an organ to discern it. Now the Gospel only affords both these. Mr. N. be- comes an instructive example in this respect to the unbeliever.—' 4 One of the first helps," says he, " I received (in consequence of a de- termination to examine the New Testament piore carefully) was from Luke, vi. 13. If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him ? I had been sensible, 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 b< true, the promise in this passage must be true 228 MEMOIRS OF THE likewise : I have need of that very Spirit by which the wiiole was written in order to un- derstand it aright. He has engaged here, to give that Spirit to those who ask : and if it be of God, he will make good his own word." A man, therefore, who is found in this un- happy state, but not judicially hardened in it, should mark this stage of Mr. N.'s recovery,, and attend to the facts and evidences of the power and excellency of real religion, such as this before him. — He should appreciate that Gospel, which it has pleased God to employ as his instrument for displaying the wonders of his might in the moral world. He should pray that he may experience the power of it in his owti heart, and thus not lose the additional benefit of the cases presented to him in Me- moirs like these ; a case, probably, far exceed- ing his own in the malignity of its symptoms,, * — Let him also consider that, while such con- victions can produce no real loss to him, they may secure advantages beyond calculation. He may not be able at present to comprehend how " Godliness is profitable for all things, in having not only the promise of the life that no\P is, but that which is to come ;" but he may see, as a rational creature, that, at the very fewest estimation, he has taken the safe side* ItEV. JOHN NEWTi by embracing the only hope set before him ; and on this ground, it is clearly demonstrable that not only the grossest folly must attach to the rejector of a revelation attended with such accumulated evidences, but also actual guilt, and the highest ingratitude and presumption. II. But there is another class of men, to whom I would recommend a serious consi- deration of Mr. N.'s religious character and principles. The persons whom I am now ad- dressing are convinced of the truth of revela- tion, and some of them ably contend for it- against unbelievers. They are also conscien- tious — they are often useful in society — and are sometimes found amiable and benevolent — they are even religious according to their views of religion — and some of them are exact in their devotions. Yet, from certain morbid symptoms, they appear not to receive the grace of God in truth, nor to be cordially dispos- ed to the spirit of the Gospel. — So much appa- rent right intention and exemplary conduct seems, indeed, to demand respect ; and a r pect which some who possess more zeal than judgment do not duly pay them. Ardelio despises his neighbour Eusebius^s religious views and habits ; and not onh deems him a blind pharisee, but has soi^ U 230 MEMOIRS OF THE times expressed the sentiment in the rudest terms. This reminds me of the old story of Diogenes' walking on the costly carpet of his brother philosopher, saying, " I trample on the pride of Plato." " Yes," said Plato, " but with greater pride, Diogenes." If it be asked, Why should any one judge unfavourably of such a character as Eusebius ? I answer, we may charitably seek to convince one whom we have reason to think under fatal mistakes, without any disposition to judge or condemn him. I meet a traveller who is con- fidently pursuing a path, which Ihave reason to believe is both wide of his mark, and danger- ous to his person ; I may charitably attempt to direct his steps, without thinking ill of his intention. — It is recorded of our Lord, that he even loved a young man, who went away sor- rowful on having his grand idol exposed. But why, it is asked, should you suspect any thing essentially wrong in such characters as you describe ? I reply, for the following rea- sons : I have observed with much concern, when God hath wrought such a mighty operation of grace in the heart o f a man, like Newton, that this man has not; upon such a saving change REV. JOHN NEWTON. 231 ig wrought, suited the religious taste of the persons just mentioned. They will, indeed, commend his external change of conduct ; but by no means relish his broken and contrite spirit, or his ascribing the change to free and unmerited favour, and his counting all things z loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, as that Lord who has thus led him from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God. They will not re- lish the zeal and evangelical strain of his preaching, his endeavour to alarm a stupid, sleeping conscience, to probe a deceitful heart, to expose the wretchedness of the w T orld, and to rend the veil from formality and hypocrisy; nay, they will rather prefer some dry moralist, or mere formalist, w r ho, instead of having ex- perienced any such change of heart, will ra- ther revile it. Again, I have observed a lamentable dispo- sition of mind in such persons to form false and unfavourable associations. They will pay too much attention to injurious representa- tions, true or false, of a religious class of man- kind, whom the world has branded with some general term of reproach. — Two or three ig- norant or extravagant fanatics shall be admit i to represent the religious world at large. 232 MEMOIRS OF THE not considering how much such offensive cha- racters are actually grieving those whose cause I am pleading. No one indeed can have lived long in society, but he must needs have^met the counterfeit of every excellence. — In the article of property, for instance, who is not on the watch lest he should be imposed on ? And, while the love of property is so general, who is not studious to discover the difference be- tween the tnie and the false ? It will be so in religion, wherever there is the attention which its worth so imperiously demands. Love has a piercing eye, which will discover its object in a crowd. But, if there be this disposition to confound in the lump the precious with the vile, it is symptomatic of something morbid in the heart. ---We have reason to fear a latent aversion from vital and spiritual religion, not- withstanding all the allowance that can be made for the prevailing prejudices of their educa- tion and circumstances, in the persons offend- ed. And here also, we cannot but lament the effect of such a disposition in those perverse conclusions these persons are often observed to draw from a sermon. Of the two handles which attach to every thing, what must we think of that mind which is ever choosing the wrong? Jesus Christ, for instance, shews how REV. JOHN NEWTON. 233 much the farm, the oxen, and the wife i eame impediments in the way of the refused his invitation. But a perverse conclu- sion would infer that he was, therefore, an enemy to lawful engagements. Candour, however, sees at a glance that this was not his design in speaking the parable. His drift w r as evidently to mark the state and spirit of the re- cusants, and not to discountenance their law- ful occupations. — He meant to shew that even lawful pursuits, may be unlawfully pursued, when they become sole objects, and are thus preferred to his inestimable proposal. It is s the \ veil- disposed hearer will mark the minister, and draw wholesome nourishment from that discourse which ano- ther will turn to poison, by stopping to cavil at the letter. Another objection arises from the affinity which characters of this class have with " a world which lieth in wickedness." In this instance of their worldly attachments, their charity will readily cover a multitude of sins, and form excuses for serious breaches of both tables of the law, in their worldly friends. They appear in their element while in the so- ciety of these friends, especially if wealthy and accomplished. If any person's ear is wounct- U2 234 memoirs or the ed with a profane expression from one of their rich or fashionable acquaintance, they are rea- dy to whisper that, " notwithstanding his un- guarded language, he has yet upon the whole one of the best of hearts." Yet an infallible monitor has said " Know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God ?" If the old maxim does not always hold good, that " a man is known by the company he keeps," it will infallibly jrtand good if we add one word to it, namely, that a man is known by the company he chooses to keep. — The physician may be de- tained in an infectious chamber, and the law- yer be found conversing with his client in a shower of rain ; but nobody will infer from thence, that the one chooses to breathe foul air, or that the other chooses to be wet to his skin. While the true Christian, therefore, will avoid inurbanity, fanaticism, or becoming the dupe of any religious party, he will also join the Psalmist in declaring " I am a com- panion of all them that fear thee, and of them that keep thy precepts." Again, these moral and religious characters, whom I am labouring to convince of their er- rors, have been observed to be more disposed to nurse, than to examine their prejudices REV. JOHN NEWTON. against a minister of Mr. N.'s principles. " His teaching," say they, " tends to divide a parish, or a family ;" but why do they not e amine the reason ? Why do they not consider that introducing good, has ever been the oc- casion of disturbing evil ? I recollect a great. family, whose servants were in a ferment, be- cause one truly conscientious man was found among them. " He will spoil the pia*e," was their term, because he would not connive at their iniquity. But let me ask, what was to be blamed in this aftair ? His integrity or their corruption ? The master understood the case, and valued his servant in proportion as he marked the division. And thus it is in reli- gion, while moving in a blind and corrupt world. Christ, though the Prince of Peace, expressly declared that his doctrine would be the occasion of much division in the world, that he came not to send peace, but a sword, that he should be the occasion of family va- riance, $cc. Matt. x. 34, 35 ; and warns his disciples of what they must expect while they endeavoured faithfully to conduct his interests. Plain matter of fact declares, that to maintain truth, has been the occasion of the suffering state of the true Church in all ages, and that often unto the death of its innumerable mar- 23G MEMOIRS OF THE tyrs. But, should a man who reads his Bible, or has an}' regard for the interests of truth, need to have this explained ? Another mistake might be exposed, in the stale objection, that such principles as Mr. N.'s tend to injure the interests of morality, from his strictly adhering to the doctrine of our eleventh article, on justification by faith. I would hope that this objection, in many, ari- ses from a very slight acquaintance with the subject. — It requires, indeed, but little atten- tion to ma^k how expressly the Scriptures maintain our justification on the sole merit of our Redeemer, while they as fully maintain the necessity of our sanctification or holiness by his Spirit. It has been proved over and over, by sound and incontestable arguments, that these two grand fundamentals of our religion are so far from opposing each other, either in Scripture or experience, that when real, they are found inseparable. But, because this is not the place to either state or defend this doc- trine at large, it may help such as have hither- to stumbled respecting it, to observe an illus- tration and proof of this position, in the mat- ter of fact just now presented to their view. To one willing to learn, I would say. What proof would you require of the practi- KliV. JOHN NEWTON. cal tendency of principles Uke Mr. N.'s ? Wc bring you, in his history, a most deplorable instance of human depravity and deep moral disorder. What experiment shall be tried to recover this wretched creature to God and to himself? — Regard, I say, the fact in this man's history. You will find that his recove- ry was not brought about by such considera- tions as are urged in what are termed moral or rational discourses ; but, on the contrary, by such truths as he laboured throughout his mi- nistry to establish, not only from the Scrip- tures, but from his own experience of their ef- ficacy. He dwelt on truths which are essen- tial and peculiar to Christianity : such as the guilt and utter depravity of our fallen nature, whereby man is become an alien and apostate from his God. — His inability to recover him- self without the grace of the Holy Spirit, the necessity of regeneration by the same Spirit, — and of faith in the Redeemer, not only as the only ground of his justification before God, but as the root and motive of all acceptable obedience and good works. " If I wanted a man to fly," saiei Mr. N. " I must contrive to find him wings ; and thus, If I would success- fully enforce moral duties, I must advance evangelical motives. ' ' He preached truths I 233 MEMOIRS OF THE these constantly and fervently, and he lived a consistent example of them. Thus in/all things approving himself a true disciple and minister of Christ, those who knew him know that, without making any odious comparison, it might be literally affirm- ed of Mr. N. that " by pureness, by know- ledge, by long suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armour of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, his mouth was opened and his heart en- larged towards men . ' ' I trust it is from a pure motive that I am en- deavouring to convince persons of the class I am addressing, of their mistake. And I am the more induced to bring a case in point be- fore them, because I think it cannot be paral- leled as an instance of the power of religion, among those who labour to keep up prejudices against ministers of Mr. N.'s character; or who, by unfair or partiaL statements, strive to subvert the doctrines he preached, and the OTeat end to which all his labours were direct- ed, namely, the life of God in the soul of man. If indeed any one " is willing to be de- ceived, let him be deceived." At least such an one will not be addressed here. But REV. JOHN NEWTON. if a man has any serious sense of the value of his soul, of its lost condition by sin. and of recovering the friendship )f his God : if he feel the express declaration in the Scriptures of an eternity of happiness or n ery to be of infinite importance, and to which the weightiest concern in this perishing world is but as the dust on the balance — let such a one consider these things. Let him inquire whether those who object to the cha- racter and views of such a minister as Mr. N. labour first to probe the state of their own hearts deeply, as he did ? When he was no longer an infidel, had renounced his grosser habits, and was to all appearance a new man ; " Yet," says he, " though I cannot doubt that this change, so far as it prevailed, was wrought by the Spirit and power of God, still I was great- ly deficient in many respects. I was in some degree affected with a sense of my more enor- mous sins, but I was little aware of the innate evils of my heart. I had no apprehension 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, and a continual dependence upon him for hourly supplies of wisdom, strength, and comfort, was a mystery of which I had as vet no knowlecl 240 MEMOIRS OF THE I acknowledged the Lord's mercy in pardoning what was past, but depended chiefly upon my own resolution to do better for the time to come." Let the honest inquirer also consider, whe- ther the objectors just spoken of, are observ- ed to be as anxious in their pursuits to serve God and propagate his will, to glorify his son, and to save the souls of men ? Whether thev have experienced the force of truth, in the con- version of their own hearts and lives. — Con- formed to the world as he once was, have they been since transformed by the renewing of their minds, as he at length became ? A few such questions as these, well considered, would lead to important discoveries. Such an enqui- ry would shew, that however some persons may be able to treat of the outworks of revela- tion, as they may of any .other science they have studied ; yet for such to dogmatise on re- ligion, as it consists in a vital, spiritual, and experimental principle, would be as absurd as for a man originally deprived of one of the five senses, to deny the perceptions of those who possess them all. In short, it is as rediculous as it is profane, for men rashly to assert on reli- gious points* who evidently appear to have no- thing so little at heart as the real influence and actual interests of religion. REV. JOHN KE Lastly, let nominal Christians seriously con- sider whether our immortal interests arc not much too important to be staked upon a mere prejudice of education — an old, undevised habit of thinking — a taking it for granted that they are right, when the event may awfully prove the reverse ; and that too, when such errors can never be rectified ? The pers< with whom I have been pleading would p the Jew or the Pagan in such an error : J ear nestly pray that they may be enabled to sev as clearly their own mistake, and not resent the admonition of a real friend now r seeking to prevent it. III. But there yet remains a class of person^, found in the religious world, who entertain a high regard for Mr. N.'s character, and who should gather that instruction from it of which they appear to stand in great need. " They should all take care," as he expresses it, " that they do not make their profession of religion a receipt in full for all other obligations." I do not regard this class as hypocrites, so much as self-deceivers. They have a zeal for Gospel ; but without a comprehensive W 242 MEMOIRS OF THE of its nature. They do not consider that, in avoiding error on the one hand, they are plung- ing into a contrary mistake. Like a child crossing a bridge, they tremblingly avoid the deep water which they perceive roaring on one side ; and recede from it, till they are ready to perish from not perceiving the danger of that which lies on the other side. The class, of which I am here speaking, are defective in the grand article of a humble and contrite spirit. I remember Mr. N. used to remark, that " if any one criterion could be given of a real work of grace begun in the heart of a sinner, it would be found in his con- trite spirit.' ' Nothing is more insisted on in Scripture, as essential to real religion. I ne- ver knew any truly serious Christian but would readily join in acknowledging that " the reli- gion of a sinner," as Mr. N. expresses it, u stands on two pillars, namely, what Christ did for us in his flesh, and what he performs in us by his Spirit: most errors," says .he, " arise from an attempt to separate these two." But, as it was in the beginning, so it is now } the enemy comes and sows tares among the wheat, and a sort of loose profession has ob- tained, which has brought much reproach on religion, and become a cause of stumbling to REV. JOHN NEWTON. many, who perceive a class of Christians con tending' for only a part of Christianity. You can prevail little with a professor of this description, in exhorting him by the meek- ness and gentleness of Christ, to self-denying, patient, or forbearing habits. If you state the genius of Christ's religion as it relates to the returning good for evil — in blessing them that curse, and praying for such as revile and per- secute — in shewing, out of a good conversa- tion, their works with meekness of wisdom — or, in having a fervent charity towards all men, &c. he is ready to kindle, and to cover his conduct by a crude system of mere doctrinal points, ill understood. It is well if your well- intended remonstrance does not lead him to ask, " Whether you mean to bring him back to the Whole Duty of Man, or to Nelson's Festivals and Fasts ? He laments that you yourself are not clear in the Gospel, because you maintain the whole of it ; and that you arc not faithful, if you maintain the whole of it in a patient, forbearing spirit. The views of such persons, and the evil tempers to which they give place in their spi- ritual warfare, have often reminded me of the shnewd answer which our Richard the first sent to the Pope j vrZio was angry because a c 2U MEMOIRS OF THE tain warlike bishop had fallen by Richard in battle, and whom, being an ecclesiastic, the Pope called his son. Richard sent the bishop's armour to the Pope, with the words of Joseph's brethren — " Know now whether this be thy •son's coat or not." Nothing, however, could be more opposed to the spirit and character of our departed - friend than the temper that has just been de- scribed. His zeal in propagating the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, was not more conspicuous, than the tender- ness of his spirit as to the manner of his main- taining and delivering it. He was found con- stantly speaking the truth in love, and in meek- ness instructing those that oppose themselves, if God peradventure would give them repent- ance to the acknowledging the truth. There was a gentleness, a candour, and a forbearance in him that I do not recollect to have seen in an equal degree among his brethren ; and which had so conciliating an effect, that men the enemies of truth often spoke loudly in praise of his character. On the other hand, it generated such an affection in his friends, that, had Ive attempted to preach longer than he. did, a great part of his congregation would have r.£V. joiin NE^'ig,\. 245 gathered, were it only for the pleasure the) had in seeing his person. That this account is not panegyric, is known to all who personally knew Mr. N. But, as many who may read these Memoirs had not that pleasure, I will add the testimony of one whose nice discernment of character will ad- mit of no question. " A people will love a minister, if a minis- seems to love his people ; the old maxim .s'imile agit in simile is in no case more exactly verified ; therefore you were beloved at Olney, and if you preached to the Chickesaws and Chactaws, would be equally beloved by them*." As the spirit of Christian benevolence and charity seems not to have been sufficiently cultivated among us, while a furious and oftq;i abusive zeal for certain points, as Cowper re- marks, has been substituted for the whole truth, I am led to dwell longer than I intended in enforcing this amiable feature of Mr. NVjS character; especially on account of those Christians who have imbibed a false taste in their religion, from such teachers, or books, as have fallen in their way. I, therefore, ear* ' Ilayley's Life of Cowper, Letter 27. W2 "246 MEMOIRS OF THE nestly request such persons to weigh well the inquiries which follow. Have you ever sufficiently considered the ex r il of divisions and heart-burnings in a church ; and what interest that enemy, who comes to sow tares among the wheat, takes in promo- ting them ? — Do you reflect that another Christian may be doing God's work, though his mode of doing it may not meet your taste, any more than your taste meets his ? — Do you consider how much greater evil a wrong spirit and temper produce than the things you ob- ject against ? — Do you weigh the consequen- ces of yowr haste ift weakening the hands, and grieving the heart of any godly minister, whom you constantly or occasionally attend ; and in actually laying a stumbling block in the way of the ungodly, while you depreciate him and his services? Nothing affected that eminent character, Mr. Cadogan, like what he met from some religious persons of this kind, as f have related from his own lips, in his Me- moirs*. Let me further exhort such as are in danger from this unchastised spirit to consider, how much corrupt nature is at the bottom of this error? Corrupt nature frets and rages at a#y •* See Memoirs of Cadogan? p, 39. REV. JOHN NEWTON. 247 •posed contradiction or restraint; it would substitute the work of the tongue for that of the heart : in the mean time, real religion is scorned by the world, which cannot distin- guish between a thing so deformed, and the thing as it ought to appear. Consider also, whether there needs any grace at all in order to maintain such a sort of profession ? We require only to christen the evil passions of corrupt nature, and then may call names, hate, boast, and give ourselves the preference, as much as any ungodly man what- ever! A zealot at an election can fight, and strive for his favourite candidate : with in- flamed zeal he can cause divisions, exhibit pride, self-will, and impatience cf subordina- tion ; but let me ask, will the same evil tem- pers change their nature because they are em- ployed about spiritual objects ? Much blame attaches too, respecting cer- tain disputable points for which such persons strive. It seems as if some, who are other- wise good men, did not relish the Bible till they had garbled and selected it ; and that, if the whole were not of acknowledged authori- ty, they would condemn it as it now stands. They speak as if it were not accurate in its terms, or sufficiently express or decisive m 248 MEMOIRS ©F XHJB confirming their fond opinions. This leads them to be shy of some parts of revelation, and to distort others, in order to fit them for their system ; and while contending for that sys- tem, they appear to forget the stress which the Apostle lays upon the holy, humble, self-de- nying, affectionate spirit of Christianity, in 1 Con xiii. how gentle it is ! how easy to be entreated ! how it hopeth and endureth all things, &c. While, on the contrary, they who can speak with the tongues of men and of an- gels, who have all knowledge, who can work miracles, and even die martyrs, would, with- out this distinguishing characteristic of Chris- tianity, be considered of God as NOTHING* The Old Testament dispensation, it is grant- ed, had a severe aspect, apd special occasions may be pleaded for special expressions of holy indignation under any dispensation ; but, when the Prophet describes the brighter day, he foretells that then the wolf shall dwell with the lamb, Sec. as emblematical of the preva- lence of that grace described by the Apostljp in the chapter just quoted. Hold, therefore^ the faith once delivered to the saints as firmly -as possible, but hold it in love. Buy the truthi and sell it not — rather die for it, than part witfo ft — but speak it in love ; and walk in it gs KLV. JOHN NEWTON. 249 Christ also walked, ever remembering that " the wrath of man worketh not the righteous- ness of God." I feel conscious that it is simply with a view to convince many well-meaning Christians of their error (and I have found more or less of this class in almost every place where I have been) that I thus speak. If a gross superstition arising in the church, perverted the Christia- nity of former ages ; I wish I may mistake in supposing, that a loose and unscriptural profes- sion is widely spreading as the bane of our age. Against such a departure from the true genius of Christianity, I certainly, as a minis- ter of Christ, ought to bear my feeble testi- mony. Consider, therefore, that what is said is with a single view to your best interests ; and the Lord give you understanding in all things. As I referred the Christians, who were last addressed, to the character of Mr. N. as an example, so I never knew a more perfect one to my purpose. — When any person deprecia- ted the ministry of a good man, who, by ad- vancing important truths, was opposing the reigning errors of the times ; but who from ti- midity or prejudice was shy of Mr. N. he would imitate his divine Master by say i; 250 MEMOIRS OF THE v fi Let him alone, he that is not against us is on our side. — Make no man an offender for a word. — He is doing good, according to his -views. — Let us pray for him, and by no means weaken his hands. — Who knows but God may one day put him far above our heads, both in knowledge and usefulness?" His grand point, in a few words, as he used to express it, was, " To break a hard heart, and to heal a broken heart." — To implant the life of God in the soul of man, he would sa- crifice every subordinate consideration. He felt every' other consideration comparatively insignificant. He saw the spirit of ancient Pharisaism working among those who cry out the most against it — who exact to a scruple, in the tythe of mint, anise, and cummin of their own peculiarities, while they pass over the weightier matters of unity and love — straining at the knat of a private opinion, and swallowing the camel of a deadly discord. On the contrary, as far as order and circum- stances would admit, Mr. N. clave to every good man, and endeavoured to strengthen his hands, in whatever denomination of Chris- tians he was found. His character well illus- trated the Scripture, that though scarcely for a righteous (or just) man would one die, yet REV. JOHN" NKWTON. 25] for a good man (i. c. one eminent for his can- dour and benevolence) some would even dare to die. However they admired some minis- ters, they all loved him ; and saw exemplified in him that wisdom is from above, — which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle and easy to be intreatcd, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. I conclude these Memoirs with a word to such as are endeavouring to follow the steps of their late faithful friend, as he followed Christ. We cannot but lament the errors, just described. We cannot, if we have any zeal for the Gospel, but protest against them. But let us recollect that they are not the only errors which are found in the Church ; and therefore let us watch lest any other root of bitterness spring up to trouble us, and defile many. While you lament with me the remo- val of ministers like Mr. N., let us recollect that eternal friend, who will never leave hi£ Church without witnesses to the truth : and who, among other reasons for removing earth- ly helps, teaches us thereby to rest only on that help which cannot be removed. Let us take comfort too in recollecting, that spotted as the Church may appeal- from the inconsis. tencies of many of its members, yet all the reSft 252 ( MEMOIRS OF THE good that is to be found in this corrupt world, is to be found in that Church. — God saw se- ven thousand true believers in Israel, while his prophet could see but one. — Where some Jehu is sounding a trumpet before him, many are quietly passing to Heaven without any such clamour. As a great writer remarks, " Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make the field ring with their importunate chink, while thousands of great cattle chew the cud and are silent, pray do not imagine that those who make the noise, are i the only 'inhabitants of the field.' " But I must remark, that nothing has been more profitable to myself in considering Mr. N.'s life, than the exhibition it makes of a par- ticular Providence. If the Church be not con- ducted by such visible signs now, as former- ly, it is found to be as actually conducted. We read of a divine hand concerned in the fall of sparrows, in numbering the hairs of our head, and in raising our dust to life ; but with what little interest we read this, appears by our distrust in the first trial we meet. If we ^ do not dare to join the sentiments of some., who regard such expressions as purely figura- tive and hyperbolical ; yet our imagination is so overwhelmed with the difficulty of the per- REV. JOHN NEWTON. 253 gprmance, that we are apt to turn from the sub- ject, with some general hope, but with a very indistinct and vague idea of a God at hand, faithful to his promise, and almighty to deli- ver. Yet, how many cases occur in the his- tory of every one of us, where nothing short of an Almighty arm could prove a present help in the time of trouble. Now this short history before us, is admira- bly calculated to encourage our faith and hope, when we are called to pass through those deep waters that seem to bid defiance to human strength and contrivance. What, for instance, but a divine interference caused Mr. N. to be roused from sleep on board the Harwich at the moment of exchanging men, and thereby effected his removal ? — What placed him in a situation so remarkably suited to his recover- ing the ship which had already passed the place of his station in Africa, and brought him back to his country ? — What kept him from returning in the boat that was lost at Rie Cestors ? — Or from the ship that was blown up near Liverpool ? — Not to mention many other of his special deliverances. " I am a wonder unto many," says he, in the motto of his Narrative ; and, if we as dis- tinctly considered the strange methods of m$r X 254 MEMOIRS Of THE cy which have occurred in our own cases, \ should at least be a wonder to ourselves. But my aim is to point out the use we should make of these Memoirs in this respect. We should, as Christians, mark the eiror of de- spair. — We should see that the case of a pray- ing man cannot be desperate — that if a man be out of the pit of hell, he is on the ground of mercy. — We should recollect that God sees a way of escape when we see none — that no- thing is too hard for him — -that he warrants our dependance, and invites us to call on him in the day of trouble, and gives a promise of deliverance. — We should, therefore, in every trial, adopt the language of Mr. N.'s favourite Herbert : " Away Despair : my gracious Lord doth hear ; 1 hough winds and waves assault my keel, He doth preserve it ; he doth steer, Ev'n when the boat seems most to reel ; Storms are the triumph of his art : Well may he close his eyes 2 but not his heart. 5 ' From these facts we should see that Christ is able, not only to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him ; but also that he is able to bring the most hardened blasphe- \iaer and abject slave from his chains of sin and TlLV. JOHN NEWTON. 255 uiscry, to stand in the most honourable and nscful station, and proclaim to the wretched and to the ruined, the exceeding riches of his grace. I have observed from my own expe- rience as well as from that of others, how strong a hold Satan builds by despair. The pressing fascinations of the world, the secret invitations of sensuality, and the distant pros- pect of eternal things, form a powerful current against vital religion. The heart of a Chris- tian is ready to sink whenever these proud wa- ters rise. Let him, therefore, recollect, that his hope, his only hope, is in pressing right onward through a world of lies and vanity — that his present dispensation is the walk of faith, and not of sight — and that by two im- mutable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, he has given strong consolation to such as flee for refuge to the hope set be- fore him. One could, indeed, scarcely conjecture that cases like Mr. N.'s should be so perverted by any of our children, as that they should take confidence in their sins from his former course of life ; but, because such facts, as I am cre- dibly informed, do exist, let us be upon the watch to counteract this deep device of the great enemy. 256 MEMOIRS OF THE My dear young friends, who may have read these Memoirs, perhaps merely for your amusement, consider with what a contrary design St. Paul states his former unrenewed condition : " I was," says he, " before a blas- phemer, a persecutor and injurious — but, for this cause I obtained mercy." — For what cause ? Was it that men should continue in sin because a miracle of special grace has been wrought ? To do evil that good may come, is the black mark of a reprobate mind. — But for this cause, saith the Apostle, I ob- tained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might shew forth all long suffering, for a pat- tern to them who should hereafter believe in him to life everlasting. The same caution is necessary whenever you may be tempted to hope for such a recovery as Mr. N.'s, after erring like him. To proceed upon suclTa hope is a gross presumption. Thousands pe- rish in wrong courses, for one who escapes from their natural consequences. Pray, there- fore, that vou mav be enabled to resist the temptation of perverting such extraordinary cases. God affords them to be a savour of life unto life, while Satan would employ them to be a savour of death unto death. One Al- mighty to save, affords you here, indeed, an REV. JOHN NEWTi instance of special mercy, which gives you the strongest encouragement in setting your faces towards his kingdom ; and this is the proper use to be made of such a case. Your parents, your most disinterested friends, anxiously watching for your good ; and y, perhaps, have put this book into your hand with a view of promoting it. The au- thor has cause to thank God who put it into the heart of his pious parent to make a simi- lar attempt, and bless it with success ; and he could tell of more such instances. May it please God that you may be added to the nuiru ber ! Worldly prosperity would rather hurt than help you before your minds become rightly directed. Mr. N. shews us (p. 69,) that his firmest friend could not have served him, had not God first prepared his mind for the ad- vancement. An enemy w r ould occupy your minds with perishing objects ; but God calls you to cultivate nobler views. He proposes glory, honour, immortality, and eternal life bv the Gospel. — Seek, therefore, first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all other things shall be added unto you. FINIS. v. ftmiVIER, PRINTER. V Date Due 7f > PW^^ m i J * f) ■■m HH ■ i