h yr~u LIBRA.RY OF TIIK Theological Seminary, PRINCETON, N. J. , \ Ca.e, fs^.{£. D^(S^ ^S ^ S/ielf. Section ■' . J Book, (Sip,,. OF XNQUIRV OH IKEZSSZOlffS AM) THE STATE OF KELIGTON. 'SCC V. 7 \f ty^^.^^^^ ^y^ tr--^^^^^^^^ 4^^^^^^ ^-tA^^-lf- ^L^ , ^ ^v \ IS. » ^ KB. in rER-RO\^ '■♦a EVANGELICAL BIOGRAPHY; OR, AN HISTORICAL ACCOUNI OF THE LIVES 4- DEATHS OF THE MOST EMINENT AND EVANGELICAL AUTHORS OR FREACMERSs BOTH BRITISH AND FOREIGN, IN THE SEVERAL DENOMINATIONS OF PROTESTANTS, rnoM THE BEGINNING OF THE REFORMATION TO THE PRESENT Tl^. wiirnEiN Are collected, from authentic Historians, their most remarkable Actions, Suf- ferings, and Writings ; exhibiting the Unit if of their Faith and Experiener. in their several Ages, Countries, and Professions; and illustrating the Power of Divine Grace in their holy Living and Diji^ig. REV. ERASMUS MIDDLETON, Of King's College, Cambridge; Cliaplaiu to the Right Hon. the Countess of Crauforil and Lindsay ; and Rector of Turvey, Bedibrdshire. The Faithful are chosen in Christ, Eph. i. 4. — called by grace, Gal. i. 15 — justified freely by grace, Rom. iii. 24. — holy and beloved, Col. iii. 12. — they live by faith. Gal. iii. 1 1. — obtain a good report through faith, Hf.b. xi. 39. — die blessed in the Lord, Kev. xiv. 13. — shall appear with liim in glor}. Col. iii. 4. A NEW EDITION, ILLUSTRATED WITH ITFTY-ONE PORTRAITS, IN FOUR VOLUMES.— VOL. IV. LONDON: nilNTED FOR W. BAYNES, 54, PATERNOSTER-UOW. ^ 1816. Hopkins Jacomb Bunyan Baxter Flavel Conant Fleming Henry, P. Baily Bates Burkitt Spener Howe Beveridge Doolittle Witsius Tallents Trosse Haly burton Henry, M. Shower Allix Taylor Clarke Mather Harvey, S. Evans Saurin VOL. IV. INDEX. Page Pago 1 Ulrick 252 3 Boston 254 7 Fabricius 258 16 Hubbard 259 48 Moth 261 64 Brainerd 262 69 Watts 264 76 Harrison 277 lOi Erskine, E. 279 105 Erskine, R. 280 110 Doddridge 282 121 Edwards 294 126 Hervey, J. 317 144 Jones, Gr. 333 149 Davies 341 156 Walker 350 170 Guyse 374 172 Jones, T. 380 188 Pearsall 390 197 Grinishaw 394 214 Bostwick 414 221 Whitelield 418 228 Gill 448 230 Hitchin 466 233 Toplady 474 240 Conder 488 243 Maddock 491 247 Conclusion 497 t,; INDEX. Page Page Allix 2-21 Harvey, S. 240 Henry, M. 197 Baily 101 Henry, P. 76 Bates 105 Hervey, J. 317 Baxter 16 Hitchin 466 Beveridge 144 Hopkins 1 Boston 254 Howe 126 Bostwick 414 Hubbard 259 Brainerd 262 Bunyan 7 Jacomb 3 Buikitt 110 Jones, Gr. 333 Jones, T. 380 Clarke 230 Coiiant 64 Maddock 491 Conder 488 Mather 233 Motl^ 261 Davies 341 Doddridge 282 Pearsall 390 Doolittle 140 Saurin 247 Edwards 294 Shower 214 Erskine, E. 279 Spener 121 Erskine, R. 280 Tallents 170 Evans 243 Taylor 228 Fabricius 258 Toplady 474 Flavel 48 Trosse 172 Fleming 69 O Ulrick 252 Gill 448 Walker 350 Grimshaw 448 Guyse 374 Watts 264 V Whitefield 418 Halyburton 188 Witsius 156 Harrison 277 BIOGRAPHIA EVANGELICA. EZEKIEL HOPKINS, D.D. BISHOP OF DERRY, m IRELAND. EzEKIEL HOPKINS, a learned Bishop, whose worls are in good esteem, was born in 1633, in the pa- rish of Crediton, near Exeter, in Devonshire, and was son 1o the curate of Sandford, a chapel of ease belon"-- ing ,o Crediton. In 1649 he became a chorister of Magialen College, Oxford, usher of the school adjoin- ing when bachelor of arts, cliaplain of the college when masto", and would have been fellow had his county qua- lified \im. All this time he lived and was educated un- der prtsbyterian and independent discipline ; but, upon the reioration of King Charles II. being a doctrinal Calvinit, and a real professor of the most essential arti- cles of ihe church of England, he found no difficultv in his mine, for a full conformity to its outward ritual, when re-estabUiied by law; persuaded that more good might be done in tie church than out of it, both because there were more oppu'tunities of attempting it, and because there, in conseqieice of the larger and more mixed multitude, it was moi' of all wanted. He was first, by the interest of Sir Thonas Viner, made lecturer of tlie parish of Hack- ney near L>ndon, where he continued till the act of con- formity wa> published, and might have been chosen a lecturer in london, but the bishop would not permit it, • because he was a popular preacher, ]\Ir. Wood says, ' among thefanatics.' At the Kestoration, the Jtirn of the church wre much changed, but the doctrines of the VOL. n'. B church 2 HOPKINS. clmrcli continued tlie same. Some fiery Arminians took the lead, and, instead of compromising diiTerences, (as they had tlien a favourable oj)|)ortunity to do) they, or too many of them, sought the indulgeiice of revenge by trampling all dissenters under their feet. It is not to be doubted, but that the great majority of the hundreds who were ejected in 1662, would have gladly conformed by healing measures, both to preserve their maintenance and to enjoy a larger sphere of uselulness. All moderate men (and moderate men are the only wise men) must look back with regret upon those times, when, to the great scandal of the protestant religion and of Christianity itself, the miuisters of peace became ministers of war, and, instead of embracing and forgiving, and reclaiming, seemed too eager to bite and devour one another. Pudet heec opprobria nobis. After some considerable time, he was promoted to the parish church of St. Mary Woolnorth, in Lombard Street. But, on account of the plague, he re- tired to Exeter, where he was .so much approved of and applauded for his excellent manner of preaching, especial- ly by Dr. Seth Ward, Bishop of that diocese, (who was himself a true bishop and real friend of the church) that he presented hira to the parish of St. Mary Arches in that city. John, Lord Roberts, Baron of Truro, hap- pened to hear him pi'each at this place, and was so much jdeased with his abilities, (for he was, as the lat^ Mr, Hervey* styled him, ' a fervent and afFectionate"" preach- er) that, soon after upon his own appointment to be Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, he took him with him in t^ie qua- lity of chaplain, and in the same year, viz. 1669, gave him his daughter in marriage, and conferred upon him the treasurership of Waterford, and, in the year follow- ing, the deanery of llaphoe. In the spring afterwards, he strongly recommended him to the favour of h/s succes- sor, John, Lord Berkeley of Stratton, who, on the twen- ty-seventh of October 1671, promoted him to the see of Raphoc, t(5 which he was consecrated in Chrl^ Church, Dublin, by James, Archbishop of Armagh, assisted by the Bishops of Cloghcr, Waterford, and Derry. On the eleventh of November 1681, ten ycirs after, he was translated to the bishopric of Derry. in 1688, on account of the troubles in Ireland, he returned to England for safety, and was made minister of the parish of St, Mary, Aldermanbury, or, as others say, of pt. Lawrence, / Jewry, * Theron and Aspasio,.Vol. II. p. 31 ■ J A C O M B. 3 Jewry, where he died on the twenty-second of June 1690, and was buried in the church of St. Mary, Alder- manbury. The see was kept vacant on account of the unsettled state of the kingdom, till the eighth of January following. He was a Prelate greatly esteemed for his humility, modesty, hospitality, and charity; as also for his great learning and excellent preaching ; and was reckoned also no inconsiderable poet. [lis Works consist of " Two volumes of sermons; an Exposition of the Ten Commandments, printed in 1692, 4to, And an Exposition of the Lord's Prayer, &e. 1G92. 4to;' J > THOMAS JACOMB, D.D. Ti HOMAS JACOMB was born near Melton Mow^ bray, in Leicestershire, in the year 1622. After he had been trained up in grammar learning at the country schools, he was sent to Magdalen Hall, Oxford, of which Dr. AViikinson, the elder, was then principal. When he had taken the degree of bachelor of arts, he removed to Cambridge, and was of Emanuel College. He was for some time fellow of Trinity, and much esteemed in that tloi\rishing society. He came to London in 1647, and was soon after minister of Ludgate parish, where his ministry was both acceptable and useful till he was turned out in 10^32. He was a nonconformist iij)on moderate principles; much rather desiring to have been compre- hended in the national cluirch, than to have separated from it. He met witli some trouble after his ejectment, but being received into the family of the Countess Dowager of Exeter, daughter of the Earl of Bridge- water, he was covered from his enemies. Her respect for the Doctor was peculi;;r, and the iavours conferred upon him extraordinary, for wliich he made tlie best return, by his constant care to promote religion in her family. He was a servant of Christ in the most peculiar and sacred relation, and was true to his title botli in his doc- trine and in hU life. ElTectual gracs wrought so powpr- fully 4- J A C O M B. fully upon his soul, that he became an excellent preacher of the gospel, and had a happy art of conveying saving truths into the minds and hearts of men. He did not entertain his hearers with mere curiosities, but with spi- ritual food, i'aitlifully dispensing the bread of life, whose vital sweetness and nouri?liing virtue is bv the Holy Spirit rendered both productive and preservative of the life of souls. He preached Christ crucified, our only wisdom and righteousness, sanctification, and redemp- tion. His great design was to convince sinners of their abso- hite want of Christ, that with flaming affections they might be led to him by his convincing Spirit, and from his fulness receive divine grace. This is to water the tree at the root, whereby it becomes both flourishing and fruitful ; whereas only laying down moral rules for the exercise of virtue, too frequently ends in words only, without any real eflect in the life and conversation. In short, his sermons were clear, solid, and affectionate. His words came from his soid, and from warm affec- tions, and they entered into the breasts of his hearers : Of this many serious and judicious persons were wit- nesses, who long attended upon his ministry with profit and delight. His constant diligence in the service of Christ was be- coming his zeal for the glory of his master, and his love to the souls of men. He preached thrice a-week while he had opportunity and strength, esteeming his labour in his sacred office both his highest honour and his pleasure. At the first appearance of an ulcer in his mouth, which he was told to be cancerous, he was observed to be not more concerned thereat, than as it was likely to hinder his de- lightful work of preaching; and when he enjoyed ease, and after wasting sickness was restored to some degree of strength, he joyfully returned to his duty. Nay, when his pains were tolerable, preaching was his best anti- dote when others failed; and after his preaching, the reflection upon the divine goodness, that had given him strength for the discharge of the service, was a great re- lief of his pains^ His sermons, which, we have observed, were clear, so- lid and affectionate, were printed in a fair and lively cha- racter in his conversation. He was an example to believers, in conversation, in clarity, in spirit, in faith, in purity. He was of a stayed mind, temperate passions, and mode- rate in counsels. In managing affaii's of moment, he was not J A C 0 M B. & »ot vehement and confident, not imposing and over- bearing, hut receptive of advice, and yielding to reason. His compassionate charity and beneficence were very conspicuous amongst his other graces. His heart was given to Goo, and his relieving hand was open to the living images of God, whose pressing wants he felt with tender aflections, and he was greatly instru- mental in supplying them. As his life adorned the gos- pel, so also his death was exemplary to others, and gracious and comfortable to himself. The words of men leaving the world make usually the deepest imj)ressions, being spoken most feelingly and tiuly, and with the least atfectation. Death revetds the secrets of men's hearts : And the testimonies of dying saints, how gra- cious a Master they have served, and how sweet his service has been to their souls, have a mighty influence upon those about them. In his last sickness, which was long and painful, his first work was, to yield himself with resigned submission to the will of God. When a dear friend of his first visited him, he said, " I am in the use of means ; but *' I think mv appointed time is come, that I must die : " If my life might be serviceable to convert or build *' up one soul, I should be content to live ; but if " God hath no work tor me to do, here I am, let " him do with me as he pleaseth : But to be with " Christ is best of all." Another time he told the same person, " That now it was visible it was a determined " case : The Lord would not hear the prayer, to bless *' the means used for iiis recovery," therefore desired his friends to be willing to resign him to God, say- ing, '* It will not be long before we meet in heaven, ** never to part more, and there we shall be j^erfectly *' happy : There neither your doubts and fears, nor " my pains and sorrows, shall follow us, nor our " sins, which is best of all." After a long continuance in his languishing condition, without any sensible alte- ration, being asked how he did, he replied, " I lie here, " but get no ground for heaven or earth :" Upon which one said, ' Yes, in your preparations for heaven.' *' O yes, said he, there I sensibly get ground, I bless " God." An humble submission to the divine plea- sure was the habitual frame of his soul. Whether the hope of his recovery were raised or sunk, he was con- tent in every dispensation of providence. Ilii. 6 J A C O M B. His patience under sharp and continuing pains was ad- mirable. The most difficult part of a Christian's duty, the sublimest degree of holiness upon earth, is to bear tor- menting pains with a meek and quiet spirit. Then faith is made perfect in works ; and this was eminently verified In his long trial. His pains were very severe, proceeding fz'om a cancerous humour that spread itself in his joints, and preyed upon the tenderest membranes, the most sen- sible parts, yet his patience was invincible. How many restless nights did he pass through without the least mur- muring or reluctancy of spirit ! He patiently suiTered very grievous things through Christ that strengthened him ; and in his most afflicted condition was thankful. But neither disease, nor even death itself, could disturb the blessed composure of his soul, which was kei)t by the peace of Goo that passes all understanding. Such was the divine mercy, he had no anxiety about his future state, but a comfortable assurance of the Lord's favour, and his title to the eternal inheritance. He had a substantial double joy in the reflection upon his life spent in the fiiithful service of Christ, and the pro- spect of a blessed eternity ready to receive him. This made him long to be above. He said with some regret, "'' Death flies from me; I make no haste to my Father's *' house." But the wise and gracious Gon. who is rich in mercy, having tried his faithful servant, at length gave him the crown of life, which he hath promised to those that love him, and live and die in the Lord. His body, that poor relict of frailty, is committed in trust to the grave. His soul sees the face of God in righteousnesg, and is satisfied with his likeness. He died of a cancerous humour, in the Countess of Exeter's house, on the twenty-seventh of March 16S7, in the sixty-sixth year of his age, leaving behind him an incomparable library of the most valuable books, in all parts of learning ; which was afterwards sold by auction for thirteen hundred pounds. Plis funeral sermon was preached by Dr. Bates, and dedicated to the above pious Lady Exeter. His Works are, " A Commentary on the first four Verses of the viiith chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, 4to. A Treatise of Ploly Dedication, both personal and domestic, written after the fire of London, and recom- mended to the citizens, after their return to their rebuilt habitations, and other tracts. A Funeral Sermon for Mr. M. Martin. — Another for Mr. Vines, with an account of his B U N Y A N. 7 Ills life. — Another for Mr. Case, with a narrative of his life and deatli. The life and death of Mr. William Whit- aker, son of the famous JMr. Jcr. Whitaker. Two Ser- mons in the ' Morning Exercise.'' A Sermon at St. J^aufs, Oct. 2G, l(i.5G. A Sermon before the Lord Mayor, &c. at the Spittal.'' JOHN BUN Y AN. John BUNYAN, Author of the justlj admired allegory of the " Tilgrim's rrogress," was born at Elstow, near Bedford, in the year 1G2S. His parents, though very mean, took care to give him that learning whicii was suitable to their condition, bringing him u{) to read and write; he quickly forgot both, abandoning him- self to all manner of wickedness, but not without frequent checks of conscience. He was often affrighted with dreams, and terrified with visions in the night ; and twice narrowly escaped drowning. Being a soldier in the parlia- ment army, at the siege of Leicester, in }GA5, he wa& drawn out to stand sentinel ; but another soldier of his company desired to take his place, to which he agreed, and thereby probabl}^ escaped being shot through tiie liead by a musket-ball, which took off his comrade. About this time he married, having no other portion witli his wife than the two following books, left by her late father, ' The Plain ^Man's Pathway to Heaven ;' and ' The * Practice of Pietv."' Bunyan often reading in these books, and his wife frequently telling him of her father's religion? holy life, and how he reproved vice and immorality both in his own house and among his neigidiours, begat in him some desires to reform his vicious course of life; and accord- ingly he went to church twice a-day, with a great deal of seeming devotion, but still was not able tof.)rsake his sins. One day being at play with his companions, he says, *' A voice suddenly darted from heaven into my seal, say- " ing, AVilt thou leave thy sins and go to iieaven, or have ** thy sins and go to hell .'■'''' This put him into such a con- sternation, that he immediately lei t his sport, and looking lip to heaven, thought lie saw, witli the eyes of his under- standing, the Lord Jesus looking down upon him, as highly S B U N Y A N. liighly displeased with him, and threatening him "with some grievous punishment for his ungodly practices. At another time, wiiilst he was throwing out oaths, he was severely reproved by a woman, who was herself a notorious sinner, and who told him ' he was the ugliest fellow for * swearing that ever she heard in all her life; that he was. * able to spoil all the youth of the town, if they came but * into his company."" This repi'oof, coming from a woman whom he knew to be very wicked, filled him with secret shame, and wrought more with l)im than many that had been given him before by those that were sober and godl)^ and made him, from that time, very much refrain from it. A little time after this, he fell into company with a poor man that made a profession of religion, whose conversation of religion and of the Scriptures so affected ?.Ir. Bunyan, that he began to read the Bible, and with some degree of pleasure, especially the historical part ; for as yet he Avas ignorant both of the corruption and depravity of his na- ture, and of the want and worth of Jesus Christ. This however produced an outward reformation in his life and conversation, and he set the commandments before him as his guide to lieaven ; which, while he thought he kept, he had comfort, but when he broke any of them, his conscience was filled with guilt and horror : neverthe- less, by a partial repentance, and promises to God of fu- ture amendment, he cpiieted himself, thinking then (to use his own words) that he pleased God " as well as any man *' in England." In this state he continued about a year, his neighbours all wondering at his reformation, and they who formerly spoke ill of him, now began to praise and commend him, both to his face and behind his back ; which as he knew nothing yet of Christ, nor the nature of grace, nor faith, nor hope, only filled him with pride and hvpocrisy, " I was all this while (says he) igno- *' rant of Jesus Christ, and going about to establish my *' own righteousness, and had perished therein, had not *' God, in mercy, shewed me more of my state by na- " ture." His father brought him up to his own business, which was that of a tinker : And going one day into Bedford to seek work, he heard three or four poor women sitting to- gether, conversing of the things of God. He drew near to them, to hear what they said, for by this time he was a great talker, particularly about himself, in matters of religion ; " but (says he) I heard but understood not, for *' they were far above ray reach." Tljeir talk wag about B U N Y A N. 9 •bout the new birth, the work of Gon in their liearts, liow they were convinced of iheir n)iserab!e siaie by nature, and how Goo had visited tlioir souls wilij hLs love in the Lord Jesus, and with what Scripture promises ihcv had been relreshed, comforted, and supj)orted against the temptations of the devil: They furtlier spoive of the de- vices of Satan, how they had been borne up under his asr saults, and delivered out of their allHotions; and also Oi the deceitful ness, wickedness, and unbelieiof tiieir luarts; loathing and abhorring themselves and their own i-ii;hle- ousness as filtiiy and insufficient to do them any good. *' And methought (says he, using an expression ot' the *' most beautiful simplicity) they spake as thougii you did " make them speak;" and all " with sucii pleasantness of " Scripture language, and suc!i appearance of grace, that " they seemed to me as if they iiad found a new world, and " were people that dwelt alone, and were not to be reckoned *' among the nations. Numb, xxiii. 9." IJ|)on this his heart misgave him, and he doubted much of the goodness of his religious state, being conscious that in all his thoughts about religion and salvation, tiie new birth never entered into his mind, and that he was an entire stranger to the treachery of his own wicked heart, the nature of Satan's temptations, and how they were to be resisted, and of the comfort of God's gracious promises in the gospel. How- ever, the deep and lasting impressions made on his mind by the conversation of these good people, led him fre- quently to discourse with them on the above important subjects, by which means his heart was so lar changed, that he cordially embraced the truth on conviction of Scripture authority, and meditated therein continually with great delight: Yea, his whole soul became so fixed on eter- nity, and the things of tiie kingdom of Gon, that neither pleasures nor profits, persuasions nor threats, could move him from liis stedfastness. " Although 1 mav speak it *' with shame, yet (says he) it is a certain truth, that it " would have been as difficult for me to have taken my " mind from heaven to earth, as I have found it often " since to get it again from earti) to heaven." After this season of illumination and rejoicing, he en- dured many severe conflicts; without were fightings, and within were fears. One of the first trials of his t'aiih and constancy w^s that of some professors hoiding the truth in unrighteousness, viz. the Ranters, whose gospel-liberty was mere licentiousness : But he, being designed of (ion for better things, was kept from these enormities and the vile iO B U N Y A N. yile delusions of this truly antlnomian sect, though in th^ prime and vigour of his life. But the Bible was particu- larly precious to him in those days, and he read and me- ditated in it with more than ordinary delight and pleasure, praying earnestly that he might not l>e left to lean to his own undei'standing, but might know the tiuth, and be kept in the way to life and glory. After many severe and uncommon spiritual conflicts, which he relates at large in his treatise, entitled " Grace " abounding, S:c." he was led, at lengtli, to open his mind to some religious people in Bedford, and particularly to those whose discourse he had overlieard at his first setting out. They made his case known to Mr. Gilford, their minister, who, after conversing with him and hoping him to be sincere, invited him to attend the society meetings held at his own house. Plere he heard of the Lord's deal- ings with others, and the instructions and encouragement Mr. Gifford gave them from time to time, by which he received further conviction, and saw more and more of the inward vanity, deceitfulness, and wretchedness of his own heart : Insomuch that he thought he grew worse and •worse, and was farther from conversion than ever, and was exceedingly discouraged. Yet sometimes this Scrip- ture afforded him comfort: I gi'rded thee, though thou hast ?iot known me, Isa. xlv. 5. He had such a view of his original and Inward pollution, that he was more loathsome in his own eyes than a toad, and thought lie was so in the sight of God. At this sight of his vileness, he Avas al- most driven to despair, being ready to conclude, that such a condition was inconsistent with a state of grace, and that he was forsaken of Gon, and given up to the de- vil and a reprobate mind. In this state he continued for several years. He remarks, that while he was thus exercised with the workings of corruptions and the fear of damnation, he was surprised at two things ; the one was, to see old people I'.unting after the tl'.ings of this life, as if they should live here always; the ot'ier was, to find professors distressed and cast down when they met with outward losses, as of a husband, wife, child, &c. ^c. " What seeking (says lie) " after carnal things by some, and what grief in others for ^ the loss of them; whereas if I knew but that my soul *' was in a good condition, how rich sliould I esteem my- ** self, though blessed but with bread and water : I should " reckon these but small afllictions and should bear them '' as little burdens: But a wounded spirit who can bear !" In B U N Y A N. II In tills state he remained a great while, lamenting that God had made him a man, and not a beast or bird or fish, whose condition he coveted, because they were not, like himself, obnoxious to the wrath of God, and to be sent to hell when they died. But when Gor>*'s time to comfort him was come, he providentially heard a sermon front Sol. Song, iv. 1, Behold thou art fiir, my love, behold thou artfc.ir. The minister made these two words, my love, the subject of his sermon; from whicli, after he had a lit- tle opened his text, he discoursed on tlie following heads: * 1. That the church, and so every saved soul is Christ's ' love, when loveless. 2. Chrisfs love, without a cause. * 3. Christ's love, though hated of the world. 4. Christ''s ' love, when under temptation and desertion. 5. Christ's * love, from first to last.' That wliicli more particularlv suited his case was the fourth head ; and, in the applica- tion of which, in these words, he foui'd his heart filled with hope and comfort, and belief that his sins would now be forgiven. ' If it be so (said the preacher) that the saved * soul is in Christ's love when under tenijUation and deser- ' tion, then, poor tempted soul, when thou art assaulted ' and afflicted with temptations, and the hidings of thy Sa- ' viour's face, yet think on these two words, mr/ love sriLi,.'' In further meditating on this discourse, he exj>ericnced such a display of God's mercy and love, that he could scarce contain himself; he thought he could have told of God's goodness to the very birds of tbe nir, it' they could have understood him, saying, " Surely I shall not forget this forty years hence ; but, alas, (adds he) within less than forty days I began to question all again." Ho^vever he was enabled to go on, believing that it was a true ma- nifestation of grace unto his soul; notwithstanding at times he had lost much of the life and savour of it. 5 As Mr. Bunyan was designed in a very eminent degree to speak to others in cases of conscience, he was led on in such a manner, as to be richly furnished from his own experience to encourage professors of all descriptions in the way of salvation; and he has explained at large, in his treatise before-mentioned, the grounds he had to be- lieve, that God had appointed him to testify of his grace to others. Accordingly, after some private trials, he ventured openly to preach the gospel, in which (he says) lie was attended with seals and success far beyond his ex- pectation. After he had publicly preached f )r five or six years be- fore the Kestoration, on the twelfth of November I'JOOy he IS B U N Y A N. he was apprehended by one Justice Wingate, at or near Hariington, in Bedfordshire, and committed to prison, where were above sixty dissenters. Here, with only two books — the Bible and the book of martyrs, he employed his time for twelve yeai's and a half in preaching to, and praying with his fellow-prisoners, in writing several of his works, and in making tagged laces for the support of him- self and his family. Indeed, his wife (whom he had mar- ried about two years before, having buried his former) made every effort to procure his release both at London and at Bedford assizes, but in vain. In the last year of his imprisonment, upon the death of their former pastor, tiie baptist congregation at Bedford, to whom he was joined, unanimously chose him for their pastor, Dec. 12, 1671. Bishop Burlow of Lincoln, procured his enlarge- jnent; after which he travelled into various parts of Eng-- land to visit and confirm his brethren ; and this procured him the titie of Bishop Bunyan. In the reign of James the II. upon the famous declaration for liberty of con- science, Mr. Bunyan, by the voluntary contributions of his friends, built a public meeting-house at Bedford, and preached constantly to large congregations. He likewise frequently came to London and preached among the non- conformists there: And, it is said, the learned Dr. John Owen was often one of his hearers. He died at his lodgings on Snow Hill, London, of a fever, contracted by a journey to Reading in very bad weather, where he had been to make up a dispute be- tween a young gentleman and his father. This was ou the thirty-first of August 16SS, in the sixtieth year of his age. His body was interred in Bunhill Fields. He had, by his first wife, four children, one of which, whom he tenderly loved, was blind. His second wife siirvived him but four years, dying in 109^. He appeared in countenance (says the continuatorof his life) to l)e of a stern and rough temper, but in his con- versation he was mild and affable; not given to loquacity, or much discourse in company, unless some uruth, a thing which fell out to many others besides him, who, but for this accident, had never disturbed themselves about so knotty a question. In the year 1G4-0 he was invited to Kidderminster by the bailiff and feoffees, to preach there for an allowance of sixty pounds a-year, which he accepted ; and applied himself with such dili- gence to his sacred calling, as had a very great effect, in a short time, upon a very dissolute people. He continued there about two years before the civil war broke out, and fourteen afterwards, with some interruption. He sided with the parliament, and recommended the protestation they directed to be taken, to the people. This exposed him to some inconveniences, which obliged him to retire to Gloucester, but lie was soon invited back to Kidder- minster, w^iither he returned. His stay there was not long, but begiiming to consider with himself where he might remain in sa/'ety, he fixed upon Coventry, and ac- cordingly went •thither. There he lived peaceably and comfortably, preached once every Lord's day to the garrison, and once to the town's people, for which he took nothing but his diet. After Naseby fight, when all things seemed to favour the parliament, he, by ad- vice of the ministers at Coventry, became chaplain to Colonel Whalley's regiment, and in this quality he was present at several sieges, but never in any engagement, ko that there was not the least grounds for that scan- dalous story, invented and trumpeted about by his ene- mies, viz. that he killed a man in cold blood, and robbed him of a medal. He took all imaginable pains to hinder the progress of the sectaries, and to keep men firm in just notions of religion and government, neVer deviating from what he judged in his conscience to be rights for the sake of making court to any, or from baser motives of fear. But he was separated from the army in the beginning of the year 1657, in a very critical juncture, just when they fell olF from the parliament, Mr. Baxter being at that time seized with a bleeding at the nose, in so violent a manner, that he lost the quantity of a gallon at once, Avhich obliged him to retire to Sir Thomas Rouso's, where he continued for a long time in a very languishing state of health, which hindered him from doing that ser- vice to his country, that otherwise, from a man of his principles and moderationj might have been expected. He BAXTER. 21 He afterwards returned to Kidderminster, and resumed the work of his ministry. He hindered, as far as it was iu his power, the talcing of the. covenant, he preached and spoke publicly against the engagement, and therefore it is very unjust to brand him, as some have done, as a tnmi- peter of rebellion.* When the army was marchinvr to oppose King Charles II. at the head of the Scots, Mr. Baxter took pains, both by speaking and writing, to re- mind the soldiers of their duty, and to dissuade them from fighting against their brethren and fellow-subjects. Alter this, when Cromwell assumed the supreme power, he was not afraid to express his disaffection to his tyranny, thout^h he did not think himself obliged to preach politics from the * To enter into all the ifross things that have been said of Mr. Baxter by his enemies, would take up mare room than we have eniploytiJ in writing his life. It is sutficient to note their uanies, and the pieces they have wrote, viz. ]Mr. Craudon in his book against Mr. Baxter's Aphorisms; Mr. Young's Vindida- Anti-Baxteiiatup, 16^6, l^mo; Mr. Long's Review of Mr. Baxter's Life, 1697, 8vo. adding', as a spi-ci- men, the followiug speech put into the mouth of I'resident Bradshaw in hell, .-who, in deciding on the merits of Mr. Hobb«, Mr. NeviJi, and Mr. Baxter, is made to speak of the last thus : ' It he, whose * faith is faction, whose religion is rebellion, whose prayers are spells, ' whose piety is magic, whose purity is the gall of bitterness, who * can cant and recant, and cant again; who can transform himself into * as many shapes as Lucifer, (who is never more a devil than when an ' angel of light) and, like him, (who, proud of his ptrfections, first re - •* belled in heaven) proud of his imaginary graces, pretends to rule ' and govern, and consequently rebel on earth, be the greatest politi- * cian ; then make room for Mr. Baxter: Let him come in, and be ' crowned with wreaths of serpents and chaplets of adders: Let his * triumphant chariot be a pulpit drawn on the wheels of cannon, by a * brace of wolves in sheeps' clothing : Let the ancient fathers of the * church, whom out of ignorance he has vililied; the reverend and learn- * ed prelates, whom out of pride and malice he has abused, t)elied, and * persecuted; the most righteous king, whose murder, (1 speak my own ' and his sense) contrary to the light of all religion, laws, reason, ^.ud ' conscience, he has justified, then denied, then again and again jus- ' tided: let them all be bound in chains, to attend his infernal triumph * to his Saints' Everlasting Rest. Then make room, scribes and plia- * risees, hj'pocrites, ai heists, and politicians, for the greatest rebel ou * earth, and next to him that fell from heaven.' But, it is rertaia that no man made more warm pretensions to loyalty ih;'.n Mr. Baxter did, who ha' ihe courage to tell the Protector, Cromwell, to his face, that the old i uglish monarchy was a blessing. He was at the de.-.irc of King Charles II. appointed one of his chaplains, and had some share of royal favour as long as the king lived. But what seems to put this matter out of all question is this, that, after the severe treatment lie met with in the reign of King James, which might easily have soured his spirit, and after the Revolution, wlicn he was under no necessity of keep- ing terms, he disclaimed all such sentiments, declaring positively, that throughout the whole civil war he was always for the king and parlia- Hient, and never against the kind's person, [iower, or prerogativtf. 22 BAXTER. the pulpit. Once iiideed lie preached before Cromwell, but neither did lie in tliat sermon flatter, nor, in a confe- rence l)e had with him aiterwards, did he express either aflVction to his person, or submission to his power, but quite the contrary.* He came to London a little before the deposition of Richard Cromwell. At that time Mr. Baxter was looked upon as a friend to monarchy, and with reason, for, being chosen to preach bei'ore the parlia- ment on ihe 3'Jlh of April 1650, which was the dav pre- ceding that on which they voted the king's return, he maintained, that loyalty to their prince was a thing es- sential to all true protestants, of whatever persuasion. About the same time likewise he was chosen to preach a thanksgiving sermon at St. Paul's, for General IMonk's success; and yet souie have been so bold as to maintain, that he attempted to dissuade his excellency from con- curring in, or rather from bringing about, that happy change. * The Earl of Warwick and the Lord Broghill were the persons who drew him to preach btfore the Protector, and the words he made thoice of were these: hoiv I beecch you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesvs Christ, that y all speak the same ihin^, and that there be no fit- visions among yiu, but that ye be perfectly joined together in the same mind^ and in the s.nne judgment. He levelled his discourse aaainst the divi- sions and distractions of the church, shewing how mischievous a thing it was for politicians to maintain such divisions f.'r their own ends, that they might fish in troubled waters, and keep the church by its divisions in a state of weakness, lest it should be able to ofi'end them. A while after Cromwell sent to speak with him, and when he came he liad only three of his chief men with him. He began a long and te- dious speech to him of God's providence in the change of the govern- iiient, and how Gor> had owned it, and what great things had been done at home and abroad, in the peace with Spain and I^olland, &c. When he had continued speaking thus al)out an hour, Mr. Baxter told him, it was too great condescension to acquaint him so fully with all those matters, which nere above him; but tiiat the honest people of the land tO'k their ancient monarchy to be a blessing and not an evil, and humbly craved his patience, that he might ask him how they had for- feited that blessing, and unto whom this forfeiture was made? Upon that question he was awakened into some passion, and told him there ■was no forfeiture, but (jod had changed it as pleased him ; and then he let fly at the parliament, wliich thwarted him, and especially, by name at four or live members, which were Mr. Baxter's chief acquaintance, vho'u he presumed to defend against the Protector's passion. And thus •were four or fi\e hours spent, though to little purpose. Some time afterwards the Protector sent for him again, under pretence of asking his judgment about liberty of conscience, at which time also he made a long tedious -Speech himself, which took up so much time, that Mr. Baxter desired to ofler bis sen iments in writing, which be did ; but, he says, he questions whether C'mtnwtll read them. We have also a cha- racter of Croinwt 11 drawn by the pen of our Author, which, though to., long to be inserted here, is one of the most just and impartial that we iiave of tlj^t very extraordinary man. BAXTER. 23 change. After the Restoration lie became one of the King's chaplains in ordinary, preached beiore liini once, and had frequent access to his royal person, and was al- ■\vays treated by him with peculiar reij)ect. At the Savoy conferences, Mr. i>axter assisted as one of the commissioners, and then drew u|) the reformed liturgy. He was offered the bishoprie of Hereford, by the Lord Chancellor Clarendon, which he refused to accept, for reasons which he rendered in a respectful letter to his Lordship. Yet even then he would willingly have re- turned to his bejoved town of Kidderminster, and have preached in the low state of a curate, lint this was then refused him, thougli the Lord Chancellor took pains to have him settled there as he desired. When he found himself thus disappointed, he preached occasionally about the city of London, sometimes for Ur. Rates at St. Uunstan's in the AVest, and sometimes in other places, having a licence from Bishop Sheldon, upon his sub- scribing a promise, not to preach any thing against the doctrine or ceremonies of the church. The last time he preached in [)ublic was on the 1.5th day of May 16C2, a farewell sermon at Blackfriars. He afterwards retired to Acton in IMiddlesex, where he went every Lord's day to the public church, and spent the rest of the day with his fa- mily, and a few poor neighbours that came in to him. In 1605, when the plague raged, he went to Richard Hamp- den's, Lsq. in Buckinghamshire, and returned to Acton when it was over. He staid there as long as the act against conventicles continued in forte, and when that was expir- ed, he had so many auditors that he wanted room. Here- upon, by a warrant .-signed by two justices, he was eom- mitted for six months to New Prison jail, Imt got an habeas corpus, and was released aiul removed to Totteridge near Barneto* At this place he lived quietly and with- out * In this affair, as Mr. Baxter met with some hardship in the coin- jnitment, so he expencncril the sincerity of many of his hesi fiicnih, wiio on this occasion stuck by him very steadily. As Iip ^^as ciriied to prison, he called upon Serjeant Founlain to ask his advire, who, when he had perused the mitliwtis, g:ave it as his opinion, that he niight he discharged from his imprisonment by law. The K.irl of Orrery, the Karl of .Manchester, the li;irl of Arrni?;ton, and tlie Duke of Huckinrr- ham, mentioned the aflair to the Kinc, uho was pleased to >eiid Sir John Babcr to liim, to let him know, that though his majesty "as not willing to relax the law, vet he would not be offended, if by any appli- cation to the courts in Westminster Hall he could procure hi>i liberty; upon this a habeas coTjms was demanded at the bar of the common-pleas, and granted. The judjres were clear in their opinion, that the miltimus was insufficient, and thereupon discharsed him. This exasperated the iusiiec' S4 BAXTER. out disturbance. The king was resolved to make some concessions to tlie dissenters in Scotland, and the Duke of Lauderdale, by his order, acquainted Mr. Baxter, that if he would take this opportunity of goin^ into that king- dom, he should have what prffermeut he would there ; which he declined on account of his own weakness and the circumstances of his family. His opinion however was taken on the scheme for settling church disputes in that country. In 1671, ^Ir. Baxter lost the greatest part of his fortune by the shutting up of the king's exchequer, in which he had a thousand pounds. Aftej- tlje indulgence in 1672, he returned into the city, and was one of the Tuesday lecturers at Pinner's Hall, and had a Friday lec- ture at Fetter Lane ; but on the Lord's days, he for some time preached only occasionally, and afterwards more stat- edly m St. James's market-house, where in 167 1 he had a wonderful deliverance, by almost a miracle, from a crack in the floor. He was apprehended as he was preaching his lecture at Mr. Turner's, but soon released, because the warrant was not, as it ought to have been, signed by a city justice. The times seeming to grow more favour- able, he built a meeting-house in Oxendon Street, where lie preached but once before a resolution was taken to .surprise and send him to the county jail on the Oxford act, which misfortune he luckily escaped ; but the person who preached for him was committed to the Gatehouse, and continued there three months. Having been kept out of his new meeting-house a whole year, he took another in Swallow Street, but was likewise prevented from using that, a guard being fixed there for many Sundays together, to hinder him from coming into it. On Mr. Wadsworth's dying, Mr. Baxter preached to his congregation in South- wark for many months. When Dr. Llyod succeeded Dr. Lampiugh in St. Martin's parish, Mr. Baxter made him an offer of the chapel he had built in Oxendon Street, for public worship, which was very kindlv accepted. In 1682, justices who committed him, and therefore they made a new miilimus, in order to have him sent to the county jail of Newgate, which he avoid- ed by keeping out of tiie way. The whole of this persecution is said to 'have been owins; to the particular pique of Dr. 15runo Hives, Dean of Windsor and of Wolverhampton, rector of Haselly and of Acton, and one of the King's chaplains in ordinary. The reason that he pushed this matter so far was, because Mr. Baxter had pnached in his parish of Acton, which he fancied some \va3' reflected upon hiin, because Mr. Baxter had always a large audience, though in truth this was in a great measure owing to tiie imprudence of the dean, wliose curate was a weak man, and too great a frequenter of alehouses. BAXTER. 25 1682, he suffered more severely than he had ever done on account of his nonconformity. One day he was suddenly surprized in his house by many constables and ollic-ers, who apprehended him upon a warrant to seize his person, for coming within five miles of a cojporation, producin<»- at the same time five more warrants, to distrain for one hundred and ninety-five pounds for five sermons. Though he was much out of order, being but. just risen from his bed, where he had been in extremity of pain, he was con- tentedly going wuth them to a justice, to be sent to jail, and left his house to their will. iJut Dr. Thomas Cox, meeting him as he was going, forced him again into his bed, and went to five justices and took his oath, that he could not go to prison without danger of death. Upon this the justices delayed till they had consulted the king, who consented that his imprisonment should be for that time forborne, that he might die at hcune. But they exe- cuted their warrants on the books and goods in the house, though he made it appear they were none of his, and they sold even the bed which he lay sick upon. Some friends paid them as much money as they were appraised at, and he repaid them. And all this was without Mr. Baxter"'s liaving the least notice of any accusation, or receiving any summons to appear and answer for himself, or ever seeing the justices or accusers ; and afterwards he was iu constant danger of new seizures, and thereupon he was forced to leave his house, and retire into private lodgings. Things continued much in the same way during the year 16S3, and Mr. Baxter remained in great obscurity, however, not without receiving a remarkable testimony of the sincere esteem, and great confidence, which a person of remarkable piety, though of another j)ersuasion, had towards him : The Rev. ]\Ir. Thomas ?.Iayot, a beneficed clergyman in the church of England, who had devoted his estate to charitable uses, gave by his last will £600 to be distributed by IMr. Baxter to sixty poor ejected ministers, adding, that he did it not because they were nonconfor- mists, but because many such were poor and pious. But tlie king's attorney. Sir Robert Sawyer, sued lor it in the chancery, and the Lord-keeper, North, gave it all to the king. It was paid into the chancery by order, and, as Providence directed it, there kept safe, till Xing William the Third ascended the throne, when the commissioners of the great seal restored it to the use for which it was intended by the deceased, and Mr. Baxter disj)osed of it accordingly. In the following year, IGSI, IMr. Baxter ° -^ ^ fell 26 BAXTER. fell into a very bad state of health, so as to be scarce able to stand. He was in this condition, when the justices of peace tor thecounty of Middlesexgranted a warrant against him, in order to his being bound to his good behaviour. They got into his house, but could not immediately get at hiiii, Mr. Baxter being in his study, and their warrant not impowering them to break open doors Six consta- bles, however, were set to hinder him from getting to his bed-chand)er, and so, by kee))ing him from tbod and sleep, they carried their point, and took him away to the sessions house, where he was bound in the penalty of four hundred pounds to keep the peace, and was brought up twice afterwards, though he kept his bed the greatest part of the time. In the beginning of the year 1685, Mr. Bax- ter was committed to the King"'s Bench prison, by a war- rant from the Lord Chief Justice Jefferies, for his para- phrase on the New Testament, and tried on the 18th of May in the same year in the court of King's Bench, and found guilty, and on the 29th of June following received a very severe sentence *. In 1686, the king, by the me- diation * This trial of Mr. Haxter was by much the most remarkable trans- action ill iiis life ; and therefore;, though we by no means af.'ect lonj cita luns, yet, in such a case as this, we are under a necessity i)f statinsj things from a person who has given us tiie fairest account of them, for the sake of authority. On tiie Gth of iVlay, being the first day of Easter 'I'ei in, J685, Mr. Baxter appear? d in the court of Kind's Bench, and Mr. At- torney declared he would file an information against him. On the l4tLi the defendant pleaded not guilty, and on the iS'h, Mr. Baxter being mucli indisposed, and desiring farther tiine than to the S'Ub, which was the day a]iiioinred for.tlie trial, he moved by hi* cuiiisel iliat it mi^bt be pgt oft ,• on which occasion the Chief .Justice answered an; the bishop, his ordinary; but if not, he ' humbly conceived the doctrine was inuocent and jiistiliable, setting * aside the inunendos, for -which there was no colour, there bemjc no ' antecedent to refer them to. (i. e. no bishop or clergy of the church ' of F.ngland iianud.) He said the bo"k acciised. i. e. " The Coimiieiit •' on the New Testament,'' contained many eternal truths; but the' «ho * drew the inforiiiali :n were the libellers, in applying to the prelates of * the cliurch of Finsland, tho^e severe things which were written coii- * cerniiig sume prelates who deserved the character^ which he pave. My ' Lord (says he), I humbly conceive the bishops Mr. Baxter speaks of, * as your Lordship, if you have read church-history, must cuntess, were ' the plagues of the church and of the world.' Mr. Wallop, says the * Lord Chief Justice, I observe you are in ail these dirty causes ; and were ' it not for you gentlemen of the long robe, wlo should have more wit ' and honesty than to support ami hold up these factious knaves by the ' chin, we should not be at the pass we are.' ' My Lord, says Mr. Wal- ' lop, I humbly conceive, that the jiassagfs accused are natural deduc- * tions from the text.' ' You humbly conceive, says JttlVries, and I * humbly conceive : .Swear him, swear him.' ' My Lord, says he, under ' favour, I am counsel for the defendant; and, if I umlersland either ' Latin or I'lnglish, "the inf irmalion now brought again-t Mr. Bixter ' upon such a slight ground, is a greater reflection upon the church of ' England, than any thing contained in the book he is accused for.' Says Jed'eries to him, ' Sometimes you humbly conceive, and some- * times you are very positive: You talk of your ^kill in eliurch-history, ' and of your understanding Latin and Knglish ; 1 think I understand * something of them as well as you ; but, in short. I must tell you, that * if you do not understand your duty better, I shall teach it you.' Upon which Mr. Wallop sal down. Mr. Rotheram urged, ' that if * Mr. Baxtei's book had sharp reflections upon the cluirch of Koine by ' name, but spake well of tht prelates of the church of Kngland, it * was to be presumed that the sharp reflections were intended only ' against the prelates of the church of Rome' The Lord Chief Justice 28 BAXTER. ciseof his ministry, as assistant to Mr. Silvester, and thougU no man was better qualified than he, for managing the public affairs of his party, yet he never meddled witli them, nor had the least to do with those addresses which were presented by some of that body to King James II. on his indulgence. After his settlement in Charter-House Yard, he continued about four years and a half in the exercise of public duties, till he became so very weak as to said, * Baxter was an enemy to the name and thing, the office and * person of bishops.' Rorheram added ' that Baxter frequently at- * tended divine service, went to tlie sacrament, and persuaded others to ' do so too, as was certainly and publicly kno^Vn ; and had, in the ' very book so charged, spoken very moderately and honourably of * the bishops of the chun h of F-ntland. Mr. Baxter added, •' My " Lord, I have been so mod rate with respect to the church of England, *' tliat I have incurred the censure of many of the dissenters upon that " account.'' * Baxter for bishops, says .lefferi'-s, that's a merry con- * ceit indeed : Turn to ir, turn to it.' Upon this Rotheram turned to a place wiiere it is said, ' That great respect is due to those truly called ' to be bishops among us,' or to that purpose. ' Ay, saith JeiTeries, * tbis is your Presbyterian cant; truly called to be bishops; that is * himself, and such rascals, called to be bishops of Kidderminster * and other such places: liishops set apart by such factious, snivelling * Presbyterians as himself; a Kiddermmster bishop he means : Ac- * cording to the saying of a late le.irned author, and every parish shall ' maintain a tithe-pi^- metropi'litan.' Mr. Baxter, beginning to speak again, says he to him, ' Pichard, Richard, dost thou think we will ' hear thee poison the court, &c. Richard, thou art an old fellow, * an old knave ; thmi hast written books enough to load a cart, every ' one as full of sedition tl might say treason) as an egg is full of meat. ' Hadst thou been whipped out of thy writing trade forty years ago, ' it had been happy. Thou pretendest to be a preacher of the gospel ' of peace, and thou hast one foot in the grave; it is time for thee to ' besrm to think what acciiunt thou intendest to give. But leave thee * to thyself, and I see thou wilt go on as thou hast begun, but, by the * grace of God, I will look after thee. 1 know thou hast a mighty ' party, and I see a great many of the brotherhood in corners, waiting * to see what will become of their mighty don, and a doctor of the ' party (lookiog to Dr. Bates) at your elbow ; but, by the grace of ' Almighty God, Til crush you all. Mr. Rotheram sitting down, Mr. Aitwood be^an to shen-, that not one of tlie passages mentioned in the information ought to be strained to that sense, which was put upon them by the innuendos, they being more natural when taken in a milder sense, nor could any one of them be applied to tlie prelates of the church of Kngland witliout a very forced construction. To evidence this he would have .read some of the text: But Jetferies cried out, • You ^hall not draw me into a conventicle with your anno- ' taiions, nor your snivelling parson neither.' ' My Lord, said Attwood, ' I conceive this to l»e expressly within Roswell's case lately before * your Lordship.' * You conceive, says Jefferies, you conceive amiss ; * it is not.' * My Lord, says Mr- Attwood, that I may use the best ' authority, permit me to repeat yom" Lordship's own words in that ' case* BAXTER. 29 to be forced to keep his chamber. Even then he ceased not to do good, so far as it was in his power : and as lie spent his life in taking pains, so to the last moment of it he directed his Christian brethren by the light of a good example. He departed this life December 8, KJOl. A few days after his corpse was interred in Christ Church, being attended to thti grave by a large company of all ranks and qualities, especially ministers, and amongst them * case.' ' No, yoii shall not,' says he. * You need not speak, for yon aie * an author already, though yon speak and write impertinently.' Says iMtwood, * I cannot lielp that, my Lord, ii my talent be no better; hut * it is my duty to do my best for my clieiit.' Jeft'<'ii<-s thereupon went on, inveii;hing against what Attwood had published : And Alt- wood justified it to be in defence of tlie Knti'lisli constitution, declaring that he never disowned any thing that he had written. Jefleries several times ordered him to bit down, but he still went on : ' My Lord,' says he, * I have matter of law to offer for ray client;' and he proceeded to cite several cases, wherein it had been adjud^Td, that words ouyht to be taken in the milder sense, and not to be strained by innuendos. ' Well,' ^ays JelTeiies, when he had done, ' you have had your say.' Mr. Williams .ind Mr. Pbipps said nothing, for they saw it was to no purpose. At length says Mr. Baxter himself, " My Lord, I think I can clearly an- " swer all that is laid to my charge, and 1 siiall do it briedy. The '' sum is contained in these few papers, to which I shall add a little by " testimony:'' But he would not hear a word. At length the Chief Justice summed up the matter in a long and fulsome harangue. ' It ' is notoriously known (says he) there has been a design to ruin the * king and the nation. The old game has been renewed, and this has * been the main incendiary. He is as modest now as can be; but time * was, when no man was so ready to bind your kings in chains, and ' your nobles in fetters of iron; and to your tents, O Israel. Cen- ' tiemen, for Goo's sake, don't let us be gulled twice in an age,' &c. And when he concluded, he told the jury, ' I'hat if they in then con- ' sciences believed he meant the bishops and clergy of the church of * England, in the passages which the information referred to, they must ' find him guilty, and he could mean no men else; if not they must ' find hitn not guilty.' When he had done, says .Mr. Baxter to him, •• Does your Lordship think any jury will pretend to pass a verdict " upon me, upon such a trial?" * I'll warrant you, Mr. Baxter,' says he, ' don't you trouble yourself about that.' The jury immediately laid their heads together at the bar, and found him guiliy. As he was going from the bar, Mr. Baxter told my Lord Chief Justice, who had so loaded him with reproaches, and yet continued them, that " A " predecessor of bis had had other thoughts of him:" I'pon which he replied, ' That there was not an honest man in I'.ngland but what took * him for a great knave.' He had subpoenaed several clergymen, who appeared in court, but were of no use to him, through the violence of the Chief Justice. The trial being over, Sir Henry A'hurst led Mr. Baxter through the crowd, (I mention it to his honour) and conveyed him away in his coach. On June the 29th following, he had ju(li;rnent given against him. He was fined five hundred marks, to lie in prison till h« paid it, and be bound to his good behaviour for seven years. Calamy'-- Abridgenaent, Vol. I. p. 568—372. 30 BAXTER. them not a few of tlie established church, who very pru- dently paid this last tribute of respect to the memory of a great and good man, whose labours deserved much from true Christians of all denominations. He was a man, to speak impartially from the consideration of his writings, who had as strong a head, and as sound a heart, as any of the age in which he liv^d. He was too con- sciei5tious to comply from temporal motives, and his charity was too extensive to think of recommending him- self to popular applause by a rigid behaviour. These sen- timents produced such a practice as inclined some to be- lieve he had a religion of his own, which was the reason that when Sir John Gayer bequeathed a legacy by will to men of moderate notions, he could think of no better ex- pression than this, that they should be of Mr. Baxter"'s religion.* We need not wonder that a person so little addicted to any party should experience the bitterness of all, and in truth, no man was ever more severely treated in this respect than Mr. Baxter, against whom more books were written, than against any man in the age in which he lived. His friends, however, were such as the bare repetition of their names might well pass for a panegyric, since it is impossible they could have lived in terms of strict intimacy with any other than a wise and upright raan.-|- But the best testimony of jMr. Baxter's worth may be * sir John Gayer did, by his last will and testament, bequeath a considerable sum of money to persons lately entered into the ministry, and young students for the ministry, with this restriction, that they should be such as were neither for domination nor unnecessary separa- tion, but of Mr. Baxter's principles. His lady, hoins; of the established church, inclined to pay the legacy to such as were within Sir John's description of her own community. Upon this a Chancery suit was commenced, wherein it was proved, to the satisfaction of the court, that Mr. Baxter was a nonconformist; whereupon a decree went in favour of the plaintiffs. This was certainly a very singular case, and much for the honour of Mr. Baxter, since it plainly appears tl)at Sir •Tohn Gayer thought him a man of distinsuislied piety and uncommon moderation ; and, on the other hand, neither church nor dissenters could be prevailed on to part with their right in him, but actually tried it in a court of equity. -|- We have already mentioned many of his court friends, to whom we ought to add the famous Duke of Lauderdale, the Earl of Balcarras, a Scotch nublcman of t!ie name of Lesley, and at the head of the Pres- byterian interest in that kingdom. The great Chief Justice Hale, who honoured him with an intimate friendship, gave a high encomium of his piety and learning to all the judges, when he was in prison on the Oxford act, left him a legacy in his vill, and several large books in bis own hand-writing, on the matter of their conversations ; Alderman As- hurst, Sir John Maynard, Sir James Langharo, Sir Edward Harlev, &c, He BAXTER, 31 in? drawn from his own writings, of which he left behind liini a very large number.* Many indeed have censured them, though it is certain that some of his books met with as general a reception as any that ever were printed; and the judicious Dr. Barrow, whose opinion all com- petent judges will admit, gave tliis judgment upon tlu ui, ' hh practical writings were never mended, his contro- ' versial seldom confuted.'' Thus far we are indebted to the authors of the Biogra- pln'a Bniannica, for what they liave laboiiously digested both from his own life written j)y Mr. Baxter himself, and from the abridgement of it, or additions to it, composed by others. His own life, published from his manuscripts by Mv. Matthew Sylvester, is not only a very iiecessary book to those v.dio would know Mr. Baxter, but to all who would study and understand the history of the times in which Mr. Baxter lived. It seems the most abstracted from party-heat of any book of the kind that ever was written, which seerns the more extraordinary, as few men have suffered greater inconveniences by party. It He was likewise honoured with the correspondence of many foreign di- vines, such as Mr. rininsenius, chaplain to tlie 1-Uoctor i>f Branclenbourg ; Dr. Spencer, chaplain to the Elector of S:ixony ; the celebrated .Monsieur .dmyrald, and many others: .Among whom we ought not to forget Dr. Jolin Tilh)t>.oii, then Dean of St. Paiirs, and afttrwards Archbishop of Cantt rbury. * Dr. Bates tells us, that his books, which for number and variety of matter were sufficient to make a library, contain a treasure i.f controver- sial, casuistical, positive, and practical divinity. Disl)op VVilkins aflirms, thai he has cultivated evi ry subjecl he has handled. Dr. .Simon I'alrick, Bishop of Ely, commends him as a useful and [lious writfr. Rut th BAXTER. 35 * Besides, it will be a means to take away that burden and * odium of affairs, which may lie too heavy on one man's * shouklers, as indeed I tliit)k it did formerly on the bi- * shop's here."* The n;ood doctor thought, that the jud^j- ment of the king's afflicted and enquiring father, would have been of great moment to incline him to that tem- perament : But the king presently replied, ' All that is in * that book is not gospel.' I\Iy Lord C'hancellor prudent- ly moderated in that matter, that the bishops, in weighty causes, should have the assistance of the presbyters. Mr. Baxter considering the state of our affairs in that time, was well pleased with that declaration. He was of Calvin's mind, who judiciously observes, upon our Savi- our's words. That the Son of man shall send forth his angtls^ and I hey shall gather out of his kingdom all things that of- fend: Qui ad extirpandum quiccjuid displicel pro'postere fcs- tinant, untevcrtant Christi judicium, ct ereptum angclis ojfi- cium sibi temcre usurpant* Besides, that detiaration granted such a freedom to conscientious ministers, that were unsatisfied as to the old conformity, that if it had been observed, it had prevented the doleful division that succeeded after. But when there was a motion made in the House of Commons, that the declaration might pass into an act, it was opposed by one of the Secretaries of State, which was a sufficient indication of the king's averseness to it. After the declaration, there were many conferences at the Savoy between the bishops and some doctors of their party, with Mr. Baxter and some other ministers for an agreement, wherein his zeal for peace was most consj)icu- ous ; but all was in vain. Of the particulars that were debated, he has given an account in print. Mr. Baxter after his coming to London, during the time of liberty, did not neglect that which was t!ie prin- cipal exerciseof his life, the preaching the gospel, being always sensible of his duty of saving souls. He preached at St. Dunstan's on the Lord's Days in the afternoon. ^ I remember one instance of his firm faith in the divine providence, and his fortitude when he was engaged in his ministry there. The church was old, and the people were apprehensive of some danger in meeting in it: And while Mv. Baxter was preaching, something in the steeple fell down, and the noise struck such a terror into * Thev th.1t make too much haste to redress at once all ihincs th.U are amiss, auticiiiate the judgment of Clirist, and rashly usurp the offljcoi the aogeU. 36 BAXTER. into the people, that tliey presently, in a "wild disorder, ran out of the cliurch; their eagerness to haste away, put all into a tumult : Mr. Baxter, without visible distur- bance, sat down in the pulpit: After the hurry was over, he resumed his discourse, and said lo compose their minds, " We are in the service of God to prepare our- " selves, that we may be fearless at the great noise of " the dissolving world, K-heu the heavens shall patis aivoT/, '* and the elemenis shall melt with ftrvent heal; the earth also^ " and the works that, are therein, shall be buriit vp^'' 2 Pet. iii. 10, 11, 12, 13, 14. After St. Dunstan's church was pulled down in order to its rebuilding^ he removed to l>lack-Friars, and conti- nued his preaching tiiere to a vast concourse of hearers till the memorable Bartholomew. In the year 1661, a parliament was called, wherein was passed the act of uniformity, that expelled from their public places about two thousand ministers. I will only take notice concerning the causes of that proceeding, that the old clergy iVom wrath and revenge, and the young gentry from their servile compliance with the court, and their distaste of serious religion, were very active to carry on and complete that act. That this is no rash imputation upon the ruling clergy then is evi- dent, not only from their concurrence in pf)ssing that law, for actions have a language as convincing as that of words, but from Dr. Sheldon then Bishop of London, their great leader ; who when the Lord Chamberlain, Manchester, told the king, while the act of uniformity was under debate, ' That he was afraid the terms of it were ' so rigid, that many of the ministers would not comply * with it ;"■ he replied, ' I am afraid they wil].' This act was passed, after the king had engaged his- faith and honour, in his declaration from Breda, to preserve the li- berty of conscience inviolate, which promise opened the way for his restoration ; and after the royalists here had given public assurance, that all former animosities should be buried, as rubbish under the foundation of an uni- versal concord. Mr. Baxter, who was involved with so many ministers in this calamity, and was their brightest ornament, and the best defence of their righteous, though oppressed cause, made two observations upon that act and our ejection. The one was, that the ministers were turned and kept out from the public exercise of their office in that time of their lives that was most fit to be dedicated and em- ployed BAXTER. 57 ployed for the service and glory of God, t!iat is between thirty and sixty years, when their intellfitual and in- strumental faculties were in their vigour. The other was in a letter to me after the death of several bishops, who •were concurrent in passing that act, and expressed no sorrow for it : His words were, " For ought I see, the *' bishops will own tiie turning of us out, at the tribunal •* of Christ, and thither v,e a|)peal." After the act of uniformity had taken its effect, in the ejection of so many ministers, there was sometimes a connivance at the private exercise of their mhiiatry, sometimes public indulgences granted, and often a severe prosecution of them, as the popisii and politic interest of the court varied. AVhen there was liberty, Mr. Ras- ter apj)lied himself to his delightful work, to the great advantage of those who enjoyed his ministry. IJut the church party opposed vehemently the liberty that was granted. Indeed sucIj was their fierceness, that if the dis- senting ministers had been as wise as sei-petits, and os innocent as doves, they could not escape their censures. The pulpit represented them as .seditiously disaffected to the state, as obstinate schismatics ; and often ti»e name of God was not only taken in vain, but in violence, to authorize their hard speeches, and iiarder actions, against them. Some drops of that storm fell upon l\h\ Baxter, who calmly submitted to their injurious dealings. I shall speak of that afterward. In the interval, betv/een his deprivation and his death, he wrote and published most of his books, of which I will give some account. His books, for their number and variety of matter in them, make a library. They contain a treasure of con- troversial, casuistical, positive, and practical divinity. Of them I shall relate the words of one, whose exact judg- ment, joined with his moderation, will give a great value to his testimony ; they are of the very reverend Dr. Wilkins, afterward Bisliop of Chester : He said, That * Mr. Baxter had cultivated every subject he handled ; aud * if he had lived in the primitive times lie had been one of * the fathers of the church."' I shall add what he said with admiration of him at another time, ' That it was * enough for one age to produce such a |)erson as Mr. * Baxter/ Indeed he had such an amplitude in his thoughts, such vivacity of imagination, and solidity and depth of judgment, as rarely meet together. His inquiring mind was freed from the servile dejection and bondage S8 BAXTER. bondage of an implicit faith. He adhered to the Scrip- lures, as the perfect rule of faith, and searched whether the doctrines, received and taught, were consonant to it. This is the duty of every Christian, according to his capacity, especially ministers, and the necessary means to open the mind for divine knowledge, and for the ad^ vancement of tiie truth. He published several books against the papists, with that clearness and strength, as will confound, if not convince them. He said, " He *' only desired armies and antiquity against the papists:" Armies, because of their bloody religion so often exem- plified in England, Ireland, France, and other countries. However they may appear on the stage, they are always the same persons in the tyring-room : Their religion binds them to extirpate heretics, and often over-rules the milder inclinations of their nature : Antiquity, because they are inveigled with a fond pretence to it, as if it were favourable to their cause. But it has been demon- strated by many learned Protestants, that the argument of antiquity is directly against the principal doctrines of popery, as that of the supremacy, of transubstantiation, of image-worship, and others. He has wrote several excellent books against the impu- dent atheism of this loose age. In them he establishes the fundamental principle, upon which the whole fabric of Christianity is built ; that after this short uncertain life, there is a future state of happiness or miser}'" ecpmlly. eternal, and that death is the last irrevocable step into that unchangeable state. From hence it follows, by infallible consequence, that the reasonable creature should prefer the interest of the soul before that of the body, and secure eternal life. This being laid, he proved tlie Christian religion to be the only way of fallen man/s being restored to the favour of God, and ob- taining a blessed immortality. This great argument he manages with that clearness and strength, that none can refuse assent unto it, without denying the infallible prin- ciples of faith, and the evident principles of nature. He also published some warm discourses, to apologize for the preaching of dissenting ministers, and to excite them to do their duty. He did not think that the act of uniformity could disoblige them from the exercise of their office. It is true, magistrates are titular gods, by their deputation and vicegerency, but subordinate and account- able to God above. Their laws have no binding force upon the conscience, but from his command ; and if con-.- trary to his laws, are to be disobeyed. The ministers consecrated BAXTER. SO consecrated to the service of God, are under a moral perpetual obligation of preaching the saving truths of the Gospel, as they have opportunity. There needs no mi- raculous testimony of their commission from heaven, to authorize the doing their ordinary duty. In some points of modern controversy, he judiciously chose the middle way, and advised young divines to fol- low it. His reverence of the divine purity, made him very shy and Jealous of any doctrine that seemed to re- flect a blaim and stain uj)on it. He was a clear asserter of the sovereign freeness, and infallible efficacy of divine grace, in the conversion of souls. In a sermon reciting the words of the covenant of grace, / will put mt/ fear into their hearts, arid they shall not depart from mc, Jer. xxxii. 40. he observes the tenor of it was, " I will, and *' you shall." Divine grace makes the rebellious will obe- dient, l)ut docs not make the will to be no will. * By the illumination of the mind, the will is inclined to obedience, according to the words of our Saviour, All that have heard, and learned of the Father, come unto mc. He preached, that the death of Christ was certainly effectual for all the elect, to make them partakers of grace and glory ; and that it was so far beneficial to all men, that they are not left in the same desperate state with the fallen angels, but are made capable of salvation by the grace of tiie Gospel : Not capable as efficients to convert themselves, but as subjects to receive saving grace. He did so honour the sincerity of God, as entirely to believe his will declared in his word : He would not interpret the pro- mises of the gospel in a less gracious sense than God intended them : Therefore if men finally perish, it is not for want of mercy in God, nor merits in Christ, but for wilful I'efusing salvation. His books of practical divinity have been effectual for more numerous conversions of sinners to God, than any printed in our time : And while the church remains on * If a meaner pen may be allowed to attempt an eclairoissement, this profound subject may be stated thus : — Divine grace sriies freedom to the will, by taking off the weighty prt^udlces and oppressions of sin, which bore it down or carried it away from its own original liberty and happiness. When these fetters were removed, the illummation of grace presented to the will all the beauty of holiness, which could not but close with it both in admiration and desire. Tlius sinners are saved freely by grace, and yet iu their own free-will : not that which is cor- rupted and enslaved, but that which is liberated and renewed. Every reader will remeinber, how analogous this i« to the representation ot the Scriptures, which describes natural men in a stale of bonda^^e uiidci- sin and Satan. 40 BAXTER. on earth, will be of contirual efficacy to recover lost SOU'S. There is a vigorous {>u]se in them that keeps the Reader awake and attentive. His book of " The Saints' " EverJaslJMor Rest,"" was written by him when Vw guishinr^ in the suspen*e of life anc^ death, but has the signatures of his ho]y and vigorous mind. To allure our desires, he unveils the sanctuary above, and discovers the glory and joys of the blessed in the divine presence, by a light so strong and lively, that all th'? glittering vrnitisi ot" this worid vanish in tliat comparison, and a sincere believer will despise them, as one of mature age does the toys and baubles of chi-drcn. To excite cvv fear, he removes the screen, and makes the everlasting fre of hell so visible, and represents the tormenting passioiiK cf the damned in those dreadful colours, that if, du'y con- sidered, would check and controul the unbridled licen- tious appetites of the most sensual wretches. His " Cctil to the Unconverted,"* how smrill in bulk, but how powerful in virtue ! Truth speaks in it v.'ith that authority and efficacy, that it makes the reader lay his hand upon his heart, and find he has a soul and a con- science, though he lived before as if he had none. Ke told some friends, that six brothers were converted by reading that Call ; and that every week he received let- ters of some converted by his books. This he spake with most humble thanicfuiness, that G dd v/ns please'* to use him as an instrument for the salvation of souls. He that was so solicitous for the salvation of otber..,j was not negligent of his own ; but as regular love re- quires, his first care was to prepare himself for heaven. in him the virtues of the active and contemplative lifi were eminently united. H^is time was spent in com- munion with Go]), and in charity to men. He lived above the sensible world, and in solitude and silence con- versed witli God. The frequent and serious meditation of eternal things, was the poweWul means to make his heart holy and heavenly, and frdffi thence his conver- sation. His life was a practical sermon, a drawing example. There was an air of humility and sanctity in liis mortified countenance ; and his deportment was be- coming a stranger upon earth, and a citi:^en of heaven. Though all divine graces, the Iruit of the Spirit, were visible in his conversation, yet some were more eminent. Humility * The pniinent Mr. Eliot of New Ensiland, translated this tract int» the Infiian tongue: A young Indian prince was so lakeu with it, that ke read it with tears, and died with iX in Ins hand. BAXTER. 4t lIumillLy IS to oilier graces, as the morning star is to the sun, that goes belbre it, and follows it in the evening: Humility pre})aies us for the receiving of grace ; God gives grace to the humble : And it foilows the exercise of grace ; 7wt /, says the apostle, Init (he grace of God in me. in Mr. Baxter there v,-as a rare union of suJiiinie know- ledge, and other spiritual excellencies, with the lowest opinion of himself He wrote to one that sent a letter to him full of expressions of honour and esteem : " You '' do admire one you do not know ; knowledge will cure *' the error. The more we know of Gon, the more rea- " son we see to admire him ; but our knowledge of the " creature discovers its imperfections, and lessens our " esteem." To the same person, expressing his venera- tion of him for his excellent gifts and graces, he re- plied with iicat, " I have the remainders of pride in me; " how dare you blow up the sparks of it .''"'"' He desired some ministers, his chosen friends, to meet at his house, and spend a day in j)rayer, for his direction in a mat- ter of moment : Before the duty was begun, he said, " I have desired your assistance at this time, because I " believe God will sooner hear your prayers than " mine." He imitated St. Austin both in his penitential confessions and retractations. In conjunction with humili- ty he had gpeat candour for others. He could willingly bear with persons of different sentiments : He would not ])rostitute his own judgment, nor ravi^jh ai5other''s. He did not over-esteem himself, nor undervalue others. He would give liberal encomiums of many conforming divines.* Ke was severe to himself, but candid in ex- cusing the faults of others. Whereas, the busy enquirer, and censurer of the faults of others, is usually the easy neglecter of his own. Self-denial, and contempt of the world, were shining graces in him. I never knew any person less indulgent to himself, and more indifferent to his temporal interest. The offer of a bishopric was no temptation to him : For his exalted soul despised the pleasure and piofits which others so earnestly desire; he valued not an empty title upon his tomb. His * As lie grave encomiums of others, he had mnrli sni:l to his hor.our by manv. Sir >,aitUe\v Hale spake hithls < f iiis (>iay ami le:irniiip, before all the judges at the talile at Serj-.nH's Inn. ai the tiinr wlifn he was in prisoii upon the Oxford act. And see the ttsijniony of ml,. r« at the close of the account of his life, preiixed to his practical works ia folio. 42 BAXTER. His patience was truly Christian. God does often try his children by afflictions to exercise their graces, to occasion their victory, and to entitle them to a trium- pliant felicity. This Saint was tried by many afflictions. We are very tender of our reputation : His name was obscured under a cloud of detraction. Many slanderous darts were thrown at him. He was charged with schism and sedi- tion. He was accused for his paraphrase on the New Testament, as guilty of disloyal aspersions upon the government, and condemned, unheard, to a prison, where he remained for some years. But he was so far from being moved at the unrighteous prosecution, that he joyfully said to a constant friend, " What could I de- *' sire more of God, than after having served him to my *' power, I should now be called to sufi'er for him ?" One, who had been a fierce dissenter, was afterward rankled with an opposite heat, and very contumeliously in his writings reflected upon Mr. Baxter, who calmly endured his contempt: And when the same person published a learned discourse in defence of Christianity, Mr. Baxter said, " I forgive him all for his writing that book." Indeed he was so much the more truly honourable, as he was thought worthy of the hatred of [some] persons. It is true, the censures and reproaches of others, whom he esteemed and loved, touched him in the tender part. But he, with the great Apostle, counted it a small thing to be judged by man's day. He was entire to his con- science, and independent upon the opinion of others.* But his patience was more eminently tried by his conti- nual pains and languishing. IVIartyrdom is a more easy- way of dying, when the condiat and the victory are finished at once, than to die by degrees every day. His complaints were frequent; but who ever heard an unsub- missive word drop from his lips .'' He was not put out of his patience, nor out of the possession of himself. In his sharp pains he said, " I have a rational patience, and " a believing patience, though sense would recoil." His pacific spirit was a clear chai'acter of his being a iliild of God. How ardently he endeavoured to ce- ment * The Iionouiable Mr. Boyle declared Mr. Baxter to be the fittest man of the age to be a casuist, because he feared no man's displeasure, iior hoped for .tiiv rnan'# prelV-rnient. Bishop lUiniPt, in his life of Sir Matthew Hale, records it, that — ' He held great conversation witli Mr. Baxter, who was his neigh- ' hour at Acton, on whonj he looHed as a person of great devotion and ' piety, and of a very subtle and quick ap[)rehen?ion.'— Burnet's Life, *if;. p. 7 J. . BAXTER. 43 inent the breaches anion^ us, wliich others widen and keep oj)en, is puhlicly kntnvn. He said to a friend, " I *' can as wiilingiy be a nuiiiyr for love as for any article *' of the creed." It is .siiunge lo astoni>hment, that those who agree in the siihstanti. 1 and great points of the re- formed religion, and r/c of difiering sentiments only in things not so clear, nor oi that moment as those wherein they consent, sliould still be opposite parties. Mithinks, the rememl)rance how our divisioPiS lately exposed ns to our watchful- adversary, and were ahnosl t'aUiJ to the in- terest of religion, should conciliate our affections. Our common danger and common deliverance, should j)re))are our spirits for a sincere and firm union : When our sky- was so witliout a glimmering horizon, then by a new dawning of Goij''s wonderful providence, a deliverer ap- peared, our gracious sovereign, King William the III. who has the honour of establishing our religion at home, and gives us hopes of restoring it abroad, in places from whence it has been so unrighteously and cruelly expelled. IMay the union of his protestant subjects in religious things, so desired by wise and good men, be accomplished by his princely counsel and authority. Integrity with charity would remove those things that have so long disunited us. I return from this digression. Love to the souls of men, was the peculiar cliaracter of Mr. Baxter's spirit. In this he imitated and honoured our Saviour, who prayed, died, and lives for the salva- tion of souls. All his natural and supernatural endow- ments were subservient to this blessed end. It was his meat and drink, the life and joy of his life, to do good to souls. His industry was almost incredible in his studies: He had a sensitive nature desirous of ease as others have, and faint faculties, yet such was the continual applica- tion of himself to his great work, as if the labour of one day had supplied strength for another, and the wil- lingness of the spirit had supported the weakness of the flesh. In ills usual conversation, his serious, frequent, and deligiitful discourse was of divine things, to entiame his friends with the love of heaven. He received with tender compassion andcondescendingkindness, the meanest that came to him for counsel and consolation. He gave, in one year, a hundred pounds to buy bibles for the poor. He has, in his will, disposed of all that remains of his estate, after the legacies to his kindred, for the benefit of the souls and bodies of the poor. lie continued to preach so long, notwithstanding his wasted languishing body, that, the last time, he' almost died in the pulpit. It 41 B A X T E R. It would have been his joy to have been iramjrgured in the mount. Not long after his last sernioi), lie feit t!ie approaches of death, and was confined to his sick bed. DccUh reveals the secrets of the heart ; then words are spoken with most feeling; and least afTectation. This excellent Saint was the same in his life and death: His last hours were spent in prci)aring oliiers and himself to appear before God. He said to his friends that visited him, " You " come hither to learn to die : I am not the only person '* that must go this way; I can assure you that your whole " life, be it never so long, is little enough to prepare for " death Have a care of this vain deceitful world, and ** the lusts of the ilcsh; I3e sure you choose Goo for your " portion, heaven for your home, God's glory for your " end, his word for your rule, and then you need never " fear but we shall meet uith comfort.'" Never was penitent sinner more humble and debasing himself, never was a sincere believer more calm and com- fortable. He aclcnov^'ledgsd himself to be the vilest dunghill worm (it was his usual expression) that ever went to heaven. He admired the divine condescension to us, often saying, " Lord, wl.at is man ? What am " I, vile worm, to the great God ?'" J\Iany times he prayed, God be merciful to rne a sinner ! and blessed God, that that was left upon record in the gospel, as an eifectual prayer. He said, " God may justly condemn " me for the best duty I ever did : And all rny hopes are " from the free mercy of God in Christ, which he often '* j>rayed for." After a sbzmbcr he waked and said, " I shall rest from " my labour." A minister then present said, ' And your * works follow you:"* To whom he replied, " No works, " I will leave out works, if Gon will grant me the other." Wl)en a friend was comforting bim with the remembrance of the good, which many had received by his preaching and writings, he said, " I was but a pen in God's hand ; " and what praise is due to a pen ?'''' His resigned submission to the will of God in his sharp sickness, was eminent. When extremity of pain constrained him earnestly to pray to God for his re- lease by death, he woidd check himself; " It is not fit "for me to prescril)e;" ai-1 said, "When thou wilt, " what thou wilt, how thou wilt." I]eing in great anguish, he said, " O how unsearchable " are his ways, and his paths past finding out! the reaches " of 3 A X T E S. 45 «* of his pi'ovidencs we cannot fat!:om :'"' And to liis friends : " Do not think the worse of religion for what ** you see me sufter." Being often asked by his friends, how it was with lils inward man? he replied, " I bless God I liave a well- *' gj'ounded assurance of my eternal happiness, and great " peace and comfort wifchin ;"" but it was liis trouble he could not triumphantly express it, by reason of his ex- treme jiains. He said, " Flesh must perisli, and we must " feel the perishing of it: And that though hisjuilgment " submitted, yet sense would still make him groan." Being asked by a person of quality, * Whether he had * not great joy from his believing apprehensions of the * invisible state?' He replied, " What else think you *' f Christianity serves for?" He said, " The consideration " of the Deity in his glory and greatness was too high for " our thoughts; but the consideration of the Son of God *' in our nature, and of the saints in heaven whom he " knew and loved, did much sweeten and familiarize hea- " ven to him." The description of heaven in the xiith chapter to the Kebrev/s and the 22d verse, was most com- fortable to him: That he was going to the innumerable compamj of angels, and to the general assemhlij and church of the first -horn, zvhose names are written in heaven; and to God the Judge of all, and to the s])irits of Just men made perfect; and to Jesus, the mediator of the neiv covenant, and to the Hood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than the blood of Abel. " That Scripture, he said, deserved a thou- " sand thousand thoughts." He said, " O how comfort- *' able is that promise, Eije hath not seen, nor ear heard, *' neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the *' things God has laid i(p for those tcho love //?"??;." At another time he said, " That he found great comfort " and sweetness in rep'^ating tlie v/ords of the Lord's " Prayer, and was sorry that some good people were *' prejudiced against the use of it; for there were all ne- *' cessary petitions for soul and body contained in it." At other times he ga\'e excellent counsel to young mi- nisters tiiat visited him, and earnestly prayed to Goj) to bless their labours, and make them very successful in con- verting many souls to Christ. And he expressed great joy in the hopes that Goo would do a great deal of good by them, and that they were of moderate peaceful spirits. He did often pray that God would be mercilul to this miserable distracted world : And that l>.e would preserve his church and interest in it. He 45 BAXTER. He advised his friends to beware of self-conceltednesStf as a sin that was likely to ruin this nation : And sa6d, " I have written a book against it, which I ain afraid •' lias done little good."" Being asked whether he had altered his mind in con- troversial points, he said, " Those that please, may know *' my mind in my writings .' And what he had done was *' not for his own reputation, but the glory of God." I went to him with a very worthy friend, Mr. Mather of New England, the day before he died ; and speaking some comforting words to him, he replied, '' I have *' pain, there is no arguing against sense, but I have *' peace, I have peace." I told him, ' You are now ap- * proaching to your long-desired home.' He answered, " I believe, I believe." He said to INIr. Mather, " I *' bless God that you have accomplished your business ; " the Lord prolong your life." He expressed a great willingness to die ; and during his sickness, when the question was asked, how he did, his answer was, " Almost well." His joy was remarkable, when in his own apprehensions death was nearest : And his spiritual joy at length was consummated in eternal joy. Thus lived and died that blessed saint. I have, with- out any artificial fiction of words, given a sincere short account of him. All our tears are below the just grief for such an invaluable loss. It is the comfort of his fi'iends, that he enjoys a blessed reward in heaven, and has left a precious remembrance on the earth."" Thus far Dr. Bates. To this may be added from Mr. Sylvester a short account of his person. He was tall and slender, and stooped much : His countenance com- posed and grave, somewhat inclining to smile. He hatl a piercing eye, a very articulate speech, and his deport- ment rather plain than complimental. lie had a great command over his thoughts. He had that happy faculty, so as to answer the character that was given of him by a learned man, dissenting from him, after a discourse with him; which was, ' That he could say what lie would, * and he could prove what he said.' It is impossible to read the account he gives of himself in his Reliquia: without emotion. Tlie sickness and lan- guors he underwent almost from his childhood, and which he has so pathetically described, render it matter of ad- miration, that such a frame should hold out for seventy-six years, when, before twenty, he complained of a prucma- tura seneclus, and all the symptoms oi" fourscore. The BAXTER. 47 The stone wliicli Avas generated in his kiilneys, and which he sustained there above fifty years, is preserved in the British Museum. It is a large bhie jjebble, very much resembling the shape of a kidney itself. We cannot dismiss this memoir of so extraordinary a person, without aflixing that memorial of gratitude which Dr. Bates renders for Mv. Baxter to Sir Henrj^ Ashurst, Bart, his pious patron and frend. * To the right worshipfid, and his much honoured friend, Sir Henry Ashurst, Baronet. « Sib, * Your noble and constant kindness to Mr. Baxter living, and your honourable respect to him dead, have in- tluced me to inscribe the following memorial of him to your name. He was most worthy of your highest esteem and love: for the first impressions of heaven upon your soul, were in reading his unvalued book of the Saint's Everlasting Rest. This kindled a mutual affection in your l)reasts : His love was directing, counselling, and exciting you to secure your future happiness : Your love was ob- servant, grateful, and beneficent to him. The sincerity and generosity of your friendship was very evident, in your appearing and standing by him, when he was so roughly and unrighteously handled, by one who was the dishonour of this age's law. Chief Justice Jefieries, whose deportment in a high place of Judicature was so contrary to wistlom, and humanity, and justice, that there need no foul words to make his name odious. Of this and your ot!ier favours Mr. Baxter retained a dear and lasting sense ; and in his dying hours declared, that you had been the best friend he ever had. He has finished Ins course, and received In's crou-n: His name will shine longer than his enemies shall bark. * I cannot omit the mentioning, tiiat Mr. Boyle and INIr. Baxter, those incom})arabie persons in their several studies, and dear friends, died within a short sj)ace of one anothei'. Mr. Boyle was engaged in the contemplation of the design and architecture of the visible world, and made rare discoveries in the system of nature : Xot for curio- sity and barren specidation, but to admii'e and adore the perfections of the Deity in the variety, order, beauty, and marvellous artifice of the creatures that compose this great universe. Mr. Baxter was conversant in the invi- sible world; His mind was constantly applied to un(h^r- sland 48 F L A V E L. stand the harmonious agreement of the divine attributes, in tlie economy of our salvation, and to restore men to the image and favour of God. They are now admitted into the enligiitened and purified society above, where the immense volumes of the divine wisdom are laid open, and, by one glance of an eye, they discover more per- fectly the glorious and wonderful works of God in hea- ven and earth, than the most diligent inquirers can do here, in a thousand years' study, though they had the sagacity of Solomon. By the light of glory, theij see the face of God, and are satisfied with his likeness fur ever. ' It is a high honour to you, tliat ]\Ir. Boyle and IMr. Baxter should by their last will nominate you amongst their executors. It was the saying of a wise Roman, * 3Ialo divi Augusti judicium^ quam beneficium : I had ra- ' ther have the esteem of the Emperor Augustus than his * gifts :' For he was an understanding prince, and his esteem was very honourable to a person. That two, who so excelled in wisdom and goodness, should commit to your trust the disposal of their estates, for the uses of piety and charity, is a more noble testimony of their esteem of your prudence and inviolable integrity, than if they had bequeathed to you rich legacies. ' It is a satisfaction to me, that I have complied with Mr. Baxter's desire in preaching his funeral sermon, and with your's in publishing. I shall unfeignedly recommend yourself, your excellent lady and virtuous children, to the divine mercies ; and remain, with great respect, ' Sir, ' Your humble and faithful servant, ' William Bates.' JOHN FLAVEL. JVIr. JOHN FLAVEL was born in Worcestershire. He was religiously educated by his father, and, having profited well at the grammar schools, was sent early to Oxford, and settled a commoner in University College. He plied his studies hard, and exceeded many of his con- temporaries in university learning. Soon F L A V E L. 49 Soon after his commencing bachelor of arts, Mr. Wal- plate, tlie minister of Dej)tford in the county of Devon, was rendered incapable of performing liis otTice by reason of his age and infirmity, and sent to Oxford for an assii,t- ant ; Mr. Flavel, though but young, was recommended to him as a person duly qualified, and was accordingly- settled there by the standing committee of Devon, April 27, 1650, to preach as a probationer and assistant to Mr. Wal plate. ]Mr. Flavel, considering the weight of his charge, ap- plied himself to the work of his calling with great dili- gence ; and being assiduous in reading, meditation and prayer, he increased in ministerial knowledge daily, so that he attained to an high degree of eminency and repu- tation for his useful labours in the church. About six months after his settling at Deptford, he Jieard of an ordination to be at Salisbury, and therefore went thither with his testimonials, and offered himself to be examined and ordained by the Presbytery there : They appointed him a text, upon which he preached to their general satisfaction ; and having afterwards examined him as to his learning, &c. they set him apart to the work of the ministry, with prayer and imposition of hands, on the 17th day of October 1G50. Mr. Flavel, being thus ordained, returned to Deptford, and after Mr. Walplate's death succeeded in the rectory. To avoid all incumbrances from the world, and avoca- tions from his studies and ministerial work, he chose a person of worth and reputation in the parish, (of whom he had a good assurance, that he would be faithful to him- self, and kind to his parishioners) and let him the whole tithes much below the real value, v/hich was very well pleasing to his people. By this means he was the better able to deal with them in private, since the hire of his labours was no way a hindrance to the success of them. Whilst he was at Deptford he married one Mrs. Joan Randal, a pious gentlewoman, of a good family, who died in travail of lier first child, without being delivered. His year of mourning being expired, his acquaintance and intimate friends advised him to marry a second time, wherein he was again very happy. Her name was Eliza- beth Morrice. Some time after this second marriage, the people of Dartmouth (formerly under the charge of the reverend ?.Ir. Anthony Hartford, deceased) unanimously chose i\L-. Flavel to succeed him. They urged him to accept their call, 1. Because there vrere exceptions made VOL. IV. E against 50 F L A V E L. against all the otiier candidates, but none against him 2. Because, being acceptable to the whole town, he was the more like to be an instrument of healing the breaches among the good people th^re. 3. Because Dartmouth, being a considerable and populous town, re- quired an able and eminent m.inister, which was not so necessary for a country parish, that might besides be more easily supplied with another pastor than Dartmouth, That which made them more pressing and earnest with Mr. Flavel, was this:* At a provincial synod in that county, Mr. Flavel, though but a young man, was voted into the cliair as moderator, where he opened the assem- bly with a most devout and pertinent prayer : He exa- mined the candidates who offered themselves to their trials for the ministry with great learning ; stated the cases and questions proposed to them with much acuteness and judgment; and in the whole demeaned himself with that gravity, piety, and seriousness, during his presidency, that all the ministers of the assembly admired and loved him. The reverend Mv. Hartford, his predecessor at Dartmouth, took: particular notice of him, from that time forward contracted a strict friendship with him, and spoke of him among the magistrates and people of Dart- mouth, as an extraordinary person, who was like to be a great light in the church. This, with their having se- veral times heard him preach, occasioned their importu- nity with Mr. Flavel to come and be their minister; upon which, having prayed over the matter, and submitted it to the decision of his neighbouring ministers, he was pre- " vailed upon to remove to Dartmouth, to his great loss in temporals, the rectory of Deptford being a much greater benefice. Mr. Flavel being settled at Dartmouth by the election of the people, and an order from Whitehall by the com- missioners for approbation of public preachers, of the 19th of December 165G, he was associated with Mr. Allen Gear, a very worthy but sickly man. The ministerial work was thus divided betwixt them : Mr. Flavel was to preach on the Lord's day at Townstall, the mother church, stand- ing upon a hill without the town ; and every fortnight in his turn at the Wednesday's lecture in Dartmouth. Here God crowned his labours with many conversions. One of his judicious hearers expressed himself thus concerning him : ' I could say much, tliough not enough, of the ' excellency of his preaching ; of his seasonable, suitable, * and spiritual matter; of his plain expositions of Scrip- * ture ; his taking method, his genuine and natural de- ' ductions. F L A V E L. 51 * ductions, his convincing arguments, his dear and pow- * eriul demonstrations, his heart-searching applications, * and his comfortable supports to those that were afflicted * in conscience. In sliort, that person must iiave a very * soft head, or a very hard heart, or both, that could sit * under his ministry unaffected.' By his unwearied apj)]ication to study, he had acquired a great stock both of divine and human learning. He was master of the controversies betwixt the Jews and Christians, Papists and Protestants, Lutherans and Cal- vinists, and betwixt the Orthodox, and the Arminians and Socinians : He was likewise well read in the controver- sies about church-discipline, intant baptism, and antino- mianism. He was well acquainted with the school divi- nity, and drew up a judicious and ingenious scheme of the whole body of that theology in good Latin, which he presented to a person of quality ; but it was never printed. He was singularly well versed and exact in the oriental languages. He had one Avay of improving his knowledge, which is very proper for young, divines ; whatever remarkable passage he heard in private confe- rence, if he was familiar with the relater, he would de- sire him to repeat it again, and insert it into his Adversa- ria. By these methods he acquired a vast stock of proper materials for his popular sermons in the pulj)it, and his more elaborate works tor the press. He had an excellent gift of prayer, and was never at a loss in all his various occasions tor suitable matter and words ; and, which was the most remarkable of all, he always brought with him a broken heart and moving affections; his tongue and spirit were touched with a live coal from the allar, and he was evidently assisted by the Holy Spirit of grace and supplication in that divine or- dinance. Those who lived in his family, say, ' That he * was always full and copious in prayer, seemed constant- * ]y to exceed himself, and rarely made use twice of the * same expressions.' When the act of uniformity turned him out with the rest of his non-conforming brethren, he did not thereitpon quit liis relation to his church; he thought the souls of liis flock to be more precious than to be so tamely ne- glected : He took all opportunities of ministering the word and sacraments to them in private meetings, and joined with other ministers in solenm days of fasting and lujmiliation, to pray that God would onc<; jnore re- store the free ministration of the Gospel. x\bout four month* 52 FLAVEL. months after that fatal Bartholomew-day, his reverend col- lea'^ue Mr. Allen Gear, died ; so that the whole care of the flock devolved upon Mr. Flavel, which, though a heavy and pressing burden, he undertook very cheerfully. Upon the execution of the Oxford act, which banished all non-conibrmist ministers five miles from any towns which sent members to parliament, he was forced to leave Dartmouth, to the great sorrow of his people, who followed him out of town ; and at Townstall cliurch-yard they took such a mom-nful farewell of one another, as the place might very well have been called Bochin. He removed to Slapton, a parish five miles from Dartmouth, or any other corporation, which put him out of the le- gal reach of his adversaries. Here he met with signal instances of God's fatherly care and protection, and preached twice every Lord's day to such as durst adven- ture to hear him, which many of his own people and others did, notwithstanding the rigour and severity of the act against conventicles. He many times slipped pri- vately into Dartmouth, where, by preaching and conver- sation, he edified his flock, to the great refreshment of his own soul and theirs, though with very much danger, because of his watchful adversaries, who constantly laid wait for him, so that he could not make any long stay in the town. In those times, Mr. Flavel being at Exeter, was in- vited to preach by many good people of that city, who for safety chose a wood about three miles from the city to be the place of their assembly, where they were broke \ip by their enemies, by that time the sermon was well begun. Mr. Flavel, by the care of the people, made his escape through the middle of his enraged enemies : And though many of his hearers were taken, carried before Justice Tuckfield, and fined, yet the rest, being nothing discouraged, re-assembled, and carrying Mr. Flavel to another wood, he preached to them without any disturb- ance ; and, after he had concluded, rode to a gentleman's house near the wood, who, though an absolute stranger to Mr. Flavel, entertained him with great civility that night, and the next day he returned to Exeter in safety. Amongst those taken at this time, there was a tanner, who had a numerous family, and but a small stock ; he was fined notwithstanding in forty pounds, at which he was nothing discouraged; but told a friend, who asked hiin how he bore up under his loss, ' That he took the ' spoiling of his goods joyfully, for the sake of his Lord ' Jesus, F L A V E L. 53 ^ Jesus, for whom his life and all that he had was too ' little.' As soon as the nonconformists had anv respite from their trouble, Mr. Flavel laid hold of the opportunity, and returned to Dartmouth, where, during the first in- dulgence granted by King Charles II. he kept open doors, and preached freely to all that would come and hear him ; and when that liberty was revoked, he made it his business, notwithstanding, to preach in season and out of season, and seldom missed an opportunity of preaching on the Lord's Day. During this time, Goj) was pleased to deprive him of his second wife, which was a great affliction, she having been a help meet for him; and such an one he stood much in need of, being a man of an infirm and weak constitution, who laboured under manvy infirmities. . In convenient time he married a third wife, Mrs. Ann Downe, daughter of Mr. Thomas Downe, mi- nister at Exeter, who lived with him very hajipily eleven years, and left him two sons. The persecution against the nonconformists being re- newed. Ml", Flavel found it unsafe to stay at Dartmouth, and therefore resolved to go to London, where he hoped to be in less danger, and to have more liberty to exercise his function. The night before he embarked for that end, he had the following premonition by a dream : Pie thought he was on board the shij), and that a storm arose which exceedingly terrified the passengers ; during their consternation, there sat writing at the table a person of admirable sagacity and gravity, who had a child in a cradle by him that was very Iroward ; he thought he saw the father take up a little whip, and give the child a lash, saying, ' Child be quiet : I will discipline, but not * hurt thee.' Upon this ]\Ir. Flavel awaked, and musing on his dream, he concluded that he should meet with some trouble in his passage. His friends, being at dinner with him, assured him of a pleasant passage, because the wind and weather were very fair : Mr. Flavel rej)lied, " That he was not of their mind, but expected much " trouble because of his dream ;" adding, " that when " he had such representations made to him in his sleep, " they seldom or never failed." Accordingly, when they were advanced within five leagues of Portland in their voyage, they were overtaken by a dreadful tempest, insomuch that, "betwixt one and two in the morning, the master and seamen concluded, that unless Goo clianged the wind, there was no hope of 54 F L A V E L. of life; it was impossible for them to weather Portland, so that they must of necessity be wrecked on the rocks or on the shore. Upon this Mr Flavel called all the hands that could be spared into the cabin to prayer; but the violence of the ten)pest was such, that they could not prevent themselves from being thrown from the one side unto the other, as the ship was tossed, and not only so, but mighty seas broke in upon them, as if they would have drov,n"d them in the very cabin. Mr, Flavel in this danger took hold of the two pillars of the cabin bed, and calling upon God, begged mercy for himself and the rest in the ship. Amongst other arguments in prayer, he made use of this, that if he and his company perished in that storm, the name of Gou would be blaspliemed ; the enemies of religion would say, that though he escaped their hands on shore, yet divine vengeance had overtaken him at sea. In the midst of prayer his faith and hope were raised, insomuch that he expected a gracious an- swer; so that, committing himself and his companions to the mercy of God, he concluded the duty. No sooner was prayer ended, but one came down from the deck, crying, ' Deliverance ! Deliverance ! God is a * Gov hearing prayer ! In a moment the wind is become * fair west V And so sailing before it, they were brought safely to London. Mr. Flavel found many of his old iriends there, and God raised him new ones, with abundance of work, and extraordinary encouragement in it. During his stay in London, he married his fourth wife, a widow gentlewoman, (daughter to Mr. George Jefferies, formerly minister of King's Bridge) who sur- vived him. Mr. Flavel, while he was in London, narrowly escaped being taken, with the Reverend Mr. Jenkins, at Air. Fox's in Moorfields, where they were keeping a day of fasting and prayer. He was so near, that he heard the insolence of the officers and soldiers to Mr. Jenkins when they had taken him, and observed it in his diary, that Mr. Jenkins miglit have escaped as well as himself, had it not been for a piece of vanity in a lady, Avhose long train liindered his going down stairs, Mr. Jenkins out of his too great civility having let her pass before him. Mr. Flavel, after this, returned to Dartmouth, where with his family, and dear people, he blessed God for liis mercies towards him. He was, in a little time after, confined close prisoner to his house, where many of his flock stole in over-night, or betimes on the Lord's day in F L A V E L. 55 in the morning, to enjoy the benefit of his labours, and spend the Sabbath in liearing, praying, singing of psahns, and holy discourses. Mr. Jenkins above-mentioned dying in prison, his peor pie gave Mr. Flavel a call to the pastoral office among them, and Mr. Reeves's people did tiie like. Air. Flavel communicated those calls unto his flock, and kept a day of prayer with them, to beg direction from Gon in this imj)ortant affair ; he was gi'aciously jileased to answer them, by fixing Mr. Flavefs resolution to stay with his flock at Dartmouth. Many arguments were made use of to persuade him to come to London : as, that since he was turned out by the act of uniformity, he had had but very little maintenance from his church ; that those in London were rich and numerous congrega- tions ; that he had a family and children to provide for ; and that the city was a theatre of honour and reputation. But none of those things could prevail with him to leave his poor people at Dartmouth. In 1687, when it j)leased God so to over-rule affairs, that King James 11. thought it his interest to dispense with the penal laws against them, Mr. Flavef, who had formerly been confined to a corner, shone brightly, as a flaming beacon upon the top of an hill. His affectionate people prepared a large place for him, where Gou blessed his labours to the conviction of many people, by his ser- mons on Rev, iii. 20. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. This encouraged him to print tliose sermons, un- der the title of England's Duty, kc. hoping that they might do good abroad as well as in his own congregation. He had made a vow to the Lord under his confinement, that if he should be once more entrusted with pul)lic liberty, he would improve it to the advantage of the gos- pel ; this he performed in a most conscientious manner, preaching twice every Lord's day, and lecturing every Wednesday, in which he went over most of the third chapter of St. John, shewing the indispensable necessity of regeneration. He preached likewise every Thursday before the Sacrament, and then after examination admit- ted communicants. He had no assistance on Sacrament days, so that he was many times almost spent before he distributed the elements. When the duty of the day was over, he would often complain of a sore breast, an aching head, and a pained back ; yet he would be early at study again next Montlav. He allowed himself very little re- creatioo. 56 F L A V E L. creation, accounling time a precious jewel, that ought to be improved at any rate. He was not only a zealous preacher in the pulpit, but a sincere Cliristian in his closet, frequent in sell-examina- tion, as well as in pressing it upon others ; being afraid, lest while he preached to others, he himself should be a cast-away. To prove this, I shall transcribe what fol- lows from his own diary. " 1. To make sure of eternal life, said he, is the great " business which the sons of death haVe to do in this world. *' Whether a man consider the immortality of his own " soul, the ineffable joys and glory of heaven, the ex- *' treme and endless torments of hell, the incunceivable " sweetness of peace of conscience, or the misery of being " subject to the errors thereof: All these put a necessity, *' a solemnity, a glory upon this work. Bnt, Oh ! the ** difficulties and dangers attending it ! How many, and *' how great are these ? What judgment, faithl'ulness, *•' resolution, and watchfulness, doth it require ? Such is " the deceitfulness, darkness, and inconstancy of our *' hearts, ^nd such the malice, policy, and diligence of " Satan, to manage and improve it, that he who attempts *' this work had need both to watch his seasons for it, *' and frequently look up to Gou for his guidance and " illumination, and to spend many sad and serious thoughts *' before he adventure upon a determination and conclu- *' sion of the state of his soul. " To the end, therefore, that this most important ^' work may not miscarry in my hands, I have collected *' with all the care I can, the best and soundest charac- *' ters I can find in the writings of our modern divines, *' taken out of the Scripture, and by their labours illus- *' trated and prepared for use, that I might make a right *' application of them. " I. I have earnestly besought the Lord for the assis- *' tance of his Spirit, which can only manifest my own '^' heart unto me, and shew me the true state thereof, *' which is that thing my soul doth most earnestly desire " to know : And I hope the Lord will answer my desire *' therein, according to his promises, Luke xi. 13. John " xiv. 26. " 2. I have endeavoured to cast out and lay aside self- ^* love, lest, my heart being prepossessed therewith, ray " judgment should be perverted and become partial in " passing sentence on my estate. I liave in some mea- ^' sure brought my heart to be willing to judge and con- " dcmn F L A V E L. 6t ^' demn myself for an hypocrite, if such I shall be found *' on trial, as to approve myself foi- sincere and upright : *' Yea, I would have it so far from being grievous to me " so to do, that if I have l)een all this while mistake n and *' deceived, I shall rejoice and bless t!ie Lord vviih my *' soul, that now at last it may be discovered to me, and " I may be set right, though I lay tlu' foundation new *' again. This I have labovu'ed to bring my heajt to, " knowing that thousands have dashed and s|)lit to pieces " upon this rock. And indeed he that will own the *' person of a judge, must put off the person of a *' friend. " 3. It hath been my endeavour to keep upon my lieart " a deep sense of that great jndgment-div ihrou'diout this " work, as knowing by experience what a potent in- " lluence this hath on the conscience-, to mr.l.e-it de!ibe- *' rate, serious, and faithful in its work ; and therefore I " have demanded of my own conscience, before the re- " solution of each question : O my conscience, deal " faithfully with me in this particular, and say no more *' to me than thou wilt own and stand to in the great " day, when the counsels of all hearts shall be made " manifest. " 4. Havina: seriously weighed each mark, and con- *' sidered wherein the weight and substance of it lieth, I " have gone to the Lord in prayer for his assistance, " ere I have drawn up the answer of my conscience ; " and as my heart hath been persuaded therein, so have " I determined and resolved ; what hath been clear to my " experience, I have so set down, and what hath been " dubious, I have here left it so. " 5. I have made choice of the fittest seasons I had *' for this work, and set to it when I have found my *' heart in the most quiet and serious frame. For as he " that will see his face in a glass, must be fixed, not in " motion, or in the water, must make no conunolion " in it, so it is in this case. " Lastly, To the end I may be successf'ul in this '' work, i have laboured all along carefully to distin- *' guish* betwixt such sins as are grounds of doubt- " ing, and such as are only grounds of humiliation ; *' knowing that not every evil is a ground of doul)t- " ing, though all, even the smallest infirmities, ad- <' minister matter of humiliation : And thus I have *' desired to enterprize this great business. O Lord, " assist thy servant, that he may not mistake iiere- " in} 5S F L A V E L. *' in ; but if liis conscience do now condemn him, he " may lay a better foundation whilst he hath time, and *' if it shall now acquit him, he may also have boldness *' in the day of judgment." These things being previously dispatched, he tried himself by the Scripture marks of sincerity and regene- ration ; by this means he attained to a well-grounded assurance, the ravishing comforts of which were many times shed abroad in his soul : This made him a power- ful and successful preacher, as one who spoke from his own heart to those of others. He preached what he felt, what he had handled, what he had seen and tasted of the word of life, and they felt it also. We may guess what a sweet and blessed intercourse he had with heaven, from that history we meet with in liis " ^v;t^jLl^i^rAo7^»,'''' p. 323, which I refer to, and like- wise from that revelation he had of liis father and mo- ther's death, p. 339. He was a mighty wrestler with God in secret prayer, and particularly begged of him to crown his sermons, printed books, and private dis- courses, with the convei'sion of poor sinners, a work which his heart was much set upon. It pleased God to answer him by many instances, of which the two that follow deserve peculiar notice : In 1673, there came to Dartmouth port a ship of Pool, in her return from Virginia; the surgeon of this ship, a lusty young man of twenty-three years of age, fell into a deep melancholy, which the devil improved to make him murder himself This he attempted on the Lord's day Parly in the morning, when he was in bed with his brother; he first cut his own throat with a knife he had prepared on pur{)0se, and leaping out of the bed, thrust it into his stomach, and so lay wallowing in his own blood, till his brother awaked and cried for help. A physician and surgeon were brought, who concluded the wound in his throat mortal : They stitched it up how- ever, and applied a jilastcr, but without hopes ot" cure, l)pca!.ise he already breathed through the wound, and Jiis voice was become inarticulate. Mr. Flavel came to visit him in this condition, and, apprehending him to be within a few minutes of eternity, laboured to prepare Iiitn for it ; he asked him his own apprehensions of his condition, and-tlie young man answered, ' That he hoped * in Gon for eternal life."' Mr. Flavel replied, " That he ^' feared his hopes were ill -grounded ; the Scripture teUs •' a?, tiiat No murderer hath eterucil life abiding in him ; " sell F L A V E L. 69 ^^ self-murder was the jjrossest of all murder, Src." Mr. Flavel insisted so nuicli upon the aggravations of the crime that tlie young man's conscience began to fail, his lieai-t began to melt, and then lie broke out into tears, bewail- ing ills sin and misery, and asked Tvlr. Fhavcl, ' If there ' might yet be any hojie for him ?' he tolil him, " There " might:" And finding him altogether \uuic(jiiainted with the nature of faith and repentance, he opened them to liim. The poor man sucked in this docirine greedily, prayed with great vehemence to God that he would work them on his sou), and inti'eated Mr. Flavel to j)ray with him, and for him, that he might be, though late, a sincere gospel j)enitent, and sound believer. JMr. Fiavel prayed witii him accordingly, and it pleased Gon ex- ceedingly to melt the young man's heart din-jng the performance of that duty. He was very lothe to part Avith Mr. Flavel, but the duty of the day obliged him to be gone ; in a few words he summed up those coun- sels that he thought most necessary, and so took his fare- well of liim, never expecting to see him any more in this world. But it pleased Gou to order it otherwise ; tlie young man continued alive, contrary to all expectation, panted earnestly after the Lord Jesus, and no discourse was pleasing to him, but that of Christ and faith. la this frame Mr. Flavel found him in the evening ; lie re- joiced greatly when he saw him come again, intreated. Jiim to continue his discourse upon this subject, and told him, ' Sir, the Lord hath given me repentance for this, * and for all my other sins ; I see the evil of them now, * so as I never saw tliem before! O, I lothe myself! ' I do also believe : Lord, help my unbelief! I am heartily * willing to take Christ upon his own terms ; but one * thing troubles me, I doubt this bloody sin will not be * pardoned. Will Jesus Christ, said he, apply his blood ' to me, that have shed my own blood ?'' ^Ir. Flavel told him, " That the Lord Jesus had shed his blood " for them that with wicked hands had shed his own " blood, which was a greater sin than the shedding of " his ;" to which the wounded man replied, ' 1 will * cast myself upon Christ, let him do what he will."' Li this condition J\Ir. Flavel left him that night. Next morning his wounds were to be opened, and the surgeon's opinion was, that he would inuuediately ex- pire : i\[r. Flavel was again requested to give him a visit, wliich lic did, found him in a very serious frame, and prayed with him. The wound in his stomach was after- wards opened, Avhen the venuicle was so swollen, that it 60 F L A V E L.' it came out at the orifice of the wound, and lay like a livid discoloured tripe upon his body, and was also cut through ; every one thought it impossible for him to live ; however the surgeon enlarged the orifice of the wound, fomented it, and wrought the ventricle again into his body, and, stitching up the wound, left his patient to the disposal of Providence. It pleased God that he was cured of these dangerous wounds in his body ; and, upon solid grounds of a ra- tional charity, there was reason to believe that he was also cured of that more dangerous wound which sin had made on his soul. Mr. Flavel spent many hours with liim during the time of his illness ; and when the sur- geon returned to Pool, after his recovery, IMr. Samuel Hardy, that worthy minister there, thanked Mr. Flavel in a letter, for the great pains he had taken with that young man, and congratulated his success, assuring him, that if ever a great and thorough work was wrought, it was upon that man. The second instance is this : Mr. Flavel being in Lon- don in 1673, his old bookseller, Mr. Boulter, gave him the following relation, viz, * That some time be- * fore, there came into his shop a sparkish gentleman ' to inquii'C for some play books; Mr. Eoulter told him ' he had none, but shewed him Mr, Flavefs little treatise ' of " Keeping the Heart," intreated him to read it, ' and assured him it would do him more good than * play books."* The gentleman read the title, and glancing upon several pages here and there, broke out into tliese and such other expressions : ' What a damnable fanatic * was he who made this book ?' Mr. Boulter begged of him to buy and read it, and told him ' he had no cause ' to censure it so bitterly ;' at last he bought it, but told him ' he would not read it.' * What will you do with * it then, said Mr. Boulter ?' ' I will tear and burn ' it, said he, and send it to the devil.' Mr. Boulter told him, ' then he should not liave it,' Upon this the gentleman promised to read it ; and Mr, Boulter told him, ' If he disliked it upon reading, he would return * him his money.' About a month after, the gentle- man came to the shop again in a very modest habit, and, with a serious countenance, bespeaks Mr. Boulter thus : ' Sir, I most heartily thank you for putting this * book into my hands ; I bless Goo that moved you to ' do it: it hath saved my soul ; blessed be God that ever * I came into your shop,' And then he bought a hun- dred F L A V E L. 61 dred more of those books of him, told him ' he vvoidd * give them to the poor, who could not buy them,' and so left him, praising and admirinsr the goodness of God. Thus it pleased God to bless the sermons, discourses, and writings of Mr. Flavel. He never delighted in controversies, but vras obliged, contrary to his inclinations, to write against ]\Ir. Carv, the principal baptist in Dartmouth, with wiiom however he maintained a friendly and Christian correspondence. When he wrote his " Planclogia, or. Blow at the Root," he declared to his iriends, tlsat though those studies were very necessary, he took no pleasure in them, but had rather be employed in practical divinity. When he composed his " Reasonableness of personal Reformation," he told an intimate acquaintance of his, " That ho sel- " dom had a vain thought to interrupt him, which made " him hope it woukl do the more good in the world." He purposed to have enlarged his book of " Sacra- " mental Meditations," and had most judiciously stated and handled several cases of consdence on that occasion, which he designed to have inserted in the next edition, but lived not to finish them for the press. Many times, when he preached abroad, he has had letters sent him from unknown persons, informing him how God had blessed his ministry to their souls, and converted them from being bitter enemies to religion. This encouraged him when he rode abroad, not only to accept of invitations to preach, but many times to offer his labours unto tliose that would be pleased to hear him ; though for tliis he had no occasion where he was known, the people being generally importunate with him. One day after a long and hard journey, an intimatefriend of his, out of a tender regard to him, pressed him with cogent arguments to forbear preaching at that season, but couiil not prevail with him ; his bowels of com- passion to needy and perishing souls made him overlook all considerations of himself; He preached an excellent sermon, by which there was one converted, as he de- clared himself afterwards upon his admission to the Lord's table. The last sermon that he preached to his people at Dartmouth, was on a public day of fasting and humilia- tion ; in the close of which he was enlarged in such an extraordinary a manner, when offering uj) j)raises to God for mercies received, that he seemed to be in an extacy. This happened about a week before his deatii, and may be justly accounted a foretaste of those heavenly raj)tures 6^ F L A V E L. raptures that he now enjoys amongst the blessed spirits above. The last sermon he preached was on the 21st of June 1691, at Ashburton, from 1 Cor. x. 12 Wherefore, let him that standeth take heed lest he fall. It was a very pathetic and excellent discourse, tending to awaken careless professors, and to stir them up to be solicitous about their souls. After having preached this sermon, he went to Exeter; and at Topsham, within three miles of that city, he presided as moderator in an assembly of the nonconformist ministers of Devonshire, who unanimously v^oted him into the chair : The occasion of their meeting was about an union betvA'ixt the presbyterians and in- dependents, which Mr. Flavel was very zealous to pro- mote, and brought to so great an issue in those parts, that the ministers declared their satisfaction with the' heads of agreement concluded on by the London mi- nisters of those denominations. Mr. Flavel. closed the work of the day with prayer and praises, in which his spirit was carried out with wonderful enlargement and affection. He wrote a letter to an eminent minister in London, with an account of their proceedings, that same day that he died ; Providence ordering it so, that he should finish that good work his heart was so intent upon, before he finished his course. The manner of his death was sudden and surprising: His friends thought him as well that day in the evening of which he died, as he had been for many years : To- wards the end of supper he complained of a deadness in one of his hands, that he could not lift it up to his head. This struck his wife and his friends about him into an astonishment ; they used some means to recover it to its former strength, but instead thereof, to their great grief the distemper seized all upon one side of his body. They put him to bed with all speed, and sent for physicians, but to no purpose ; his distemper prevailed upon him so fast, that in a short time it made him speechless. He was sensible of his approaching death ; and when they carried him up stairs, expressed his opinion, " That it would be the last time;" but added, " / Icnoio that it will be well with me ,•"" which were some of his last words. Thus died this holy man of Goi> suddenly, and without pain, not giving so much as one groan. He exchanged this life for a better, on the 26tli day of June 1691, in the 64th year of his age. His F L A V E L. * C3 His corpse was carried from Exeter to Dartiiioiitli, at- tended by several ministers, and a great many other per- sons of good quality ; abundance of people rode out from Dartmouth, Totness, Newton, Ashburton, and other places, to meet tlie corpse; when it wds taken out of the hearse at the water side, his people and otiierfiiends could not forbear expressing the sense of their great loss, by iloods of tears, and a bitter lanjentation. It was interred the same night in Dartmouth church, and next day Mr. George Trosse, a minister of Exeter, preached his funeral sermon from Elisha's lamentation upon the translation of Elijah, 2 Kings ii. 12. Myfulhcr, mi/ father, the chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof We shall conclude with a character of Mr. Flavel. He was a man of a middle stature, and full of lii'e and activity : He was very thoughtful, and, when not dis- coursing or reading, much taken up in meditation, which made him digest iiis notions well. He was ready to learn from every body, and as free to communicate what he knew. He was bountiful to his own relations, and very charitable to the poor, but especially to the household of faith, and the necessitous members of his own church, to whom, during their sickness, he always sent suitable supplies. He freely taught academical learning to four young men, whom he bred to the ministry, and one of them he maintained all the while at his own charj^e. He was exceedingly affectionate to all the people of Dart- mouth, of which we shall give one remarkable instance : When our fleet was first engaged with the French, he called his people together to a solemn fast, and like a man in an agony, wrestled with God in prayer for the . church and nation, and particularly for the poor seamen of Dartmouth, that they might obtain mercy ; the Lord lieard and answered him, for not one of that town was killed in the fight, though many of them were in the engagement. As he was a faithful ambassador to his IMaster, he made liis examjile the ride of his own practice, and was so far from reviling again those that reviled him, that he prayed for those that despitefully used him ; one remarkable in- stance of which is as follows : In 1093, some of the peo- ple of Dartmouth, accompanied too by some of tlic magis- 1 rates, made up his effigy, carried it througli the street.s in derision, with the covenant and bill of exclusion pin- ned to it, and set it upon a bonfire, aiul bmnt it ; some of the spectators were so much affected with the reproaclt and ignominy done to this reverend and pious minister, that U F L A V E L. that they wept, and others scoffed and jeered. It was observable, that at tlie very sanie time, though he knew nothing of the matter, he was heaping coals of fire of another nature upon the heads of these enemies ; for he was then praying for the town of Dartmouth, its magis- trates and inhabitants : And when news was brought him, upon the conclusion of his. prayer, what they had been doing, he lift up his prayer unto God for them in our Saviour''s words, " Father, forgive them, for thtij know not *' ti;hat iheij do.'"' His Vt^orks: I. Tiv':vy.ci,ToXo'yici, of a Treatise of the Soul of Man. II. The Fountain of Life, in forty-two Ser- mons. III. The Method of Grace, in thirty-five Ser- mons. [In both Volumes the Sermons are on various Subjects.] IV. England's Duty, in eleven Sermons, on llev. iii. 20. V. A Tok^n for Mourners. VI. Hus- bandry spirituah'aed. VII. Navigation spirirr.aiized. VIII. Repentance enforced by Arguments from lleason only. IX. Several other Pieces, collected since his Death, are printed in two Volumes, fol. with his Life prefixed. They may also be had in eight Volumes, 8vo. JOHN CONANT, D.D. -l HIS learned and eminent English Divine was born upon the ISth of October, in the year 1008, at Yeaten- ton in Devonshire. He was descended from a very good family, of a competent fortune, that had flourished for many yeai's in that county, but was originally French. He was educated in classical learning at private schools under the inspection of his uncle, the reverend John Conant ; and in the year 1626, entered by him of Exeter College in Oxford, of which he had been himself nine years a fellow. He studied there with vigour and application, and soon distinguished himself for uncommon parts and learning. He was very remarkable for the purity and perspicuity of his Latin style ; and of the Greek he was so perfect a master, as often to dispute publicly in that language in the schools ; which extraordinary accom- plishments recommended him highly to Dr.. John Pri- deaux, then rector of Exeter College, and the king's pro- fessor C O N A N T. 6.5 lessor in divinity, who, according to the fashion of wit in those times, used to say of him, ' Conanti nihil dilfi- ' c?Ve,-' which, in one sense, implies, to him who endea- vours, every thing is easy ; anil in another, there is no- thing difficult to Conant. And he said of him, ' Jack * Conant will have my place;' both which eminent places that Dr. PrideauM then enjoyed, were, in process of time, conferred on Dr. Conant. He took his degrees regularly; and, upon the third of July 1633, was chosen fellow of his college, in which he became an eminent tutor. Upon the breaking out of the civil war, lie judged it convenient to leave the university; and he did so in the year r()42. He retired first to Lymington, his uncle's living in Somersetshire ; where, his uncle being fled, and he in orders, he officiated as long as he could continue there with safety. While he was at Lymington, he was constituted by the parliament one of the assembly of di- vines ; but it is said, that he never sat among them, or at least very seldom, since it is certain that he never took the covenant. He afterwards followed his uncle to London, and then became a domestic chaplain to the Lord Chandos, in whose family he lived at Harefield, near Uxbridge. He is said to have sought this situation, for the sake of keeping himself as clear from all engage- ments and scrapes, as the nature and fickle condition of those times would permit. L^pon the same motive, he resigned his fellowship of Exeter College, on the 27th of September 164-7; but, upon the 7th of June 1G49, was unanimously chosen rector of it by the fellows, without any application of his own. In a very short time, however, after being thus set- tled, he was in great danger of being driven out of all public employment again ; and this by the parliament's enjoining wiiat was called the engagement, which he did not take within the time })rescribed. He had a fort- night given him to consider further of it; at the end of wliich he submitted, but under a declaration, subscribed at the same time with the engagement, which in fact enervated that instrument entirely. The terms of the engagement were: ' You shall promise to be true and ' faithful to the commonwealth of England, as it is now ' established without King or House of Lords.' Dr. Co- nanfs declaration before the commissioners, when he took the engagement, was in this form and manner : " Being " required to subscribe, I humbly premise, First, That " I be not hereby understood to approve of what hath VOL. IV. F been 66 C O N A N T. " been done in order unto, or under this present got* *' vernment, or the government itself: Nor will I be " thought to condemn it, tliey being things above my " reach, and I not knowing the grounds of the proceed- " ings. Secondly, That I do not bind myself to do any " thing contrary to the word of Gojj. Thirdly, That I " do not so hereby bind myself, but that, if Gon shall " remarkably call me to submit to any other power, I " may be at liberty to obey that call, notwithstanding " the present engagement. Fourthly, In this sense, and <' in this sense only, I do promise to be true and taithful " to th.e present government, as it is now established " without King or House of Lords."" This difficulty being got over, be went on to discharge his office of rector of Exeter College with great approba- tion; and, in December 1654, became divinity professor of the University of Oxford. In the year 1657, he accepted the impropviate rectory of Abergelcy, near St. Asaj)h in Dephighshire, as some satisfaction for the benefices for- merly annexed to the divinity chair, which he never en- joyed ; but, knowing it to have belonged to the bishopric of St. Asaph, he immediately quitted it, upon the re- establisiunent of episcopacy. On the 19th of October 1657, lie was admitted vice-chancellor of the university, which high dignity he held till the 1st of August 1060. During his office, he was very instrumental in procuring Mr. Selden's large and valuable collection of books ibr t!ie public library, and had a great hand in defeating a de- sign, to which the Protector, Oliver, gave his consent, of erecting a kind of university at Durham. Upon the restoration of King Charles II. Dr. Conant, as vice-chancellor of Oxford, came up to London, attended by the proctors, and many of the principals, and was in- troduced to the king, to whom he made a Latin speech, and presented a book of verses, written by the members of the university. On the 25th of March 1661, the king_ issued a commission for the review of the book of com- mon pra3'^er, in which Dr. Conant was one of the com- missioners, and assisted at the Savoy conferences. But after this, upon the passing of the act of uniformity, not thinking it right to conform, he suffered himself to be deprived of his preferments; and accoi'dingly his rectory of Exeter College was pronounced vacant, upon the 1st of Septend)er 1662. At length, after eight years'* serious deliberation upon the nature and lawfulness of conformityj his conscience was C 0 N A N T. 67 tv'as satisfied,* and lie resolved to comply in all parts, and in particular with tliat which had probably stuck most with h'm, the bein^ re-ordained. Accordingly he was so, upon the gS.h of September 1670, by Dr. Jicynolds, .Bishop of Norwich, whose dausjliter he had married in August 1G51, by whom he had six sons and as many daughters. Preferments were oflfered him immediate- ly; and on the 18th of December, the same year, he was elected minister of St. Mary, Aldermanburv, in London; but liaving spent some years in the town of Northampton, where he was much beloved, he chose ratiier to accept the invitation of his neighbours to remain among them ; and Dr. Simon Ford, who was tlien minister of All-Saints, going to St. Mary's, Aldermanbury, he was nominated to succeed him at Northampton. It is remarkable, that on the 20th of September 1675, he liad the mortification to see the greatest j)art of his parisli, together with his church, burnt to the ground, though providentially his own house escaped. In the year 1G7G, the archdeaconry of Norwich be- coming * We have a very curious as well as circumstnnlial account of his behaviour upon this occasion, and of the nietliods he took to resolve his own case of conscience, wheUier he ought to conform or not, in his son's memoirs. ' He applied himself very closely, for some time, to the study of the ' controversies relating to conformity. He had deliberately neighed * and considered the whole compass of these disputes, and made himself ' master of every turn in them. He had not only examined what had ' been ohjected to tlie several oftices of the litiu-gy, it's doxoloj^ies ' and resjjonsals, it's ruhrics and kalendar, and thoroughly considered * all tlie phrases and modes of expression in eacli service, but iike- ' wise compared it with ancient liturgies, as well as with the Holy ♦ Scriptures, doctrines of the apostles, and later rituals and offices. ' This appears from his pa[)ers in my hands, running over many of ' the passages in the hook of Common Prayer that have been objected ' to, anut now drawing near his end in the year 1094, upon his lirst arrest, " () friends," (said he) to such as were about him, " sickness and death are serious things ;" l)ut till the spark of his fever was risen to a flame, he was not aware, that that sickness was to be unto death. Yet, before his expiration, he was appreliensive of its approach. Calling to him a friend, he asked, " What " freedom do you find in prayer for me "^ seems God *' to beckon to your petitions, or does he bind you up *' and leave dark impressions on your mind "^ this way, *' said he, I have often known the mind of the I^ord." His friend, telling him he was under darkness in the case, he replied, " Well, I know your mind : Trouble " not yourself for me : I think I may say, I have been *' long above the fear of death." All the while his groans and struggling argued him to be under no small pains : But his answers to inquiring friends certified that the distress did not enter his soul. Always he would say, " I am very well ;" or, *' I was " never better;" or, " I feel no sickness." Thus would he say, while he seemed to be sensible of every thing be- sides pain. But the malignant distemper wasting his na- tural spirits, he could speak but little, but what he spake was all of it like himself Having felt himself indis- posed for his wonted meditation and prayer, he thus saifi to some near him : " I have not been able in a manner " to form one serious thought since I was sick, or to ap- " ply myself unto Goo, but he has applied himself to " me, and one of his manifestations was such as I could *' have borne no more." Opening his eyes after a long sleep, one of his sons asked how he did "^ He answered, '* Never better." Uo you know me "? said his son. Unto which with a sweet smile he answered, " Yes, yes, dear '« son, I know you " This was about two liours before he died. About an hour afterwards he cried earnestly, " Help, hel]), for the Lord's sake !" and then breathed weaker and weaker till he gave up the ghost ; and after he. 76 P. HENRY, he had seen the salvation of God, he departed in peace on the fifteenth of July 1694, in the 64th year of his age. Thus lived and died ]Mr. Fleming, after he had served his day and generation. His Works are, " Scriptuie- Truth cleared and confirmed, &c. The Confirming Work of Religion. His Epistolary Discourse. His well known book. The fulfilling of the Scriptures. He left a writing behind him under this title : A Short Index of some of the great Appearances of the Lord in the Dispen- sations of his Providence to his poor servants, ckc.'^ Reciting many particular providences which had attended his life. PHILIP HENRY. J. HE account of the life and death of this very ex- cellent man was drawn up by his no less celebrated and excellent son, the Rev. Matthew Henry, (author of the Annotations on the. Bible) and was first published in the year 1698. The piece itself is written in so true a strain of evangelical piety, and so just a temper of mo- deration, that, were it not for its great length, we should not deny our readers the gratification of reprinting the whole ; as by extracting from and abridging it, we must necessarily omit many circumstances highly useful and in- structive. We will, however, give our readers as mucii of it, as can possibly consist with our plan. Mr. Philip Heney was born at Whitehall, in West- minster, on Wednesday, August 24, 1631. His father''s name was John Henry, the son of Henry Williams, of Uriton's Ferry, near Swanzea, in Glamorganshire, and the father"'s christian name became the son''s surname, accord- ing to the old Welch custom. In his youth he was brought to court by the Earl of Pend)roke, and, in course of time, was made page of the back-stairs to the King'*s second son, James, Duke of York. He lived and died a courtier, a hearty mourner for his royal master, King Charles I. whom he did not long survive. Mr. Piiilip Henry''s mother was a very pious woman, and took great pains with him and her other children to bring them up in the fear of the Lord. A little before she »<>'^.'.,,/,..,.,,„„,,,-\y'''' Fnm an orii/mnl Jiitim in i/ir/'i'/ii/Moii I'/WulirlnsAsJilm f:/i/. lV,-,'fcrred to be ordain- 60 p. HENRY. ed, yet, as the times then were, there was something of a reason for it. The way and manner of his ordination ■was according to the known directory of the assembly of divines, and the common usage of the presbyterians. He applied himself diligently to his work at Worthen- bury. The sphere was narrow, and too narrow for such a burning and shining light :. There were but forty com- municants in that parish, when he first set up the ordi- nance of the Lord's Supper; and they were never doub- led : Yet he had such low thoughts of himself, that he not only never sought for a larger sphere, but would never hearken to any overtures of that kind made to him : And withal, he had such high thoughts of his work, and of the worth of souls, that he laid out himself with as much diligence and vigour here, as if he had had the over-sight of the greatest and most considerable parish in the country. His carriage towards the people of his parish was very exemplary ; condescending to the meanest, and conver- sing familiarly with them ; bearing with the infirmities of the weak, and becoming all things to all men. He was exceed- ing tender of giving offence, or occasion of grief to any body, minding liimself in his Diary upon such occasions, that the wisdom that is from above, is pure, and peaceable^ and gentle, &c. Yet he plainly and faithfully reproved w^hat be saw amiss in any, and would not suffer sin upon them ; mourning also for that, which he could not mend. He was about eight years from first to last at Worthen- bury, and his labour was not altogether in vain. He had not been long at Worthenbury, but he began to be taken notice of by the neighbouring ministers, as likely to be a considerable man. Though his extraordinary modesty and humility (which even in his youth he was remark- able for) made him to sit down with silence in the lowest room, and to say as Elihu, Daijs shall speak, yet his emi- nent gifts and graces could not long be hid. He was often called upon to preach the week-day lectures, which were set up pientifully, and diligently at- tended upon in those parts, and his labours were generally very acceptable and successful. The general opinion fas- tened upon him the epithet of Heavenly Henry, hy which title he was cnmmoniy known all the country over: And his advice was sought for by many neighbouring ministers and Christians ; for he was one of those that found favour and good understanding in tiie sight of God and man. He was noted at his first setting out (as I have been told by one who was then intimately acquainted with him, and p. HENRY. 81 aiid with his character and conversation) for three things: 1. Great piety and devotion, and a mighty savour of god- liness in all his converse. 2. Great industry in the pur- suit of useful knowledge; he was particularly observed to be very inquisitive, when he was among the aged and in- telligent, hearing them, and asking them questions; a good example to young men, especially young ministers. 3. Great self-denial, self-diflidence, and self-ahasement; this eminent humility put a lustre upon all his other graces. This character of him reminds me of a passage I have sometimes heard him speak of, as a check to the forwardness and confidence of young men: That, once at a meeting of ministei's, a question of moment was started, to be debated among them ; upon the first proposal of it, a confident young man shoots his bolt presently, ' Truly ' (said he) I hold it so.' ' You hold, sir !"■ (answered a grave minister,) ' It becomes you to hold your peace.' He was ever forward to promote unanimity among Christicyis, and lamented the uidiapj)y dissensions that pre- vailed in his time. He used to observe, " That it is not " so much tiie diiference of opinion, that doth us the mis- *' chief (for we may as soon expect all the clocks in the " town to strike together, as to see all good people of a " mind in every thing on this side heaven) but the mis- " management of that difierence." In March 1658-9, he was very much solicited to leave Worthenbury, and to accept of the vicarage of Wrexham, which was a place that he had both a great interest in, and a great kindness for, but he could not see his call clear from Worthenbury ; so he declined it. The same year he had an offer made him of a considerable living near Lon- don ; but he was not of them that are given to change, nor did he consult with flesh and blood, nor seek great things for himself. lie was a liearty well wisher to the return of the king, April A. D. 1660, and was much affected wit!) the mercy of it. " While others rejoice carnally, (saitli he) Lord, " help thy people to rejoice spiritually, in our public na- <' tional mercies." 'Twas upon that occasion that Mr. Baxter preached his sermon of Right Rejoicing, on Luke X. 20. But he and others soon saw a cause to rejoice with trembling, and to sing both of mercy and judgment ; for about that time he hath this melancholy remark : " Re- " ligion loses ground exceedingly, and profaneness gets " it: Help, Lord!" VOL. IV. G As ^2 f . H E N R Y. As to the subjects he preached upon, be did not use t© dwell long upon a text. Better one sermon upon many texts, (viz. many scriptures opened^ and applied) than many sermons upon one text. He removed from Emeral, to the house at Worthen- bury, which the Judge had built for him. in February 1G58-9, and then had one of his sisters with him to keep his liouse. Providence, having thus brought him into a house of his own, soon after provided a help meet for him. Alter long agitation, and some discouragement and oppo- sition fioni the father, April 26, 1(>60, he married Katha- rine, the on-y daughter and heiress of ]\Ir. Daniel Matthews, of Broad-Oak, in the township of Iscoyd, in Flintshire, (but in the parish of Malpus, which is in Cheshire, and about two miles distant from Whitciiurch, a considerable market tovv^n in Shropshire.) Mr. Mattliews was a gentle- man of a very competent estate ; such a one as King James I. used to Pay was tlie happiest lot of all others, which set a man below the oflice of a justice of jjeace, and above that of a petty constable. This was his only child : Very fair and honourable overtures had been made for her disposal ; but it pleased God so to order events, and to over-rule the spirits of those concerned, that she was re- served to be a blessing to this good man, in things per- taining both toliie and godliness. Such was his house, and such the vine which Goo graciously planted ])y the side of his house. By her God gave him six children, all born within less than eight years : The two eldest were sons, John and Matthew ; the other four were daughters, Sarah, Katharine, Eleanor, and Anne. His eldest son John died of the measles in the sixth year of his age, and the rest were in mercy continued to him. The Lord having built him up into a flnnily, he was carefuJ and faitiiful in making good his solemn vow at his ordination, that he and his house would serve the Lord. He would often say, " That we are really that, which " we are relatively." It is not so much what we are at church, as what we are in our families Religion, in the power of it, will be family-religion. He brought up his children in the fear of God, with a great deal of care and tenderness, and did by his practice, as well as upon all occasions in discourses, condemn the indiscretion of those parents who are partial in their affections to their chil- dren, making a difference between them, which he ob- served, often proved of ill consequence in families, and lay a foundation of envy, contempt and discord, which turns t© p. H E N R Y. 83 to their shame and ruin. His carriage towards his chil- dren was with great mildness and gentleness, as one who desired rather to be loved than feared by them. He was careful not to provoke them to wrath, nor to discourafre them, as he was to bring them up in the nurture and ad- monition of the Lord. lie ruled indeed, and kept up his autliority, but it was with wisdom and love, and not with a high hand. He drew up a siiort form of t!ie baptis- mal covenant, for the use of his children ; which was as follows : " I take Gon the Father to be my chiefest " good, and highest end. I take God the Son to be my " Prince and Saviour. I take God the Holy Ghost to " be my sanctifier, teacher, guide, and comforter. I take " the word of Gon to be my rule in all my actions ; and " the people of God to be my people in all conditions. " I do likewise devote and dedicate unto the Pord my " whole self, all I am, all I have, and all I can do. And " this I do, deliberately, sincerely, freely, and for ever." This he taught his children, and they each of them so- lemnly repeated it every Lord's day in the evening, after they were catechised ; he putting his amen to it, and sometimes addii5g, " So say, and so do ; and you are *' made for ever."" This moderate and excellent man was much perplexed about his ministerial duty at the restoi'ation. blatters were unexpectedly and uuAvisely carried with a high hand against the late ecclesiastical establishment; whereas it is probable, a spirit of wisdom and moderation at that time m church-fu'ers would have left the number of noncon- formists too small to make them objects of severe laws and persecutions. Had some of our leading men in the esta^ blishment conducted the matter with the Christian meek- ness that becomes their order, instead of carnal resent-i ments, it would have put tlieir own characters in a much higher point of vifw, and have afforded a blessing to the nation, the loss of which every good man of every per- suasion may justly dej)lore. The grand question, first set on foot, was, whether to conform or no? Mr. Henry used all means possible to satisfy himself concerning it, by reading and discourse, particularly at Oxford with Dr. Fell, (aftervards Bishop of Oxibrd) but in vain; his dissatistaclion remained; " How- " ever (saith he) I dare not judge those that do conform, •' for who am I, that I should judge my brother.^" In September, A. D. IGOO, Tvlr. Fogg and Mr. Steel and J\Ir. Henry, were presented at Flint assizes for not read- ing Si p. H E N R Y. ing the common prayer, tlioiigh as yet it was not enjoin- ed ; but there were some busy people, that would out- run the law. They entered their appearance, and it fell ; for soon after the king's declaration, touching ecclesiasti- cal aiTairs, came out, which promised liberty, and gave liopes of settlement ; but, the spring assizes afterwai'ds, Mr. Steel and ]\Ir. Henry were presented again. On this he writes: " Be merciful to me, O God, for man would " swallow me up. The Lord shew me what he would *' have me to do ; for I am afraid of nothing but sin." In November, A. D. 1660, he took the oath of alle- giance at Orton, before Sir Thomas Harmier, and two other justices ; of which he hath left a memorandum in his Diary, with this added, " God so help me, as I purpose " in my heart to do accordingly :"" Nor could any more conscientiously observe that oath of God than he did, nor more sincerely promote the ends of it. He preached sometimes occasionally in several neigh- bouring places, till Bartholomew-Day, A. D. 166t, " the " day (saith he) which our sins have made one of the sad- *' dest days to England, since the death of Edward VI. *' but even this for good, though we know not how ** nor wliich way," He was invited to preach at Bangor on this sad Bartliolomew-Day, and prepared a sermon on John vii. 37. In ihe. last day, that great day of the feast, &c. but was prevented from j)reaching it; and was loth to strive against so strong a stream. The re-ordination, which was insisted upon, and renun- ciation of his former ministry, was the first and great bar to his conformity, and which he mostly insisted on. He would sometimes say, " That for a presbyter to be or- " dained a deacon, is at the best, suscipere gradum Simeo- *' »ns." One thing which he comforted himself with in his nonconformity was, that, as to matters of doubtful disputation touching church-government, ceremonies, and tlie like, he was unsworn either on one side or the other, and so was free from those snares and bands in which so many found themselves both tied up from what they would do, and entangled that they knew not what to do. Had the moderation, which now obtains in the establish- ment, been then exercised, such men as Mr. Henry, how- ever he might have disliked some non-essentials, had never been forced out of it. The true way of reducing dis- sensions, unless they are in arms, is to let them alone. If they are of man, they will soon crumble away of themselves. His p. HENRY. 85 His moderation in his nonconformity was very exem- plary and eminent, and had a great influence upon many, to keep them from running into uncharitable and sciiis- matical separations, which, upon all occasions, he bore his testimony against, and was very industrious to stem the tide of In church-governvnent, that which he desir- ed and wished for, was Archbishop Usher's reduction of episcopacy. He thought it lawful to join in the common prayer in public assemblies, and practised accordingly, and endeavoured to satisfy others concerning it. The spirit he was of, was such as made him much afraid of extremes, and solicitous for nothing more than to maintain and keep Christian love and charity among professors. At Michaelmas, A. D. 1662, he quite left Worthenbury, and came with his family to 13road-Oak, just nine years from his first coming into the country. Being cast by Providence into this new place and state of life, his care and prayer was, that he might have " Grace and wis- " dom to manage it to the glory of Gon, which (saith " he) is my chief end." Within three weeks after his coming hither, his second son, MattheAv, v/ as born, which we mention, for the sake of the remark he has upon it: " We have no reason (saith he) to call him Benoni; I " wish we had not to call him Ichabod." For several years after he came to live at Broad-Oak, he went con- stantly every Lord's day to the public worship, with his family, at Whitehall chapel, (wliich is near) if there were any supply there, as sometimes there was from IMalpas ; and if none, then to Tylstock, (w!\ere Mr. Zachary Tho- mas continued for about half a year) and when that string failed, usually to Whitchurch, and did not preach for a great while, imless occasionally, when he visited his friends, or to his own family on a Lord's day, when the weather hindered them from going abroad. In October, A. D. 1663, Mr. Steel and Mr. ITcMiy and some other of their friends, were taken up and brought prisoners to Hanmer, under pretence of some plot said to be on foot against the government; and thine th^y were kept under confinement some davs, on which he writes : " It is sweet being in any condition with a clear con- " science: The sting of deatii is sin, and so of imprison- " ment also. It is the first time (saith he) I was ever a " prisoner, but perhaj)s may not be the last. We ielt no *■' hardship, but we know not what we may." They were after some davs examined by the deputy lieutenants, charged with they knew not vrhat, and so dismissed; find- ins?: 86 P. H E N R Y. ing verbal security to be forth-coming upon twenty-four hours'' notice, whenever they should be called for. Mr. Henry returned to his house with thanksgiviiJgs to God, and a hearty prayer for his enemies, that Goo would for- give them. The very next day after they were released, a great man in the country, at whose instigation they wei-e broughi into thai trouble, died (as was said) of a drunko'i surllnt. So that a man shall say, Vtril^j there is a Gou th it judgelh. in the earth. In the beginning oi" the year 16G5, when the act for a roval aid to his majesty of two millions and a half came out, the conmiissioners for Flintshire were pleased to nominate Mr, Henry sub-collector of the said tax for the township of Iscoyd, and Mr. Steel for the township of Planmer. They intendi^d thereby to put an affront and disparagement upon their ministry, and to shev\ that they looked upon them but as laymen His note uj)on it is : *' It is not a sin which they put us upon, but it is a cross, " and a cross in our way, and therefore to be taken up " and borne with patience. When I had better work to *' do, I was wanting in my duty about it; and now this " is put upon me, the Lord is righteous." He procured the gathering of it by others, only took account of it, and saw it duly done. In the beginning of the year 1667, he removed with his family to Whitchurch, and dwelt there above a year, except about a quarter of a year about harvest, he re- tui'ned again to Broad-Oak. His removal to Wliitchnrch was partly to quiet his adversaries, who were ready to quarrel with him upon the Five-mile Act, and partly for the benefit of the school there for his children. AVhile he lived at Whitchurch, he attended constantly upon the public ministry, and there (as ever) he was care- ful to come at the beginning of the service, which be at- tended upon with reverence and devotion, standing all the time, even while the chapters were read. In the even- ing of the Lord's day, he spent some time in instructing his family, to which a few of his friends and neighI)ours in the tov/n would sometimes come in; and it was a little gleam of opportunity, but very short, for (as he notes) he was offended at it, who should rather have rejoiced, if by any means the work might be carried on in his people's souls. Notwithstanding the severity of the laws then enforced against the nonconformists, Mr. Henry, in A. 1). 1669, preached in some very private meetings, and (what was a proof p. H E N R Y. 87 proof of his truly Christian temper) exhorted constantly to patience and resignation under the sudcrings imposed, insisting upon this point: " That it is the character of *' the people of God, that they are a quid people in the " land.'''' This quietness he described to be an orderK'-, peaceable subjection to governors and government in the Lord. We must maintain a reverend esteem of them, and of their authority, in opjjosition to despising dominiony 2 Peter ii. 10. We must be meek under severe com- mands and burdensome impositions, not murmuring and complaining, as the Israelites against Moses and Aaron, but take them up as our cross in our way, and bear tlnm, as we do foul weather. We must not speak evil of dig- nities, Jude 8. nor revile the gods or great ones, Exod. xxii. 28. Paul ciiecked himself for this, Acts xxii'. 5. * I did not consider it: if I had, I would not iuive said ' so.' We must not traduce their government, as Absa- lom did David's, 2 Sam. xv. 3. Great care is Ui be taken how we speak of the faults of any, especially of rulers, Eccles. x. 20. The people of Gou do mak':' the word of Goi) their rule, and by that they are taught, 1. That magistracy/ is God's ordinance, and m^'gistrates Gods ministers; that bi/ him Kings reign, and the powers that be are ordained of him. 2. That they, as well as others, are to have their dues, honour, and fear, and tribute. 3. That their lawful commands are to be obeyed, and that readily and cheerfully, I Tim. iii. 1. 4. That the penalties inflicted for not obeying unlaw- ful commands, are patiently to be undergone. This is the rule, and as many as walk according to this rule, peace shall be upon them, and that there be no danger of their unpeaceableness. They are taught to pray for kings, and all in aufhoriti/, 1 Tim. ii. 1, 2. And God forbid we should do otherwise; yea, though they persecute. Jer. xxix. vii. Peaceable prayers bespeak a peaceable people, Psal. cix. 4. If some, professing religion, have been im- quiet, their unquietness hath given the He to their )mo- fession, Jude 8, 11, 12. Quietness is our badge, Col. iii. 12. — it will be our strength, Isa. xxx. 15. our re- joicing in the day of evil, Jer. xviii. 18. — it is pleasing to God, 1 Tim. ii. 2, 3. —it may work upon others, 1 Peter ii. 12, 13. The means he prescribed for keeping us quiet, were to get our hearts filled with the know- ledge of these two things: 1. That the Kingdom ofChriat is NOT OF THIS ivoRLD, Johu xviii. 36. Many luive thought otherwise: and it hatli made them unquiet. 2. Thm 88 P. H E N R Y. That the wrath of men n-orketh not the righteousness of GoDy James i. 20. He needs not our sin to bring to pass his own counsel. We must mortify unquietness in the causes of it, James iv. 1. We must always remember the oath of God, Eccles. viii. 2. The oath of allegiance is an oath of quietness, and we must beware of tlie company and converse of those that are unquiet, Prov. xxii. 24', 25. Though deceitful matters be devised, yet we must be quiet still; nay, be so much the more quiet. All that knew Mr. Henry, knew very well, that his practice, all his days, was consonant to these his settled princiiiles. In May 1668, he returned again with his family from Whitchurch to Broad-Oak, which, through the goodness of Gou, continued his settled home, without any re- moval from it, till he was removed to his long home, above twenty-eight years after. The edge of the Five- mile Act now began a little to abate, at least in that coun- try; and he was desirous to be more useful to the neigh- bours, among whom God had given him an estate, than he could be at a distance from them, by relieving the poor, employing the labourers, and especially instructing the ignorant, and helping as many as he could to heaven. He was very affable and easy of access, and admirably patient in hearing every one's complaint, which he would answer with so mucli prudence and mildness, and give such apt advice, that many a time to consult with him was to ask counsel at Abel, and so to end the matter. He observed, in almost all quarrels that happened, that there was a fault on both sides ; and that generally they were most in the fault, that were most forward and clamorous in their complaints. One making her moan to him of a bad husband she had, that, in this and the other instance, was unkind ; and ' Sir, (said slie, after a ' long complaint, which he patiently heard) what would * you have me to do now?' — " Why, truly, (said he) I " would have you to go home, and be a better wife to " him, and then you'll find that he will be a better hus- " band to you." Labouring to persuade one to forgive an injury that was done him, he urged this: " Are you " not a Chi'istianP" and followed that argument so close, that at last he prevailed. Four rules he sometimes gave to be observed in our converse with men : " Have communion with few : Be " familiar with one: Deal justly with all: Speak evil of *? none." J have p. HENRY. 89 I have heard him often blame those, whose irregular zeal, in the profession of religion, makes them to neglect their worldly business, and let the house drop through, the affairs of which tiie good mari ivill order with discretion. And he would tell sometimes of a religious woman, whose fault it was, and how she was convinced of it, by means of an intelligent godly neighbour, who coming into the house, and finding the good woman, far in the day, in her closet, and the house sadly neglected, children not tended, servants not minded ; ' What (said he) is there no fear * of Goj) in this house ?' which much started and af- fected the good woman, that overheard him. His greatest care about the things of this world, was how to do good with what he had, and to devise liberal things ; desiring to make no other accession to his estate, but only that blessing which attends beneficence. He did firmly believe (and it should seem few do) that w/iat is given to the poor is lent to the Lord, who will pay it again, in kind or in kindness, and that religion and piety is un- doubtedly the best friend to outward prosperity, and he found it so ; for it pleased Goo abundantly to bless his habitation, and to make a hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he had : And though he did not delight himself in the abundance of wealth, yet (which is far better) he delighted himself in the ahunoana of peace. Psalm XXX vii. 2. All that he had and did, observably prospered ; so tliat the country oftentimes took notice of it, and called his family, a family wiiich the Lord had blessed. And his comforts of that kind were (as he used to pray they might be) oil to the wheels of his obedience ; and in tiie use of these things he served the I^ord his Gon with joyfulness and gladness of heart, yet still mindful of, and grieved for the afflictions of Joseph. He would say some- times, when in the midst of the comforts of this life, as a good man said, " All this and heaven too ! surely then " we serve a good IMaster !"" Thus did the. Lord bless him, and make him a blessing ; and this abundant gracc^ through the thanksgiving of many, redounded to the glorxj of God. In the time of trouble and distress, by the Conventicle Act, in 1G70, he kept jnivate, and stirred but little abroad, as loth to offend those that were in jiower, and judging it prudence to gather in his sails, when the storm was vio- lent : He then observed, as that which he was troubled at, '' That there was ^ great deal of precious time lost among *' professorg 90 P. H E N R Y. *' professors, when they came together, in discoursing *' of their adventures, and their escaj)es, which he feared *' tended more to set up self, than to give glory to " Goj) : Also in telling, how they got together, and that " such a one preaclied, but little inquiring what spiritual *' benefit and advantage was reaped by it, and that we are *' apt to nialce t!ie circumstances of our religious services " more the matter of our discourse, than the substance of *' them."" He took all occasions to mention this as his settled principle: " In those things wherein all the people " of Goi are agreed, I will spend my zeal ; and wherein '- they differ, I will endeavour to walk according to the *' light that God hath given me,, and charitably believe, " that Others do so too." Whatever lectures were set up in the country round, it was still desired that Mr.|Henry would begin them, (which was thought no small encouragement to those who were to carry them on) and very happy he was, both in the choice and in tlie management of his subjects at such op- portunities, seeking to find out acceptable words. Take one specimen of his address, when he began a lecture with a sermon, on Heb. xii. 15. "I assure you (saith he) and *' God is my witness, I am not come to preach either *' sedition against the peace of the state, or schism against " the peace of the chiu'ch, by persuading you to this or " to tiiat opinion or party ; but as a minister of Christ, *' that hath received mercy from the Lord, to desire to " be faithful. My errand is to exhort you to all possible " seriousness in the great business of your eternal salva- *' tion, according to my text, which if the Lord Avill *' make as profitable to you, as it is material, and of " weiglit in itself, neither you nor I shall have cause to " repent our coming hither, and our meeting to-day; '■' looking' diligently^ lest any nj you fail of the grace of God. <• If it were the last sermon I were to preach, I should " not know how to take my aim better to do you good." In doing of this work, he often said, that he looked upon himself but as an assistant to the parish ministers, in promoting the common interests of Christ's kingdom, and tlic common salvation of precious souls, by the explication and application of those great truths, wherein we are all agreed. And he would compare t!ie case to that in Ilczcklali's time, when the Levites Ijelpcd the priests to kill the sacrifice, which was sometiiing of an irregularity, but the exigence of affairs called for it ; the priests being too few, and some of them not so careful, as they should have p. H E N R Y. 91 liave been, to sanctify themselves ; see 2 Chron. xxix. 3i. And wherever he preacho.-l, he iisuaHy prayed tor the parish minister, and for a biesslng vipon his ministry. He has often said, how well pleased he was vthen, after he had preached at Oswestry, he went to visit the minister of the plate, Mr. Edwards, a vvort.'iy ;rood man, and told him, " He had been sowing a handful of seed among his *' people," and had this answer : ' That's well ; the * Lord prosper your seed and mine too ; there's need * enough of us both,' AVhenever he preached of moral duties, he would al- ways have something of Christ in his sermon ; either his LIFE, as the great patlcru of the duty ; or his lo\ r;, as the great motive to it ; or his meuit, as making atonement for the neglect of it. Some have wondered to see how courteously and friendly lie would speak to such as had been any way injurious to him, w hen he met with them ; being as industrious to discover his forgiving of wrongs, as some are to discover their resentments of them. It was said of Archbisliop Cranmer, that the way to have him one's friend, was to do him an unkindness ; and I am sure, it might be said of Mr. Henry, that doing him a diskindness woidd not make him one's enemy. This reminds me of an exemplary pas- sage, concerning his worthy friend, Mr. Edward Lav\ rence, once going, with some of his sons, by the house of a gen- tleman that had been injurious to him, he gave a charge to his sons to this purpose : " That they should ni^ver " think or speak amiss of that gentleman, lor the sake " of any thing he liad done against him ; but whenever *' they went by his house, should lift up their hearts in " prayer to God for him and his family." It was not without some fear and trembling, that Mr. Henry received the tidings of the Prince of Orange's land-, ing, in November 1G8S, as being somewhat in the dark concerning the clearness of his call, and dreading what might be the consequence of it. He used to say, that Give peace in our time, O Lord, was a prayer which h© could heartily set his amen to. But when secret thing* were brought to light, and a regular course was taken t© fill the vacant throne with such a king and such a queen, none rejoiced in it more heartily than he did. He cele- brated the national thanksgiving for that great deliverance with an excellent sermon on that text, Uom. viii. 31. What shall we then sai/ to these things ? JJ God be for us, tcho tv/»i be against Jis ? Soo« 02 P. HENRY. Soon after that happy settlement, there were overtures made towards a comprehension of the moderate dissenters •with the church of England, which !Mr. Henry most hear- tily desired and wished for, if it could be had upon any terms less than sinning against his conscience ; for never "was any more averse to that which looked like a sepa- ration than he was, if he could possibly have helped it, salca conscientia. His prayers were constant, and his en- deavours, as he had opportunity, that there might be some Iiealing metliods found out and agreed uj)on. In June 16S9, the Act of Indulgence passed, which not only tolerated, but allowed the dissenters' meetings, and took them under the protection of the government. Soon after which, though he never in the least changed his judgment as to the lawfulness of joining in the common- prayer, but was still ready to do it occasionally, yet the ministers that preached at Whitewell-chapel, being often imcertain in their coming, which kept his meeting at Broad Oak at like uncertainties, to the frequent disap- pointment of his hearers that came from far ; he was at last prevailed with to preach at public time every Lord's day. which he continued to do as long as he lived, much to his own satisfaction, and to the satisfaction of his friends. Sometimes he had such with him, as had gone through their course of learning at private academies, and desired to spend some time in his family before their entrance upon the ministry, that they might have fhe benefit, not only of his public and family instructions, but of his , learned and pious conversation ; in which, as he was thoroughly furnished for every good word and w^ork, so he was very free and communicative. The great thing, which he used to press upon those who intended the mi- nistry, was to study the Scriptures, and make them fami- liar. Bonus texluarms est. bonus iheologtis, was a maxim he often minded them of. For this purpose he recom.mended to them the study of the Hebrew, that tliey might be able fo search the Scriptures in the original. He also advised ihem to the vise of an interleaved Bibie, Avherein to insert jjiich expositions and observations, as occur occasionally in , sermons or other books ; which, he would say, are more happv and considerable sometimes, than those that are found in the professed commentators. In the time of his health he made death very fiuniliar to himself, by frequent and pleasing thoughts and medi- tations of it ; and endeavoured to make it so to his friends, by p. HENRY. 93 bv speaking often of it. His letters and discourses had still something or other which spoke his constant expecta- tions of death ; thus did he learn to die daihj : And it is hard to say, whether it was more easy for him to speak, or uneasy to Ids friends to hear him speak, of leaving the world. This reminds me of a passage I was told by a worthy Scots minister, ]\lr. Patrick Adair, that visiting the famous Mr. Durham of Glasgow in his last sickness, wiiich was long and lingering, he saiil to him, ' Sir, I • hope you have so set ail in order, that you have nothing * else to do but to die."" — ' I bless God (said Mr. l)ur- * ham) I have not had that to do neither, these many • years.'' Such is the comfort of dying daily, when we coP-ie to die indeed. Mr. Henry's constitution was but tender, and yet, by the blessing of God upon his great tenjperance, and care of his diet, and moderate exercise by walking in the air, he did for many years enjoy a good measure of health, which he used to call " the sugar that sweetens all tem- *' poral mercies, lor which, therefore, we ought to be «< very thankful, and of which we ought to be very care- *' ful." He had sometimes violent fits of the cholic, which ^vould be very afflictive for the time. Towards his lat- ter end, he was distressed sometimes with a pain, which his doctor thoujiht mijrht arise from a stone in his kid- neys. Being once upon a recovery from an ill ht of that pain, he said to one of his friends that asked him how he did, he hoped " by the grace of God, he should now " be able to give one blow more to the devil's kingdom ;" and often professed he did not " desire to live a day longer " than he might do God some service." He said to ano- ther, when he perceived himself recovering : " Well, I " thought I had been putting into the harbour, but find " I must put out to sea again." .He was sometimes suddenly taken with fainting fits, which when he recovered from, he would say, " dying is *' but a little more." When he was in the sixty-third year of his age, which is commonly called the grand cli- macteric, and hath been to many their dying year, and w^as so to his father ; he numbered the days of it, from August the 24th, 1G93, to August the 24th, 1G94, when he finished it : And when he concluded it, he thus wrote in his Diary : " This day finished my commonly dying *' year, which I iiave numbered the days of, and should *' now apply my heart more than ever to heavenly wis- " dom." He was much pleased with that expression of our H P. H E N R Y. our English liturgy, in the office of burial, and frequently used it : " In the midst of life, we are in death."" A little before iiis sickness and death, being summer- time, he had several of his children, and his children's children, about him at Broad-Oak, with whom he was much refreshed, and very cheerful ; but ever and anon spoke of the fashion he was in, as passing away ; and often toid them, he should be there bui a while to bid them welcome. And he was observed frequently in pray- er, to beg of Gon, that " he would make us ready for " that, which would come certain! v, and might come •* suddenly." One asking him how he did, he answered, " I find tlie chips fly off apace, the tree will be down *' shortly." The Sabbath but one before he died, being, in the course of his exposition, come to that difficult part of Scripture, the fortieth of Ezekiel, and the following chapters, he said he would endeavour to explain those prophecies to them ; and added, " If I do not do it now, I never shall:" And he observed, that the only prophetical sermon which our Lord Jesus preached, was but a few days before he died. This many of his hearers not only reflected upon after- wards, but took notice of at that time, with a concern, as having something in it more than ordinary. On the Loi'd's Day, June 21, 1696, he went through the work of the day with his usual vigour and liveliness. He was then preaching over the first chapter of St. Peter's second epistle, and was that day on those words, add to your faith virtue, verse 5th. He took virtue for Christian courage and resolution in the exercise of faith ; and the last thing he mentioned, in which Christians have need of courage, is in dying ; " for (as he often used to say) it is a serious *' thing to die ; and to die is a work by itself." On the Tuesday following, June 23, he rose at six o'clock, according to his custom, after a better niglit's sleep than ordinary, and in usual health. Between seven and eight o'clock he performed family worship, according to his manner ; he expounded, very largely, the former half of the 104th Psalm, and sung it ; but he was some- what shorter in prayer than ho used to be, being then (as it was thought) taken ill. Blessed is that servant ivhom his Lord, when he comes, shall/hid so doing. Immediately after prayer he retired to his cliamber, not saying any thing of his illness, but was soon after found upon his bed in great extremity of pain, in his back, breast, and bowels ; it seemed to be a complicated fit of the stone and r. H E N R Y. 0.5 and cliollc together, with very great extremity. The means that had been used to give him re'iefin iiis illness, were altogether inefFeclual : He had not the least inter- mission or remission of pain, neither up nor in bed. He had said sometimes, " That God's Israel may find Jor- " dan rough ; l)ut there's no remedy, tjiey must go throii-^h " it to Canaan;" and he would tell of a good man tliat used to say, ' He was not so much afraid of death as of * dying."" We know they are not the godly people, part of the descnj)tion of whose condition it is, that there are no banda in tlicir deaths and yet their ch(/ is peace, and their death i^aiuy and they have hope in it. It was two or three hours alter he was taken ill, before he would sufTer a messenger to be sent to Chester for his son, and for the doctor, saying, " He should either be " better or dead before they could come:" But at last he said, as tlie prophet did to his importunate friends, Send. About eight oYlock that evening they came, and found him in the same extremity of pain, which he had been in all the day. And nature, being before spent with his con- stant and indefatigable labours, now sunk under its bur- den, and was quite unable to grapple with so many hours incessant pain. What further means were then used proved fruitless. He apprehended himself going apace, and said to his son when he came in, " O son, you are *' welcome to a dying fatlier : I am now ready to be of- " fered, and the time of my departure is at hand." His pain continued very acute, but he had peace within. " I " am tormented, (said he once;) but, blessed be Gon, " not in this tianie;" and, soon al\er, " I am all on fire," (when at the same time his extreme parts were cold) but he presentlv added, " Ulessed be Gon, it is not the fire *' of hell"' Towards ten or eleven o'clock that night, his pulse and sight began to fail ; of the latter he liimself took notice, and inferred from it the near approach of his dissolution. He took an affectionate farev.eil of his dear yoke-fellow, with a thousand thanks for all her love, and care, and ten- derness, left a blessing for all his dear children, and their dear yoke-fellows and little ones that were absent. He said to his son, who sat under his head, " Son, the I.ord *' bless you, and grant that you may do worthily in your *' generation, and be more serviceable to the church of " God than I have been." Such was his great humility to the last. And when Ids son replied, ' O Sir, pray for * me, that I may but tread in your steps ;' he answered, " Yea, 96 r. H E N n Y. " Yea, follow peace and holiness ; and then let them saj '•' what they will.''"' — IMore he would have siiid to bear his dying testimony to the way in which he had walked, but nature was spent, and he had not strength to ex- press it. His understanding and speech continued almost to the last breath ; and he was still, in his dying agonies, calling upon God, and committing himself to him. One of the last words he said, when he found himself just ready to depart, was, " O death where is thy ;" Avith that bis speech faultered, and within a few minutes (after about sixteen hours' illness) he quietly breathed out his precious soul into the embraces of his dear Redeemer, whom he had trusted, and faithfully served in the work of the mi- nistry about forty-three years. He departed betwixt twelve and one o'clock in the morning, on June the 24'th, Midsummer-Day, A. D. 1696. in the sixty-fifth year of his age. Happy, thrice happy he, to whom such a sud- den change was no surprize, and who could triumph over death, as an unstrung, disarmed enemy, even when he made so fierce an onset ! He had often spoke of it as his desire, that, if it were the will of God, " he might not *' outlive his usefulness ;" and it pleased God to grant him his desire, and to give him a short passage from the pulpit to the kingdom, from the height of his usefulness to receive the recompence of reward. So was it ordered by him, in whose hands our times are. His body was buried on the 27th of June following in Whitchurch church, attended with a very great com- pany of true mourners from all the country round, even from Chester and Shrewsbury, who followed his corpse with many tears. He was averse to all ostentation, and used to say to his relations, " When I am dead, make " but little ado about me : a few will serve to bring me " to my grave." But his mind in this respect could not be followed. Many testimonies were given of his great worth, and some are recited in his life written more at large by his son, to which we must refer the reader. We will only subjoin to this long account some few sentences of this excellent man which were gathered up from his preaching and conversation, as he himself never published any thing. Though Mr. Henry, (says his great and pious son; through the excess of his modesty and self-ditfidence, never published any of his labours to the world, nor ever fitted or prepared any of them for the press ; yet none p. HENRY. 97 hone more valued the labours of others, or rejoiced more in tliem ; nor have I heard any complain less of the mul- titude of good books, concerning which he often said, *' That store is no sore;^' and he was very forward to per- suade others to publisli; and always expressed a particular pleasure in reading the lives, actions, and sayings of emi- nent men, ancient and modern, which he thouoht the most useful and instructive kind of writings. He was al- so a very candid reader of books, not apt to pick quarrels with wiiat he read, especially when the design appeared to be honest; and when others would find fault, and say this was wanting, and the other amiss, his usual excuse was, " There is nothing perfect under the sun."" 'Twas a saying he frequently used, that " every crea- *' ture is that to us, and only that, which God makes it *' to be." And another was, " Duty is our's; events are " Goi>"'s." And another was, " The e volumes, then their preteu-ions to thij brotherhood oiay merit consi leratioo. At present, we think it a duty uol to mingle the characters of men, who, when alive, would not r. H E N R Y. 99 The great thinc^ tliat he condemned and witnessed Rgainst in the church of ]lome, was their monopolizinsf of the church, and condemning all that are not in with their interests, which is so directly contrary to the spirit of the gospel, as nothing can be more. lie sometimes said, " I *' am too much a catholic to be n Roman catholic." He often expressed himself well pleased with St. Aus- tin's healing rule, which, if duly observed, would put an end to all our divisions: " Sit in necessariis unilas, in non " necessariis h'herta^, in omnibus charitas.'''' " In necessari/ *' things let there be unitj/ ; in things not necessary, li~ ** berly; and in all things, charily P'' lie observed from Numb. x. 12. " That all our removes " in this world are but from one wilderness to another. " Upon any change that is before us, we are apt to pro- *' niise ourselves a Canaan ; but \ye shall be deceived ; it *' will prove a wilderness"" AVhcn some zealous people in the country would have him to preach against top-knots, and other vanities in ap- parel, he would say, " that was none of liia business; if he " could persuade people to Christ, the pride, and vanity, *' and excess of those things would fall of course;" and 3'et he had a dislike to vanity and gaiety of dress, and al- lowed it not in those that he had influence upon. His rule was, that in such things v/e must neither be owls nor apes ; not affect singularity, nor affect modisliness; nor (as he used to observe from 1 Pet. iii. 3.) " make the *' putting on of apparel our adorning, because Christians *' have better things to adorn themselves with." Speaking of the causes of atheism, he had this observa- tion : " That a head full of vain and unjirofitable notions, " meeting with a heart full of pride and self-conceited- " ness, dispose a man directly to be an atheist." A gentlewoman, that upon some unkiwdness betwixt her and her husband, was parted from him, and lived se- parately near a twelvemonth, grew melancholy, and com- plained of sin, and the withdrawing of the light of God's countenance, and the want of assurance ; he told her, *' She must rectify what was amiss l;etween her and her " husband, and return into the way of duty, else it was " in not have wished to be so min?1ed, but rather would have followed thR Apostle Paul's precept of rekclion, and the Apo>t!e John's example of avoiding those who, like Cerinlhus!, traduce th(- Divine Nature of their Gou and Savioir. Reputed probity abme niM not aHord a sufficient litle, for Socrate, and many ether lieatiiens haii this, but that sort of Christianity which our excellcDt I'leacher here speaks of, upon Joha xvii. ^l. 100 f . H E N R Y. " in vain to expect peace." Her friends were against it ; but he said, '• he was confident it would prove so." He said, he had observed concerning himself, " That *' he was sometimes the worse for eating, but never for *' abstinence; sometimes the worse for wearing too few *' clothes, but never for wearing too many; sometimes " the worse for speaking, but never for keeping silence." '• We have three uuchangeables to oppose to all other *' mutabilities ; an unchangeable covenant, an unchange- " able God, and an unchangeable heaven: And. while *' these three remain the same, yesterday, to-day, and for *' ever, welcome the will of our heavenly Father in all *' events that may happen to us; come what will, nothing " can come amiss to us.""' In a letter to a friend, he said: " As to the accession " lately made to your estate, much good may it do you: *' that is, much good may you do with it, which is the *' true good of an estate. The Lady Warwick would ** thank him that would give her a thousand a-year, and *' tie her up fr^m doing good with it. I rejoice in the *'• large heart >vhich God hath given you with your large *' estrte, without which heart the estate would be your " snare." We will only add some sayings of Mr. Edward Lau- rence, one of Mr. Philip Henry's friends, which Mr. Matthew Henry has annexed to the life of his father. They are too choice to be omitted. At his meals, Mr. Laurence woidd often speak of * using * God's creatures as his witnesses that he is good ; and * we cannot conceive how much good our God doth ' every moment.^ An expression of his great regard to justice, was that common caution he gave his children, ' Tremble to borrow two-pence ;' and of his tenderness and meekness this : ' Make no man angry nor sad.' He often said, ' I adore the wisdom of God, that he hath * not seen meet to trust me with riches.' When he saw little children playing in the streets, he would often lift up his heart in an ejaculatory prayer to God for them, calling them ' the seed of the next generation.' Wheh his friend chose to ride the back-way into town, he plea- santly checked him, telling him, ' that his heart had been ' often refreslied, when he hath looked out oi the window, * and seen a good man go along the streets.' He used to say, ' That Cromwell did more real prejudice to religion * by his hypocrisy, than King Charles IL did, that never * pretended to it. As also, ' That he feared the sins of ' the land more than the French.' A friend BAILY. 101 A friend of his in the country, writing to him not long before he died, desired Iiistlioughts concerning tlie differ- ences among the London dissenters, to wluch he returned this answer : ' I can say little concerning our divisions, * which, when some men''s judgments and tempers are * healed, will be also healed. But, when will that be ? * They that have most holiness are most peaceable, and * have most comfort."' This memoir hath been rather prolix; but indeed it was hard to abridge. Much excellent matter hath been ne- cessarily omitted ; for which we must refer the reader to the history of his life drawn by his son, whci'e a pious miind cannot but find delight and edification. JOHN BAILY. XI E was a Minister of the gospel in New England, but was born February 24-, 1643, near Blackburn, in Lanca- shire, of a very pious mother; who, before he was born, dedicated him unto the service of God. On the annual return of his birth-day, he used to take notice of the goodness of God towards him, and make humble and useful reflections thereon. ' Once, particu- * larly, (says his pious biographer) I find him thus enter- ' taining himself: " This is my birth-day; I am ready " to say of it, as Job doth of his : But I forbear any un- *' advised words about it. Only I have done little for ** God, and much against him, for which I am sorry." When this day last returned, he thus wrote : " I may say " with a great sigh, this was my birth-day. O how little *' good have I done all this wliile ! O what reason have I to *' stand amazed at the riches of Goo's forbearance! Much '* may happen this year ! Lord, carry me tbiough it !" From a child he knew the holij Scriptures, and from a ciiiid was wise unto salvation; givinggreat and constant evidence of it, by his habitual fear of God, and the practice of daily prayer. There was one very remarkable cfiect of it. His father was a man of a very licentious conversation: And his mother one day took him while he was a child, and calling the family together, made him to pray witli them. His father coming to understand at what rate the child liad prayed with the family, it smote his soul with great con- viction, and proved the bejjinning of his conversion. ^ '' "" This 102 BAIL Y. This hopeful youth was educated under two worthy tutors in classical learning ; and, about the age of twen- ty-two, he entered on the public preaching of the gospeL He began at Cliester, but aftervs of the firmament, as the stars, and as the sun, in the kingdom of our Father. In the consideration of these things, let us be diligent, sledfast, unmoveable, and abovjnding in our ministerial work, that our labour may not be in vain. And if this life I have written may contribute herpunto, I shall rejoice. And let me afld this advice, that our preaching be managed with respect to the prevailing errors of our times, to prevent our congregations from beinj; infected by them. Deism is the taking error among men of parts and learning; and it gains among more ordinary peojde ; so that we are in danger of preserving only natural religion, and letting go supernatural and divinely reveai'jd Scripture truths. If care be not taken, religion among us will be only remembering our Creator, forgetting our Redeemer and Com- forter, and the addresses in our litany will go no fartjier than to GOD the Futile: of heaven. Let us then preach the divinity of Christ, the iucanwiion of the Son of God, and shew our people, that less than one truly God Could not have been a sufficieiit king, priest, or prophet to the church. And let us not fail to open and conlirm to them the doctrine of Christ's satisfaction made for our sins, by iiis being a real sa- rrifice, made sin or a sin-offering for us. Too many in our age depre- ciate Christ, and account him only the most excellent man that ever was. And let iis, in a just opposition, magnify Christ, and acquaint our con- gregations, th'il his ioJ/2gi forth zcere fium evcrlasibig, thai he is t/is Tn't^khj tiOT), und everluiling lather : And that he did not die only as a martyr, bearing testimony to truth, but dying charged with our sins, bearing our iiiiqtiities and sufferings, and atoning for them, as is abiir.- dautly declared in Scripture, and in the communion otiice of our church, and in some of tlie collects. In defence of the Christian religion, let us preach more of the person, natures and offices of Christ, and of justifi- cation, nut hy our best works, but by him, and faith in him, which is the church of England doctrine. Let us not stop in the dictates of Plutarch, Seneca, and F.pictetus, but directly preach the evangelical triilhs ci'ii- cerning our Redeemer, and redemption by him; and let our people knonr a true faith is .is needful to salvation as a good life, in opposition to a growing, spreading, pernicious error, that it matters not what men be- lieve, provided they live a good life; and that a Jew, or a 'lurk, or an heathen, are in as good a condition as Christians, provided that they are not debauched and lewd in their manners. And that we may stem the Arian and Sociuian tide, let us preach much concerning the Holy Spirit, and show our congregations he is God, and a person distinct from Father and Son, though the same in essence. Let us shew them tie fioly Spirit's oo-operatinn with Father and Son in the works of crea- tion, providence, redemption, sanctilication, and resurrection; his offices •nith respect to the church and people of God, being their tcachtr, sanctilier, BURKITT. 117 clined to quit the innocent pleasantry, and turn tlie dis- course into a serious channel. In his common conversa- tion, he conducted himself with sobriety, justice, humili- ty, and affability. No spots were to be tbund in his feasts; no unworthy behaviour stained his holy character. A^ hcr- ever he appeared, there appeared the Christian and the minister. sanctifier, helper, remembrancer, and oomforfer, and that no good thing is done well wiihout his intliuince, aid, and assistance. Considering our l)ein^ baptized n the name of the Holy Cihosi, and (hat our lio.lies are his temples, and he seals us to the day '•( redemption, ue .'honhl not in our sermons l>e silent concerning the Hily Spirit. The Scripture speaks much of the Holy Spirit, and therefore wt- slioiild speak of him not a little; and the rather, that our congregations may pray with under- standing, 7n/ic not Ihy Holy Spirit from us. Cleame the thoughts of ovr hearts by the in.-piration of thy Hohj .^piit. Setid down t/n/ Holy S//iiit into our ht'ar/s. And that the conclusion of several prayers may b^' under- stootl, and not be iianler than Latin to tliem, viz. iuh-s, as St. Chrysostom's oxpositions of Scrif.ture are .-it- tended with his ilQlK'lN. And a suredly, exhortations to piety nnd ho- liness iu general, or to any particular branch of godliness, are rendered more lively bv being crafted i^pon tlie'stcck of some evangelical truth. This was St. Paul's meth d in bis Kp'stles to the ttomans, Galalians, P'phe- sians, Colossians, \w\ Hebrews, to insist iirsi upon s<)me gnat revealed truths, as the divinity of Christ or his prifstho^ d, or justiiicatioi; by faith, or the like, anri then bring in his e\hort-itioii to parents, cbildien, mas- ters, servants, husband^, and ni\ es, to live becoming the gospel, in all holiness. We may tlien suflficienily attend to our endeavourif g the re- formation of our several congregaiions, and yet preach much oncerning Christ and the Holy Glvst. -Mid we have gre.Tt patterns of it in our own church, and may have great help in it from the writings of some of them of great name, as Archbishop i slier. Bishop Pear on, Doctor .lack- son, and others. And as niovinf; to this, it is a deplorable thing, that as Britain bred the author of the Felagipn heresy, there should now be so much danger of the reviving Ariamsm in this island. Let us then use our endeavours to keep up the gieat doctrines of ihe Trinity, and incar- nation of tlie Son of God; and his satisfaction and justification by him, and of the impotency and opposition of nature to faith and godliness, and of our need of the aids of an Almighty Holy Spirit, by preach- ing these tilings. Relij.'ioii and godliness h::ve tiourished under these doctrines, and I verily believe piety *ill decay where these doctrines are forsaken, or not heeded. And we cannot do a better service than by- maintaining them in our preaching bv Scripture arguments, that it may appear we oppose Socinianism ex animo; and not only because otherwise we cannot read the church-service, in v»hich we have Te Dctnn, ('lor. Patri, Fil. Sp. Sand, and addresses to Christ, 0 lawb of GOD, Sou of David, have im-rcy on us, and ihe like. And I shall conclude to you, my reverend brethren, with my earnest wishes, st of his time in stiidyins;, preachin.', jiraying, and visitii'.:^ his tlock, ser^e■; and liunpur? the clmrch of Eni'Luid more viiaii they who waste much time in iimocent recreations, orworse.' B U II K I T T. 119 family in hearing them read the Scriptures, in examining tliem concerning the sermons they had lieard, in catechiz- ing thein, ill praising God, and in prayin<: with them and for them. He was a great redeemer of time. Variety of business and improvement were his chief diversions. He was a man more than ordinarily mortified to the plea- sures and vanities of the workh ' Upon the Lord's Day, October 17, 1703, in the place (says Mr. Parkhiirst) where he had i)]eaded the cause of God against Home, the cause of Christ against deism, the cause of the Holy Gimst igainst the deriders of his name and office, the cause of faith against justification by imperfect works, and the cause of special grace against the pretended powers of nature to save, he was struck vvitii that sickness which put an end to his days. His disorder was such as made him leave his beloved place the house of God, and it proved the last time of his appearance there. Upon returning to his house his distemper increased, but with intermissions, allowing some hap'py moments for thinking and speaking. In the short time of his ii'ness, and in the view of approaching death, he very seriously entertained his friends who came to visit him, and prayed much himself with great ardour. In the midst of his bo- dily affliction, devout aspirations, and blessed hopes, he remembered his beloved Dedham, and in the near jfpproach of death signed a letter to his diocesan, recoramending a successor to him, whom he hoped would be faithful and tliiigent in the spiritual care of the flock he was now leav- ing. In his sickness, God made his face to shine upon liini: The Spirit of God wiinessed with his spirit his adoption, and he went with a full sail to heaven, as one of his much-valued friends, a witness of it, expressed it; to whom, speaking of the high pleasures of the Lord's Supper, in which they had often joined, and calling the wine in the sacrament the v/ine of the kingdom, he broke forth into these words: " But what will it be to drink the wine of the kingdom in the kingdom. T Taking so- lemn leave of a friend a day or two before his death, he said, " I shall leave you ; but may the presence of Fa- ther, Son, and Holy Ghost be with you ; may the pre- sence of the whole Trinity be with you ! I hoi)e to see 3'ou again with joy, at the resurrection of the just." And he added, *' What you have seen in me that is good and imitable, follow it; but what you have observed is not so, let not vour afTection and love to me sway you to do it." Thu:: 120 B U R K I T T. Thus lived and died this holy man. God blessed the town of Dedham with Mr. Burkitt's ministry and labours eleven years and an half, and reiDuved him when he was not far gone in his declining age, when the powers of both body and mind were yet in their vigour. Ris strength was sucii, and he conducted himself with so much temperance and moderation in every thing but in liis work, (there in- deefl he exceeded) that it might have been hoped tliat he had been built for fourscore, but Gon took him away ■when lie was but just turned of fifty-three. A seven days" conllict with a very malignant fever put an end to Ids life. He was taken with his death-sickness upon one Lord's day, when he was in tlie service of God at cluuch, and he went to keep his everlasting Sabbath on the Lord's day after, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, wlien he rested from his labours, while his w^orks do follow him. He preached some time to the people of a country village at a considerable distance from his own charge, who for a long season had been seldom provided with sermons, and, by his endeavours and contribution, and assistance from others obtained by his interest, that village had a settled minister for some years. By his great care, pains, and charges, he ])rocured a pious minister to go and settle in Carolina. And he expended not a little of that v.ith which Goo had blessed !)im, toward the maintenance of some poor stu- dents in the University of Cambridge. In his last sickness, when his friends about him bewailed the great loss which they feared was coming upon them by his decease, he de- sired them " not to be too much concerned ior him, for to liim to live would be Christ, and to die would be gain ;'' and added, " That God would provide for them."" He blessed God that lie had finished what he designed upon the New Testament ; he said, that he had ushered this work into the world with many, very many prayers, and he hoped, through the divine blessing, that it would prove very beneficial to many, and especially to his own people. The declaration of several persons by his dying bed, that he had been the instrument of their conversion, put him into a transport of joy. His patience in his last sickness was very exemplary. He said he had j)rcachcd patience, and written of patience, and that therefore he was bound to practise patience. His frame in his sickness was a con- tinued series of prayer, thanksgiving, and cheerful resig- nation to the divine will. A little before he poured out his last breath, hp prayed, " Come, Lord Jesus, make 9 short work of it !' ■ His S P E N E R. 121 His Works. " I. A funeral Sermon for the Reverend Mr. William Gurnall, on Ilel). xiii. 7. II. An Argumen- tative and Practical Discourse on Infant Baptism. III. The Poor Man's Help, and the Young Man's Guide. IV. Family Instruction, a Catechism, explaining hy short Questions and Answers the great and necessary Doctrines of Faith and Holiness. V. His celebrated large work, entitled, Expository Notes, with practical Observations on the New Testament, folio." PHILIP JAMES SPENER, D. D. Philip JAMES SPENER, was bom the ISth of January 1635, at Rappolsweiler in the Upper Elsasz in Germany, of very pious parents, as he hiniseii' testifies, in his own account of his life. They devoted him to tlie ser- vice of God from his birth. With respect to his natu- ral parts ; he was endued with uncommon ingenuity, a very retentive memory, and q^most penetrating judgn;ent. To these three gifts, which are seldom to be met with in one person, we may add, that of an uncommon tiurst for knowledge : So that he very early began to seek and taste the sweetness of all useful learning. He had great advan- tages, both from his parents and others, for spiritual and moral improvements ; and he was very happily diligent in prosecuting and embracing them. All his leisure hours were employed in the study of history, geography, and poetry. His acquirements, previous to his going to the university in the year 1651, being considerable, lie v>a» promotedtothedegreeof master of arts by the university of Strasburg in the eighteenth year of his age; -after disputing De confirmntione naiuroc rationalis ad Crealorem., in which. he particularly treated Dc Theologia natttra'i, and observ- ed some things against Hobbes and his notions. Having before applied himself to the study of Greek and riebrew, (in the former of which he accustomed himself to read, next to the New Testament, the best writers ; in the lat- ter, he applied himself chielly to the study of the Scrip- tures;) he was able, in three quarters of a-year, to dis))nte privately in the Hebrew tongue. In order to have a right •undei:standin would grant his latter years to be his best ; and, in that, he was graciously heard and answered. At the comm.and of the elector, he prepared a treatise entitled, " The deliverance of the gospel church from false accusations of division and communication with all heretics." And, not long before his death, he finished, in manuscript, " A defence of the testimony of the Godhead of our Lord Jesus Christ." From wldcli writings the situa- tion of the church at that time may be clearly seen. In the particular duties of his office in Berlin he published sixty-six sermons on the important article " of regenera- tion:" And he paraphrast>d and explained the epistle to the Galatians, and the first epistle of St. John. At this period also, he wrote his famous treatise " upon true and saving faith." We come now to speak of his death, which, according to the wise direction of the liOrd of life and death, hap- pen-'d on the Iifth of February, 1705. His whole life being exemplary, there could be no room to doubt but ids death would be edifying; and that the promise of Psalm xxxii. 8, would he fulfilled in him. As soon as he was seized with ids lastillncss, he sent for Baron Hilderbrand van Canstein, end said to him in private, The Lord being about to call him hence, he begged that the celebrated ' Riveti hora noviHsimce^" i. e. ' Dr. Bivefs last hours,'' which he liad read in his younger days with much pleasure, might be brought SPENER. 125 brought him. Among the rest, the following \vas very pleasant to him : ' Thou art the teacher of souls: I have learned more true diviinty within these ten days, than I have been able to do in tlie space of fifty years before.' About a fortnight beiore iiis death, when lie entered upon his seventy-first year, he supposed the Lord would be pleased to make the day he was born into this world, th2 day of his departure into the other. When the clock struck five in the afternoon, being the hour of his birth, with a loud voice he praised Goo for all the favours conferred on him ; at tiie same time shedding abundance of tears, and making a most tender confession of all ins sins, the pardon whereof lie most earnestly implored. ' That which most affected me, says his biogra|)her, was to hear him express how unprofitable a servant he had been, and how small a part of his life he had consecrated to the service of God. Tiiis made by so much a deeper impression upon my heart, by how much the better I knew how willingly he offered up himself as a dally sacrifice to be spent in doing the will of God.' Some days before his death, he gave order I hat nothing (not so much as one thread) of black should be in his coffin ; " For, said he, I have been a sorrowful man these many years, lamenting the deplorable state of Christ's church militant here on earth ; but now, being xipon the point of retiring into the church triumphant in heaven, T will not hare the least mark of sorrow left upon me ; but my body shall be wrapped up all over in white, for a testimony tliat I die in expectation of a better and more glorious state to come." The day before he died, he caused the seventeenth chapter of St. John's gospel to be read to him, three times successively. It was one of his favourite chapters, yet he could never be prevailed on to preach upon it : He always said, he did not understand it. On the same day he spoke much of Simeon's departure ; and, though weak and low, he did not forbear to bless all tlmse that came to see him. Towards evening he fell into a slumber, which continued for the most part till ti^.e next morning. When he awoke, he saluted those that were about him ; after which, at his own request, lie was set up in a chair; but in a little while, as they were endea- vouring to put him into his bed again, the thread of his life failed, and he suddenly expired in the arms of his wife, in the seventy-first year of his age. His Works. He published several Tracts and Sermons; but his last and greatest work was that which he finished not long before his death " On the Divinity of Christ." 12G H 0 W E. JOHN HOWE, A.M. V ERY few men have been more justly esteemed, and more respectfully spoken of, by persons of all persuasions in religion, than the learned, amiable, faithful, and evan- gelic pastor, Mr. John Howe. We shall take the summary of his life, for the most part, as it has been already extracted by the laborious compiler of the memoirs of nonconformist ministers, Mr. S. Palmer, though, at the same time, we would refer those, who wish for a more enlarged account, to the ori- ginal memoir which Dr. Edmund Calamy, jun. has laid before the world. We regret, that our compass will not allow us to say more, where so much might be said, for the pious reader's delight and advantage. Mr. Howe was born on the 17th of May 1630, at Loughborough, in Leicestershire, where his father was set- tled by Archbishop Laud, but afterwards turned out by him for not giving into that nice and punctilious conformity, upon which tliat warm and ill-judging prelate laid aa unaccountable stress, and driven into Ireland ; whither he took his son, then very young, and where their lives were remarkably preserved during the execrable rebellion and massacre. In the time of the war the father returned and settled in Lancashire, whei'e his son had his grammar learning. He was sent early to Christ Church College in Cambridge, wherehis great attainments in learning, joined ■with his exemplary piety, so recommended him, that he was elected fellow of Magdalen College in Oxford, after he had been made demy by the parliament-visitors. At this time Dr. Thomas Goodwin was president of that col- lege, and had gathered a cluncii among the scholars ; of which INIr. Howe had for some time hesitated to become a member, owing to some peculiarities among them, for which (saysDr Calamy) he had no fondness; but at length, being admitted upon catholic terms, he complied with Dr. Goodwin's request, and joined himself to this religious society. So early was he averse to all bigotry ! He was ordained at Winwick in Lancashire, by Mr. C. Herle, the pastor of that church, aiid the ministers v/ho officiated in the "^^AaJmctiXl!''!' from ffir oru;mnl I'icnirc ii, ,/i, l,hmr,.lir,1 Cn;)s Snrrt . II 0 W £. 127 the several chapels in this parish ; on which account he would sometimes say, that he thought few in modern times had so truly primitive an ordination, as he consi- dered ]\Ir. Herle as a primitive Bishop, liy an unexpected providence he was called to Torrinjrton in Devon; where, though young, he abundantly fulfilled his ministry, which was blessed with great success. He had a numerous au* ditory and a nourishing church, to which many of the inhabitants joined themselves who belonged to an inde- pendent ciiurch at Biddeford, having had a dismission from thence. The manner in which he was used to carry on the service here, on fast days (which then were very- frequent) was very extraordinary. He began at nine with a prayer of a quarter of an hour — read and ex- pounded Scripture for about three quarters — prayed an hour— preached another — then prayed half an hour. The people then sung about a quarter of an hour, during which he retired and took a little refreshment. He then came into the pulpit again, prayed an hour more — preached another hour — and then with a j)rayer of half an hour concluded the service. And ' a sort of service (says Dr. Calamy very truly) that few could have gone through without inexpressible weariness both to themselves and tiicir auditories !' — He was upon good terms with the neighbouring ministers, particularly Mr. G. Hughes of Plymouth, whose daughter he married. With him he car- ried on a weekly corresj)ondence in Latin letters. The followittg circumstance in one of them is remarkable : Mr. Howe's house being on fire, was extinguished by a seasonable shower. On that very day he received a letter from his father Hughes, which concluded with this prayer: ' iSit Ros c^li super hahilaculum vestrum ; i. e. l^etthe dew of heaven l)e u|)on your dwelling.' Mr. Howe became chaplain to Cromwell, by the protector's own over- bearing impor- tunity, which never endured a refusal. He entered upon this office with great reluctance, and never abu.sed the in- iluence it gave him to injure others or to enrich himself; but used it to serve the interest of religion and learning among persons of very different sentiments. His conduct in respect to Dr. Seth Ward, altervvards successively Bi- shop of Exeter and Sarum, deserves particular notice. The Doctor applied, by means of Mr. Howe, for the principulship of Jesus College in l(i57; but it had been pro- mised to another. However, Mr. Iio\ve so strongly re- commended him to the Protector, that he gave him asi amuial allowance equivalent to it ; and the Doctor retained a ;'ratel'ul 128 HOWE. a grateful sense of the favour, when, upon the change of times, he became a greater man. Mr. Howe always ap- peared so disinterested, that the protector once said to him, ' You have obtained many favours for others, I wonder when the time is to come that you will move for something for yourself and family.' This principle made him faithful in the discharge of his duty. The following is a remarkable instance of it : 'J^he notion of a particular faith in prayer, with respect to the obtaining of particular blessings, had prevailed much at Cromwell's court ; and Mr. Howe once heard a sermon there from a person of note designed to defend it. Being fully convinced of the ill tendency of such an opinion, he thought himself bound in conscience, when it came to his turn to preach, to op- pose it ; which accordingly he did with great plainness. Cromwell heard with great attention, but sometimes frown- ed and discovered great uneasiness, insomuch that a person who was present told Mr. Howe, it would be difficult ever to make his peace with him again. Mr. Howe replied, *' I have discharged my conscience, and leave the event with God." Nothing, however, passed between them on the subject, though Cromwell seemed cooler towards him than before. After Richard Cromwell was set aside, Mr. Howe returned to his people at Torrington. At the resto- ration he met with some trouble, being informed against as delivering something ti'easonable in the pulpit, but was very honourably acquitted. When the act of uniformity took place, he quitted his public station in the church, and became a silenced nonconformist, after having preached two affecting sermons to his people on Bartholomew-Day, in which he gave them some reasons why he could not comply with the act. Doctor (afterwards Bishop) Wilkins^ (with whom he had maintained a long intimacy) on seeing him soon after this, expressed his surprize that a man of Mr. Howe's latitude should have stood out. He told him, that he would gladly have been under the establishment, if he could have compassed it with satisfaction to his con- science ; but that, having weighed the matter with all possible impartiality, he could not do it; and that his latitude was the very tiling that made him a nonconformist. But his principal reason was, the little vital religion that ap})eared in the establishment, which, he thought, would eventually sap its foundations. Some rulers in the church at that time (to use a simile of the excellent Bisiiop Wilkins uj)on the occasion) ' were for setting the top on the picked end downwards, and so could not keep it up ; but II 0 W E. 129 but by Avhipping and scourging; whereas, if they had set it on its broad end downwards, it would have stood firm of itself. The " lawfulness of eating black-puddings (as Mr. Howe observed to the same effect on another occasion) would be a juster ground of controversy than any point of the disputed conformity." The doctor appeared satisfied, and advised him as a friend to stand to his principles. Mr. Howe continued some time in Devonshire, preaching in private houses as he had opportunity. Being acquainted that an oliicer of the bishop's court had inquired after liim, he rode to Exeter, where he met with a friend, a dignified clergyman, who acquainted the bishop that Mr. Howe was there; upon which his Lordship expressed a de- sire to see him, and received him with great civility as his old acquaintance, but expostulated with him about his non- conformity, and desired to know the reasons. Mr. Howe, waving many others, only mentioned re-ordination. * Why, pray, Sir, said the bishop, what hurt is there iu being re-ordained .?' " Hurt ! my Lord, said Mr. Howe, it is shocking ; it hurts my understanding ; it is an absur- dity ; for nothing can liave two beginnings." The bishop dropping the matter, told him, as he had done at other times, that if lie would come in among them he might have considerable preferments ; and dismissed him in a friendly manner, without any thing being said on either side about the process that was issued out against him ; and accordingly there the matter ended. In 1665, he took the oath required by the Oxford act upon the same principle as Dr. Bates and others did in London: But, notwithstanding, he was this year imprisoned two months in tlie isle of St. Nicholas, though upon what occasion it doth not appear. In 1671, being reduced to straits, he accepted an invi- tation from a person of quality in Ireland. Being de- tained by contrary winds on the Weich coast, (probably at Holyhead) he continued there a Lord's Day. The com- pany, being desirous he should preach to them, were seeking a convenient place, when they met the parish minister and his clerk riding to the town. One of them asked the clerk, whether his master j>reaclied that day ? who answered, ' No ; my master does not use to preach, he oidy roads prayers.' On being asked further, whether he would give leave lor a minister who was there to use his pulpit, he replied, ' \ ery willingly ;' which accordingly he did. Mr. Howe preached. In the after- noon the audience was very large, and seemed much af- VOI. IV. K fected 130 HOW E. fected. The wind continued contrary all the week. The next Lord's Day, there was a prodigious multitude gathered together ; and the clergyman, having no expectation of further assistance, was' in great consternation, being not able to preach himself, and thinkinj^ if there were no preaching it would greatly lessen his reputation. He there- fore sent his clerk to Mr. Howe, and begged he would come and preach again, as otherwise he knew not what to do, the country being come in for several miles to hear him. Mr. Howe being much indisposed was in a sweat in bed. But, considering it as a plain call of Providence, he cooled himself as speedily as he could with safety, and, cast- ing himself on God, went and preached with great free- dom. He said he never saw people more moved, and that, if ever his ministry was of use, it was then. Very soon after, the vessel sailed, and he felt no ill effects. In Ireland he lived as chaplain to the Lord Massarene at Antrim, %a here he was universally respected, and enjoyed the particular friendship of the bishop of that diocese, who, together with his metropolitan, gove him liherty to preach, without de- manding any conformity, in the public church, every Lord's Dny afternoon. And the Archbishop, at a meeting of the cler:^y, told them, that he would have Mr. Howe have every pulpit, where he had any concern, open to him. By his preaching and conversation here he was useful to many. Upon the death of Dr. Seaman, 1675, he was invited by a part of his congregation to fix in London. After ma- ture deli'oeration, and weighing the arguments on both sides (which he drew out in writing) he consented to go, and made a peaceable use of King Charles's indulgence. He preached to a considerable and judicious audience, and was much respected not only by his brethren among the dissent- er.s, but bv several eminent divines of the church of Enjj- land, c. g. Doctors Whitchcote, Kidder, Fowler, Lucas, &c. with whom lie often freely and familiarly conversed. In regard to the steps taken in order to a coalition be- tween the chiu'ch and the dissenters, some of the dignified clergy sent for him to their houses, (Bishop Lloyd, Sherlock, &c.) and expressed great deference to his opinion. He had a particular h)timacy with Dr. Tillotson, (afterwards Arch- bis'iop) in respect to whom the following anecdote is wor- thy of notice. The dean, as he tlien was, (1680) preached a sermon at court, on Josh, xxiv 15. in which he asserted, that ' no man is obliged to preach against the religion of a country, though a false one, unless he has the power of working miracles.' King Charles slept most of the time. When H 0 W E. 131 When the sermon was over, a certain nobleman said to him, ' It^s pity your majesty slept, for we have had the rarest piece of Hohbism that ever you heard in your life.' ' Odds fish, said the kinji, he shall print it then ;'' and immediately called the Lord Chamberlain to give his connnand to the dean to do it. When it came from the press, the dean, as was usual with him, sent it as a present to Mr. Howe, who, on the perusal, was grieved to find a sentiment which had so ill a tenilency, and drew up a long letter, in which lie freely expostulated with the dean for giving such a wound to the Retbrmation, and carried it himself. The dean, upon the sight of it, moved tor a little journey into the country, that they might talk the matter over without interruption. Mr. Howe enlarged on the contents of the letter as they travelled in the chariot. The dean at length wept, and said, this was the most unliappy thing that had befallen him for a long time ; owned, that what he had asserted was not to h^ maintained, and urged in his excuse, that he had but little notice of preaching that day, and none of printing the sermon. When, in IGSi, Barlow, Bishop of Lincoln, printed a let- ter for putting into execution the laws against dissenters, Mr. Howe wrote a free answer to it, of which a copy may be seen in his Mem. p. 104 — 112. The next year, the pro- spect of the dissenters being very dark, he accepted an in- vitation of Lord Wharton to travel with him abroad. In the course of his travels, he had the satisfaction to converse with a number of learned papists, and protestant divines. In 16S0, having no encouragement to I'eturn, he settled at Utrecht, where the Earl of Sunderland and his Countess, some English gentlemen, and two of his own nephews, boarded with him. During this time, he took his turn with Mr. Mat. Mead, &c. who were there also, in preaching at the English church, and in the evening preached to his own family. He was of great use to several English students then at the university, and much respected by its professors, as well as by several persons of distinction from England, among whom was Dr. G. Burnet, afterwards Bishop of Sarum, with whom he had much free conversation. The Prince of Orange, afterwards William III. admitted him several times into his presence, and discoursed with him with great freedom, as he sometimes did, after he ascended the British throne. Upon King James's declaration for liberty of conscience in 1G87, ^Ir Howe's flock in London earnestly pressed his return, and lie readily complied. He waited upon the Prince of 132 HOWE. of Orange first, who advised him to be cautious of address- ing, and not to fall in with the measures of the court. He was thankful for a little breathing-time, and endeavoured to improve It to the best purposes, and to preserve himself and others from the snares laid for them, always declaring against approving the dispensing power. When those fears were blown over by the revolution, Mr. Howe, at the head of the dissenting ministers, made an handsome address to the Prince of Orange at St. James's, which lias been printed. On the passing the toleration act, he addressed a small tract both to conformists and dissenters, with a view to ])romote mutual i'orbearance. With the same truly Christian design, he afterwai'ds [1693] published his ser- mon on the " Carnality of religious contentions," whea unhappy differences had taken place among the dissenting ministers, occasioned chiefly by the reprinting the posthr- mous works of Dr. Crisp, wlio, though a good man, was charged with some .Antinomian notions. These debates, however, issued in the exclusion of Mr. (afterwards Dr.) Wi] liams from the lecture at Pinner's Hall, when Mr. Howe, Dr. Bates, and Mr. Alsop joined him in carrying on a sepa- rate lecture at Salter's Hall. Warm debates soon' followed, concerning the Trinity and occasional conformity, in which Mr. Howe engaged with great moderation. Christian meek- ness, and charity ; greatly lamenting the want of these in others, and desiring to breathe a nobler air and inhabit better regions. * The last thing he published was, a " Dis- course * I know not how to omit enterfaiiiin? my readers with a short ex- tract from Mr. Howe's sennoii o'l Dr. Bates's death, which breathes a sweet spirit 'f pi.ty and kindness upon this ever-to-be lamented subject of parties and breaches among real Christians. His words are: " Think me not So vain, as to reckon, exchisivcly, the cause of dissenters, the cause I ii'(w spiak of: No, no; I spetk of the common cause, of all se- rious, sober-tniiided Christians, within the common rule, or without it. T n^'iiher thmk any one party to include all sobriety of mind, or to ex- clude all insobriety. But I apprehend converting work to be mu?h at a sta\id, within the pales that men have set up, severing one party from another, and without them. Few are any where brought home to God tin-Dugh Christ. Ami (jod knons, too few design it, otherwise than to make proselytes to their several parlies : And this is thought a glorious con-.ersion. Serifnis ])iety,* and Christianity, languishes every where. M;!ny tkat have a name to live are dead, and putrified, already stink J Couimoti justice and righteousness are fled from among us. Sincerely p-ood and pious men die away, in the natural sense, apace. You know, if deaths and hurials should, in the weekly bills, exceed births, and • illier acces.-ions to the city, whither this tends ! When so many great ligiits are withdrawn, both such as are within the national church con- stitution, and such as are without it, is there no danger Gcu should als» HOWE, 133 course of Patience In expecting future Blessedness." This was what he had pai'ticular occasion for. Having en; ployed his time, strength, and interest in the most valuable ser- vices, he was wasted with several diseases, which he bore with great patience and a resigned submission to the will of his heavenly Father. He discovered no fear of dying, but also remove the candlestick ? Our obduration, and iniensible stupiditj', portends a deadly darkness to be drawing on. And must such lives go, to make a way for God's anger ! And lead ou a more s^ne^al, and more dreadful, approaching death! Oh! that God would rend the heavens and come down ! He may yet melt our hearts, and make them flow at his presence, notwithstanding their mountainous,' rocky heiirht, and hardness. This maybe the means of saving some souls, and of de- ferring the common calamity. A great thing it would be to have it de- ferred. What a privilege would many servants of Christ count if, not to live to the day, when the Spirit of the living (jod shall l-.e generally retired and gone; and atheism, scepticism, infidelity, worUllincss, and formality, have quite swallowetl up our religion. While sui;h men as we have lost, lived, they did, and such do, as instruments, keep some- what of serious religion alive, under our several forms, but as ready to expire. But though it should seem gent-rally to have expired, let ns be- lieve it shall revive. Wlien onr contidences and vain boasts cease r The temple of the Lord ! The temple of the Lord ! Lo ! here is Christ, and there is Christ! and one sort ceases to magnify this church, and another that, and an universal death is come upon us ; then (and I am afraid not till then) is to be expected a glorious resurrection, not of this or that party : For living, powerful relisioo, when it recovers, will disdain " the limits of a party. [Or, as he expresses himself in his funeral s'-rmon for Mr. Mede: " Till that season comes, it matters linJe, and signifies to me scarce one straw, what partN' of us is uppermost."] Nor is it to be thought, that religion, modified by the devised distinctions of this or that party, will ever be the religion of the world. i>ut the same power that makes ns return into a state of life, will bring us into a state of unity, in divine light and love. Then will all the scandalous niark= and means of division among Chri-tians, vani-h; and nothing remain as a test, or boundary of Christian communion, but what hath its foutida- tion, as such, in plain reason, or expre s revelaiiou. Then, us there is ime body, and one spirit, will that Almis;hty Spirit so anirnate, and f(;rni this body, as to make it every where amiable, self-recommending, and capable of spreading and propagating itself and to increase wlh tlie incieaie of GOD. Then shall Ike Lord be One, and his name One, in all the earth. From such sentiments as these, * we may (to use the words of Dr. Calamy, in the memoirs of his life) take onr measures of him both as a Minister and a Divine; and can hardly forbear making thi? reflec- tion, that It would be an nnsj)eikable hnppiness, did but such a spirit as this prevail more among all the parties in'o which we are divided,' \>. 58. For several more noble sentiments of 'his kind, we will subjoin Mr. " Howe's Address both to Conformists and Nonconformists" " 1. That we do not over- magnify our ditlerences, or count thetti greater than they really are. I speak now (says Mr. Ilowc; of the, proper difierences which the rule itself makes, to which the on*- *ort conforms, and the other conforms not. Remember that Jheie are ditlerences 134 H O W E. but when his end drew near, was very cahn and serene. Having a mortification in his leg, his son, a physician, with a kind design, took the liberty to lance it \Aithoiit his leave; upon which IMr. Howe cried out, " What are you doing ? I am not airaid of dying, but I am afraid of pain." He seemed indeed sometimes to be got to heaven even be-:. fore differences on both parts, among theinselves incomparably greater than these, by which the one surt dift'ers from the other. There are differences in doctrinal sentiments that are much greater. How inconceivably greater is the difference between good men and bad ! between being a lover of the blessed God, the Lord of heaven and earth, and an entmy ! a real subject of Christ and of the devil ! Have we not reason to appre- hend there are of both these on each side ? Let us take bt-ed of hav- ing our minds tinctured with a wrong notion of this matter, as if ibis indulirence divided England into two Christendoms, or dislinauished ra- • ther between Christians and Mahometans, as some mens Cyclupe fancies have an imlucky art to represent things; creating ordinary men and things into monsters and prodi'j.ious shapes, at their own pleasure. It has been an usual saying on both sides, that they were (in comparison) but little things we differed about, or circumstantial things. Let ns not unsay it, or suffer an habit of mind to slide*- into us, ihat consists not with it Though we must not go against a judgment of conscience in the least thing, yet let us not confound the true differences of things ; but what are j-eally lesser things, let them go for such. " 2, Let us hereupon carefully abstain from judging each other's state (iodward upon these differences; for hereby we shall both con- tradict our common rule, and ourselves. When men make conscience of small and doubtful things on the one hand and the other, about ■which they differ; blessed Gop, how little conscience is made of the plainest and most important role, not to judge oiie anrither for such differences! Rom. xiv. 3. 13. Why of all the parts of that holy book is this chapter only thought no part of God's word ! or this precept so variously enforced in this chapter, and so awfully, ver. 10,11. Bi't xcky dost ikou judge thy brother ? or ivfiy dost thou set at nought thy brother ? JVe shall all itand before the judgment-seat of Christ. For it is zvrillen, Js I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall buvj to me, and every tungua shall con- fess to me! Is it a light matter to usurp tlie throne of Christ, the judgment-seat of God? Yet how common has it been to say, such an one conforms, he hath nothing of God in him ? such an one Conforms not; it is not conscience but humour? God forgive both. Have they blotted Rom. xiv. out of their Bibles? U is plain by the whole series of discourse, that it is the judging of men's states, and that by such small matters of difTerence, that is the thing here forbidden. Some few things contained in this chapter, as to receive one another, (as Christians, or such whom God receives) nolwjih- standing remaining doubts about small matters, and not determin- ing such doubted things in bar to the doubter, ver. 1, 2, 3; and not to laif stumbling blocks in each other's way, ver. 1 3 ; not to do the doubted thing with a mind still unsatisfied, ver. 5, 23 ; not to censure, either him that does or forbears; not admitting an hard thought of Jiim, or less favourable, than that what such an one does, he docs to the Lord, and what the other forbears, he forlears to the Lord, ver. 6: These faw things, I say, put in practice, had taken away all difference:* (thaf. HOWE. 135 fore he had laid aside mortality. He was once, durinj;; his decline, in a most afiecting, heavenly frame at the com- munion, and carried out into such a transporting celebra- tion of the love of Christ, that both he and the communi- cants were apprehensive he would have died in the service. He was sometimes very pleasant in his last sickness, and conversed (tli.it we are now considering) or the inconvenience of them long ago And we shall still need them as much as ever. " 3 Let us not value ourselves upon being of this or that side of the severing line. It is Jewish, yea pharisaioal, to be conceited, aiiH b-iast ourselves upon externals, and small matters, especially if arbitrarily taken up: and is itself an argument of a light mind, and incumjire- hensive of true worth. Though 1 cannot. be siix'erely of this or that way, but I must think myself in the right, and others in the wrong, that differ from me, yet I ought to consider this is but a small minute thing, a point compared with the vast orb of knowahles, and of thin:;s needful, and tliat ought to be known. Perliaps divers that diiTer from me are men of greater and more comprehensive minds, and have been more employed about greater matters; and many, in things of more importance, have much more of valuable and useful knowledge than I. Yea, and since these an- not m^'tters of salvation we dilTer about, so that any on either side dare considerately say, he cannot be saved, that is not in these respects (jf my mind and way ; he m.iy have more of sanctifying savoury knowledge, more of solid goodness, more of grace and real sanctity than I ; the course of Ills thoughts and studies having been by converse and other accidents led more off from iliese things, and perhaps by a good principle been more deepl\- engaged about higlier matters: For no man's mind is able equally to consider all things fit to be considered ; and greater things are of themselves more apt to beget holy and good iiTipressii>ns upon our spirits, than the mmuter and more circumstantial things, though relating to religion, can be. " 4. Let us not despise "ne another for our differing in these lessex* matters. This is too common, and most natural to that tc^mper liiat offends against the foregoing caution. Little spirited creatures, valuing themselves for small matters, must consequently have those in cooiempt that want what they count their own only excellency. He that haih nothing wherein he places worth belonging to liim, besides a tiauuting peruke and a laced suit, must at all adventures think very aieanly of one in a plain garb. Where we are taught not (n judge, we are for- bidden to despise or set at nought one another upon these litil'- dif- ferences. " 5. Nor let us wonder that we differ. Unto this we are too apt, i. e. to think it strange, (especially upon some arguing of the dif- ference) that such a man should conform, or such an one not c-nif nn. There is some fault in this, but which pioc^eeds from more fa'dry causes: Pride too often, and an opinion that' wc understmid so well, that a wrong is done us, if our jud'^xinen' be not ma le a standard 'tnd measure to another man's. And again, ignoran' e of human ni re, or inconsiderateness rather, how mysterious it is and how litue cao be known of it; how secret and latent little springs tliere .ire that move this engine to our own mind this way or that; ;;nd what bars (wliicb perhaps he discerns not himself) may obstruct and shut up towards ns anothec 136 HO W E. conversed freely with the many persons of all ranks who came to see hinni, and talked like one of another world, with the most elevated hopes of tliat blessedness there, on which his heart had long been set; and once declared, after an unexpected revival, that were it put to his choice, whe- ther he should die that moment or live seven years, he would anotlipr man's. Have we not frequent instances in other common cases, how difficuU it is to speak to another man's understanding ! Speech is too penurious, not expressive cnoujj;h. Frequently between men of sense, much more time is taken up in explaining each other's notions, than in proving or di.sproving them. Nature and our present state have in some retipects left us open to (ion only, and made ns inaccessible to one another. Why then should it be strange to me, thai I caimot con- ■vey my thought int* another's mind ? It is unchristian to censure, as befure, and say, such an one has not my conscience, therefore he has no conscience at all : And it is also unreasonable and rude to say, such a one sees not with my eyes, therefore he is stark blind. Besides, the real obscurity of the matter is not enough considered. J am very confident, an impartial and competent judge, upon the view of books, later and more ancient, upon such subjects, would say, there are few meta- physical questions disputed with njore subtlety, than the controversies about conformity and non-conformity. Blessed be God, that things necessary lo the salvation of souls, and that are of true necessity even to the peace and order of the Christian church, are in comparison so very plain. " Moreover, there is besides understanding and judgment, and diverse, from that heavenly gift, which in the Scrijrtures is called grace, such a thing as gust and relish belonging to the mind of man, and I doubt not to all men, if they observe themselves ; and this is as uttaceountable and as various as the relishes and disgusts of sense. Tliis they only wonder at, that either understand not themselves, or will consider no- body but themselves. To bring it down to the present case : As to those parts of worship which are of most frequent use in our assemblies, (whether conforming or non-conforming) prayer, and preaching, and' iearina: God's word, our differences about them cannot but in part arise from the diversity of this principle, both on the one hand and the ■Other. One sort do more savour prayer by a foreknown foim; another that which hath more of surprize, by a grateful variety of unexpected expressions. And it can neither he universally said, it is a better judg- ttient, or more grace, that determines men the one way or the other; but somewhat in the temper of their minds distinct from both, which I know not better how to express than by mental taste, the acts whereof (as the objects are suitable or imsuitable) are relishing or disrelishing, liking or disliking : And this hath no more of mystery in it, tiian that there is such a thing belonging to oui' nature-;, as complacency or dis- placency in reference to the objects of the mind. And this, in th-3 kind of it, is as common to men as human nature, but as much diver- tiified in individuals, as men's other inclinations are, that are most lixed and least apt to admit of change. Now in the menii'oied case, men cannot he universally determimd either way by their having better judgment; for no sober man can be so little modest, as not to acknow- ledge, tiiat there are some of each sentiment that aie less judicious, than some that are of the contrary senlimeutin this thing. And to say, that HOWE. 137 would prefer the former. His hope of heaven was,, how- ever, accompanied with great humility, which led him to say, " I expect my salvation not as a profitable servant, but as a pardoned sinner."" Being at last worn out, he finished his course with joy, April 2, 1705, and his body was buiied in the parish church of St. Allliallows, Bread Street. that to be more determined this way or that, is the certain sign or ef- fect of a i,'reatcr measure of grace and sanctity, were a great violation l)oth of modesty and charity. I have not met with any that have ap- peared to live in more entire communion with God, in higher admir- ation of him, in a pleasanter sense of his love, or in a more joyful ex- pectation of eternal life, than some that have been wont with great de- light publicly to worship God in the nse of oiir Common Prayer ; Atid others I have known, as highly excelling in the same respects, that could bj' no means relish it, but have always counted it insipid and nauseous. The like may be said of relishing or disrelishing sermons preached in a digested set of words, or with a more fiowing freedtim of speech. It were endless and odious to vie either better judgments, or more pious inclinations, that should universally delermme men eitlier the one way or the other in these matters. And we are no more to wonder at these peculiarities in the temper of men's minds, than at their diderent tastes of meats and drinks, much less to fall out with them, that their minds and notions are not justly formed, as ours are : For we should remember, they no more differ from us tiian we do from them; and if we think we have the clearer light, it is likely they also think they have clearer. And it is in vain to sav', who sha'l be judge? for every man will at length judge of his own notions for himself, and cannot help it; for no man's judgment (or relish of things, which influences his judgment, though he know it not) is at the command of his will, and much less of another man's. And, therefore, " 6. Let us not be offended mutually with one another, for our differ- ent choice of this or that way, wherein we find most of real advantage and editication. Our greatest concern in this world, and which is com- mon to us all, is the bettering of our spirits, and preparing them far a better world. Let no man be displeased, (especially of those who agree in all the substantial of the same holy religion) that another useij the same liberty in choosing the way most conducing in his experience to Ins great end, that he himself also uses, e.\pecting to do it ivitliout another man's offence. " 7. But, above all, let us with sincere minds more earnestly en- deavour the promoting the interest of religion itself, of true reformed Christianity, than of this or that party. Let us long to see the religion of Chri>tians become simple, pritniiive, agreeable to it's lovely original state, and again itself; and each in our own stations contribute thereto all that we are able, labouring that the internal principle of it may live and tlourish in our own souls, and be to our utmost ditlused and spreact unto other men's: And for its externals, as the ducture of our rule will guide us, so gradually bend towards one common cause, that there may at length cease to be any divided parties at all. " In the mean time, while there are, let it be remembered, that thf «litVereuce lies among Christians and protestants, not between such and pagans. Let us therefore carry it according!}' towards each other, and consider our assemblies are all Christian and protestnnt assemblies, dif- ferins 138 HOWE. Street. His funeral sermon was preached by liis fellow- labourer, Mr. John Spademan, on 2 Tim. iii. H. on the 8th of the same month. A more particular account of him might have been pre- sented to the world, liad he not, a little before his denth, ordered his son to burn a large parcel of MSS. which re- lated feriiig in tbeir administrations, for the most part, not in the things pray- ed for, or deprecated, or taught, but in certain modes of expression ; And differing r ally, and in the substance of things, less by mere I'on- foruiity or non-runforinity to the public rule of the law, than many of the 11 that are under it do from one another, and than divers ihat are not imder it. For instance, po into one congregation that is a con- foiu): ig one, and you have the public prayers read in ttie de^k. and afte^n\ards a form of pra\er perhaps used by the preacher in the pulpit, of his own composure, before he begins his sermon. Go into another congreg iMou, and prayer is performed williout either sort of form; and per^iaps tjje diflerence in this is not so great. It may be the conformist uses no pre-conceived form of his own, and the non-conformist may. Both instruct the people out of the same holy book uf Goo's Word. But now suppose one of the former sort reads the public prayers gravely, tvitli the appearance of great reverence, fervency, and I'lous devotion; and one of tlie latter sort that uses them not, does, however, pray for the same things with judgment, and with like gravity and affection, and they Doth instriiot their hearers fitly and prolitably ; nothing is more evident tlian that the worship in these two assemblies doth much less considerably differ to a piou- and judicious mind, titan if in the latter the pravers were also read, but carelessly, sleepily, or scenically, flaunt- inglv, and with manifest irreverence, and the sermon like the rest; or, than if in Ihe former all the performance were inept, rude, or very offensively drowsy or sluggish. <« Now let us shew ourselves men, and manly Christians, not swayed by trifles and little things, as children by this or that dress or mode, or form of our religicm, which may perliaps p!ease some the ntore for its real indecency: But know, that if we continue bickering about forms, the life be lost, and we come to bear the character of that church, than hust a name thai thou livest, anil art dead, wc may ere long (afler all the wonders Gou hath wrought for us) expect to hear of our candlestick's being removed, and that our sun shall go down at noon- day. " The true serious spirit and power of religion and godliness will act no man against his conscience, or his rule understood, but will oblige him in all acts of worship (as well as of his whole conversation) to ki ep close to gospel-prescription, so far as he can discern it. And that, lie will find, requires, that in subordination to the divine glory, he se- riously design the working out of the salvation of his own soul, and take tbai Course in order tiu^reto, put hiinself under such a mini-try, and sinh a way (jf tising Gon's ordinances, as he finds tnost profitable and I'onilui'.ing to that great end, and Ihat doth his soul most real good. If you are religious, or of this or that mode or way of religion, to serve a c.irnal design for vourself or your party, not to save your soul, you tfomm't liie most detestal)le sacrilege, and alienate the most sacred tiling in the world, Iteligwn, from its true end; which will not only lose that end, but infer an heavy vengoas'ce. Yea, and it is too possible to . transgress H O W E. 139 lated to his life and times. On a blank page in his Bible were found two remarkable passages, written with his own hand in Latin, of whiclx the following is a translation : " Dec 20, 89. After that I had long, seriously, and re- j)eatedly tliought with myself, that besides a full and un- doubted assent to the objects of faith, a vivifying savoury taste and relish of them was also necessary, that with stronger transgress dangerously, by preferring that which is less, though never so confidently thought to be divine, before that whicii is greater, or se- parately from its true end. Yoii greatly prevaricate, if you are more zealoiily intent to prumate independency than Christianity, presbytery than Cl)ristianily, prelacy than Christianity, as any of these are the in- terest of a party, and not considered in subserviency to the Christian in- terest, nor designed fur promoting the edification and salvation of your own soul. But that being your design, living religion will keep your eye upon your end, and make you steady, and constantly true to that and to your rule, without which you can never hope to reacli your end. " No»v hereupon such as conform to tlie public establishment, and they that dissent from it, may dilVer from each other upon a twofold ac- count: Either, 1. as judging the contrary way to be simply unlawful: Or, 'I, as judging it to be no less edifying. 'Tis not t"lie busmess of this paper to discuss who herein* judge aright, and who wrong: But, supposing their judgment to remain as it is, (which they themselves how- ever should txamine, and, if it be wrong, rectify,) I shall say somewhat to each of these cases. " To the former, while your judgment continues as it is, it is true you cannot join in worship with the contrary minded : But nothing for- bids but you can be kind, conversible, courteous towards them ; and your common Christian profession (besides the rules of humanity) obliges you so to be: Yea, and even to converse with them as occasion invites, more intimately as Christians, the visible marks of serious Christianity appearing in them. " To the latter sort, it is acknowledged, you cannot constantly join in worship with those of the contrary way, because you ought ordinarily to worship t!oD in that waj' which you judge to be best and most agree- able to the divine rule, (though you are not obliged utterly to abandon any for its imperfections and corruptions, that is not corrupt in the very essentials,) and you ought most frequently to attend to that which you find to be most edifying to your own soul, as that should be your more ordinary diet that best agrees with you That way, therefore, you must most constantly adhere to, which is most grateful and sa- voury to you, because you cannot so much edify by what you less re- lish. But your judgment and latitude will well allow you sometimes to frequent the assemblies with which you hold not constant commu- nion. And if it will allow, it will also direct you thereto for a valuable end ; as that you may signify, you ordinarily declme them not as no Christians, or their worship as no worship, b>it as more defposition to nearer union. And if our rulers shall judge such intercourses conducing to so desirable an end, they may perhaps in due time think it reasonable to put things into that state, that ministers of both ^orts may be capable of inviting one another occasionally to the brotherly oflices of mutual assistance in each other's congregations. For which, and all things that tend to make us an happy people, we must wuit upon Him in whose hands Ibeir hearts are." 140 HOW E. stronger force and mo^re powerful energy, they might pe- netrate inlo the most inward centre of my heart, and there being most deeply fixed and rooted, govern rny lite ; and that there could be no other sure ground whereon to con- clude and pass a sound Judgment on my good estate God- ward ; and after I had in my course of preaching been largely insisting on 2 Cor i. 12. This very morning I awoke out of a most ravishing and delightful dream, that a wonderful and copious stream of celestial ravs, from the lofty throne of the divine Majesty, seemed to dart into my expanded breast. 1 have oiten since, with great com- placency, retlected on that very signal pledge of special divine favour vouchsafed to me on that noted memorable day, and have with repeated fresh pleasure tasted the de- lights thereof" " But what (on Oct. 22, 1704,) of the same kind I sensibly felt, through the admirable bounty of my God, and the most pleasant comforting influence of the Holy Spirit, far surpassed the most expressive words my thoughts can suggest. I then experienced an inex- pressibly pleasant melting of Iveart, tears gushing out of mine eyes, for joy that God should shed abroad his love abundajitly through the hearts of men, and that for this very purpose mine own should be so signally possessed of and by his blessed Spirit. Rom. v. 5." His person was tall and graceful. He had a piercing but pleasant eye ; and had that in iiis aspect which indicated something uncommonly great, and tended to excite vene- ration. To those who are at all acquainted with his writings, his intellectual accomplishments need no com- mendation. -Even Mr. Anthony Wood passes a.n high en- comium u{)on him, and, which is very extraordinary, upon his style, wiuch is least to be admired of any thing in his performances. His niinisterial qualifications were singular. He could preach off-hand with as great exactness as many others upon the closest study. His sermons, which he always delivered without notes, were often of uncommon depth, especially at the beginning, but were plain in the sequel, and towards the close generally came home with great pungency to the consciences of the hearers. He had ■ great copiousness and fluency in prayer. To hear him pray upon sudden emergencies miglit have abated the pre- ])ossession of those who venture to cavil at free prayer, lie was a person of remarkable prudence, and laid great .stress njion it in others; and was very courteous to stran- gers, never tliinking religion inconsistent with good-breed- ing. He knew liovr to address himself suitably to the greatest HOWE. 141 greatest persons, without the least mixture of meanness, and yet could condescend to the meanest. He was very affable to young ministers, and ever ready to oiVcr them the kindest advice. He had a truly great soul, and seemed to be born to support generous principles, a truly catholic spirit, and an extensive charity : And in t'is respect he has been compared to the excellent Martin Bucer. In many cases he discovered a remarkable sagacity, particu- larly in regard to public affairs and political manauvres- In conversation he was often very facetious. Some of his su/lden repartees deserve to be recorded. Being ;^1 din- ner with some persons of fashion, a gentleman expatiated largely in praise of Charles I. and made some dis:i<;ree- able reflections upon oth^s. Mr. Howe, ohservin;^ that lie mixed manv horrid oaths witli his discourse, told liim, that in his humble opinion he h-jd omitted one great ex- cellence in the cliaracter of that prince; which, when the gentleman luul pressed him to mention, and waited with impatience ti) hear it, he told him it was this: " That he ■was never heard to swear an oath in common conversa- tion.'.' The gentleman took the reproof, and promised to break off the practice. Another time he passed two per- sons of quality, who were talking with great eagerness, and damned eacli other repeatedly. Upon which, taking off his hat, he said to them, '• I pray Gou save you both;" for which they both gave him their thanks. At the time when the occasional conformity bill was debated in par- liament, he passed a noble Lord in a chair in St. James's Park, who sent his footm.an to call him, desiring to speak with him upon tliis subject. In the conversation, speakmg of the opponents of the dissenters, he said, 'Damn these wretches, for they are mad,' &cc. Mr. Howe, who w'as no stranger to the nobleman, expressed great satisfaction in the tiiought that there is a God who governs the v/orld, who will finally make retiibution to ail according to their present character. '* And he, my Lord, (says he) has de- clared, he will make a difference belueen him thct siveardh and him thai Jtnrelh an oalk.'''' The nobleman was struck with t!ie hint, and said, ' I thank you, Sir, for your free- dom: I take your meaning, and shall enrleavour to make a good use of it.' Mr. Howe replied, " My Lord, I have more reason to thank your Lords!;!]) lor saving me the most difficult part of a discourse, which is the ajjpiicui'ioti.'''' His Works are: I. " A Sermon on Man's Creation in an holy, but mutable State, from Ecdcs. vii. 29." It is to be »iet within ' the Morning Exercise methodized,' printed iu U2 HOWE. in 1660. II. " A Treatise on the Blessedness of ther Righteous, from Psal. xvii. 15." being sermons preached while he was at Torrington. Printed 166S. III. " The Vanity of this Mortal Life, or of Man, considered only in this present Mortal State, from Psal. Ixxxix. 47, 48."" [which discourse is usually bound up with his " Blessed- ness of the Righteous."] There is an epistle before this sermon, dated from Antrim in 1671. IV. " A Treatise of delighting in God. 1674. V. " The living Temple of Gon, octavo, 1675." This, with its second part, pub- lished in 1702, is esteemed his master-piece. VI. A tract, entitled, " The Reconcileableness of God's Prescience of the Sins of Men, with the Wisdom and Sincerity of his Counsels and Exhortations, ^nd whatever other Means he uses to prevent them, octavo. 1677." VII. A pamphlet, entitled, " A Letter out of the Country to a Person of Quality in the City, who took Offence at the late Sermon of Dr. Stillingfleet, Dean of St. PauFs, before the Lord Mayor." 1680. VIII. " Thoughtfulness for the Morrow, with an Appendix, concerning the immoderate Desire of foreknowing Things to come," octavo. To which is added, *' A Discourse of Charity, in reference to other IMen's Sins, from 1 Cor. xiii. 6. 1681." IX. " A Funeral Ser- mon on the Death of Mrs. IVIargaret Baxter, from 2 Cor. V. 8. 1681." X. "Of the Name of Goo in Prayer, from Jerem. xiv. 21. octavo. 1682." XL " A Discourse on Self-Dedication, duod. 1682." XII. « A Funeral Sermon on the Death of INIr. Richard Fairclough, from Matth. XXV. 21. 1682." This year he drew up those *' Annotations on the three Epistles of St. John," which are in the second volume, or continuation of Mr. Pool. XIII. " A Sermon upon Colos. ii. 2. upon this question, What may most hopefully be attempted to allay Animo- sities among Protestants, that our Divisions may not be our Ruin? 1683." He afterwards (17(>1) wrote " Some Consideration of a Preface to an Enquiry concerning the occasional Conformity of Dissenters;" which may serve as an appendix to this sermon. XIV. " A Treatise on Luke xix. 41, 42. entitled. The Redeemer's Tears wept over lost Souls ; with an Appendix concerning the Blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, and how God is said to will the Salvation of them that perish. 1684." XV. " A Sermon from Job v. 42. directing wliat we are to do after strict Enquiry, whether or no we truly love God. 1688." X^'I. ♦' Two Sermons on Rom. vi. 13. Yield i/ojirselves to God. 1688" XVII. " A Funeral Sermon on the Death of HOWE. - 113 •f Mrs. J. Hammond. 1689;' XVIII. " The Carnality of Christian Contention, in two Sermons preached at the Merchants' Lecture in Broad Street. 1()93 " XIX. At his first Turn at the new I^ecture at Salter's Ilall, " A Sermon from Isa. Ixiv. 7. 1G94<.'''' XX. " A calm and sober Enquiry Concerning the Possibility of a Trinity in the Godhead, in a. Letter to a Person of worth. IGOi." To wliich were added, some " Letters formerly written to Dr. AVallis on the same Subject." In the same year he published "• A Letter to a Friend concerning ' A I'ost- script to the Defence of Dr. Sherlock's Notion of the Tri- nity in Unity,' in which his " Calm and sober Enquiry" was reflected upon." After this came out ' Some ('onsi- derations on the Explications of the Doctrine of the Tri- nity, in a Letter to H. H.' And Mr. Howe l)eing con- cerned in it, he published " A View of those Considera- tions, in a Letter to the former Friend. 1695." XXI. " A Funeral Sermon on the Death of Mrs. Esther Sampson, from Lnkexiii. 16. 16S9."" XXII " A Funeral Sermon on the Death of Queen Mary. 1695." XXIII. " A Ser- mon preached on the Day of Thanksgiving, Dec. 2, 1697." And another, " To the Societies for Reformation of Manners, from Rom. xiii. 4. 1697." XXIV. " A Fune- ral Sermon on the Death of the Reverend Richard .Vdams, A. M. 1697-8." XXV. " A Funeral Sermon on the Death of the Reverend Mr, Matthew IMead. 1699." XXVI. " A Funeral Sermon on the Death of John Hoghton, F]sq. concerning the Redeemer's Dominion over the invisible World, and the Entrance thereinto by Death. 1699." XXVII " On the Death of the Reverend Dr. William Bates. 1699." XXVIII. " A Discourse on Mail's Enmity against Goo, and Reconciliation between God and Man, from Col. i. 21. 1701" XXIX. In 1702 he published " A second part of the Living Temple," containing animadversions on Spinosf , and a Fi'ench writer pretending to confute him ; with a recapitulation of the part, and an account of the destitution anil restitution of God's temple amongst men. ^XXX. " A Funeral Ser- mon on the Death of the Reverend Peter \'ink, B. D. 1702." XXXI. " A Sermon on Col. i 13. preached on the 5th of November 1703." XXXII. " The last thing he publislied, was " A Discourse on Patiencp, relating to the expectation of future Blessedness," to which there was afterwards added " An Appendix," which came otit in 1705. Since his death, his \Vorks have been collected and published in two volumes, folio. Besides 144 B E V E R I D G E. Besides the above, lie wrote several " Prefaces" to the works of others; as to Mr. Chorlton's Funeral Sermon on the death of Mr. Henry Newcome of Manchester; — to the third volume of Dr. Manton's Sermons, by way of dedication to King William, in 16S9; — to Mr. Flavefs Discourse of JMental Errors, &c. Several volumes of ser- mons (says Mr. Palmer) taken in short-hand as they were preached, have since his death been published, viz. two by Dr. Evans and Dr. Harris, " on the Spirit's Influence on the Church," — and on " Particular Persons :''"' — Another by Dr. Evans, " on Family Religion,'" 12mo. — and tv/c more by Mr. Fletcher, " on the Love of God," kc, Svo. 1744. WILLIAM BEVERIDGE, D. D. BISHOP OF St. ASAPH. X HIS excellent Prelate, who, by his learning and piety, was one of the brightest ornaments to the church of England in his time, was born at Barrow in Leicestci'- shire, in the year 1638. He was educated at St. John's College, Cambridge, where he applied with great assidu- ity to the study of the oriental languages, and made such proficiency in this part of learning, that at eighteen years of age he wrote a ti'eatise of the excellency and use of the oriental tongues, especially the Hebrew, Chaldee, Syriac, Arabic, and Samaritan, with a Syriac Grammar. The 3d of January 1660-1, he was ordained deacon by Robert, Bishop of Lincoln, and priest the 31st of that month, and about the same time Avas presented to the vicarage of Ealing in Middlesey, which he resigned about a year after, upon his being chosen rector of St. Peter's, Cornhill, by the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London. He applied himself to the discharge of his ministry, with the utmost zeal and assiduity. He was highly instructive in his discourses from the pulpit, and his labours were crown- ed with such success, that he was styled ' The great reviv- er and restorer of primitive piety.' Bishop Hinchman, his diocesan, having conceived a great esteem for him, collated bini ^^- " f^s^i;^ ^^ ^^^ "" . Is. ^^ 5^ -m "^ « ^^^ — --^ % BE VE RIDGE. 145 lum to the prebend of Chiswick, in the cathedral of St. PaiiPs, on the 22d of December 1674; and this bishop's successor, Dr. Cotnpton, conferred ii])on him tlie arclidea- conry of Colchester, on the 3d of November 1*J8!. No- vember the 5th, 1684, he was instalkd prebendary of Can- terbury, and about the same time was appointed chaplain to King William and Queen Mary, In 1691 he was offered, hut refused to accept of, the see of Bath and Wells, vacant by the deprivation of Dr. Kenn, for not takinir the oaths to King Vv iiiiam and (^)ueen Mary. But stinie time time after he accepted of that of St. Asaph, and was consecrated July 16, ITOk Upon his advancement to t!ie episcopal chair, he wrote a most pathetic letter to the clergy of his diocese, recommending to them " The duty of catechizing and instructing the people committed to their charge in the principles of the Christian religion, to the end they might know what they were to believe, and do, in order to sal- vation."" And. to enable them to do this the more elT'ec- tually, he sent them a plain exj)osition upon the church catechism. This good Prelate did not enjoy his episcopal station above three years and some months, for he died March the .'5th, 1707, in the 71st year of his age, and was buried in St. Paul's cathedral. He left the greatest part of his estate to the Societies for Propagating Christian Kn.)wledge. To the curacy of ]>Iount Sorrel, and vicarage of Barrow, in the county of Leicester, he bequeathed twenty pounds a-year, on condition that prayers be read morning and evening every day, according to the liturgy of the church of England, in the chapel and parish church aforesaid ; with the sum of forty shillings yearly, to be divided ecptally upon Christmas Eve among eight poor house-kee[)ers of Barrow, as the minister and church- wardens should agree. Bishop Beveridge has had a high character given him by several writers. The author of a letter published in the Guardian, having made an extract out of the bishop's first sermon in the second volume, relating to the Deity, tells us, that it may for acuteness of ju-lgment, ornament of speech, and true sublime, compare with any of the choicest writings of the ancient fatiiers, or doctors of the church, who lived nearest to the apostles' times. Dr. Henry Felton, in his dissertation on refiding the classics and forming a just style, wi'itten in the year 1701), &c. tells us, ' Tliat our learned and venerable Bishop hath de- livered himself with those ornaments alone, which his >ui)ject suijgested to him, and hath written in that plain- V OL. 1\'. L ness 146 BE VE RIDGE. ness and solemnity of style, that gravity and simplicity, which give authority to the sacred truths he teacheth, and unanswerable evidence to the doctrines he defendeth ; that there is something so great, primitive, and apostolical in his writings, that it creates an awe and veneration in our mind. That the importance of his subjects is above the decoration of words, and v.hat is great and majestic in itself, looketh most like itself, the less it is adorned. The true sublim.e in the great articles of our faith is lodged in the plainest words. The divine llevelations are best ex- pressed in the language they were revealed in ; and, as I observed before of the Scriptures, they will suil'er no or- nament, nor amendment."* Thus Dr. Felton. Another writer gives this character of our excellent Bishof) : ' This great and good Bishop had very early ad- dicted himself to piety and a religious course of life, of which his Private Thoughts upon Religion will be a lasting evidence. They were written in his younger years ; and he must, a considerable time before this, have devoted himself to such practices, otherwise he could never have drawn up so judicious and sound a declaration of his faith, nor have formed such excellent resolutions so agreeable to the Christian life in all its parts. These things shew him to be acquainted with the life and power of religion long before, and that evenfroina child he knew the Holy Scrip- tures. And as his piety was early, so it was very eminent and conspicuous, in all the parts and stations of his life. As he had formed such good resolutions, he made suitable im- provements upon them ; and they, at length, grew up into such settled habits, that all his actions savoured of nothing but piety and religion. His holy example was a very great ornament to our church ; and he honoured his profession and function by zealously discharging all the duties tliereof. How remarkable was his piety towards God ! What an awful sense of the Divine Majesty did he always express ! How did he delight in his worship and service, and frequent his house of prayer ! How great was his charity to men ; how earnestly was he concerned for their welfare, as his pathetic addresses to them in his discourses plainly discover ! How did the Christian spirit run through all his actions, and what a wonderful pat- tern was he of primitive purity, holiness, and devotion ! As he was remarkable for his great piety and zeal for religion, so he was highly to be esteemed for his learning, which he vrholly applied to promote the interest of liis great BEVERIDGE. 147 great Master. He was one of extensive and almost uni- versal reading : He was well skilled in the oriental lan- guages, and the Jewish learning, as may appear from many of his sermons; and, indeed, he was furnishetl to a very eminent degree with all useful knowledge. He was very mucii to be admired for his readiness in tiie Scriptures: He had made it his business to acquaint himself thoroughly with those sacred oracles, whereby he was furnished unto all goad works: He was able to produce suittdde passages from them on all occasions, and was very happy in explain- ing them to others. Thus he improved his time and his abilities in serviiig God and doing good, till he arrived at a good old age, when it pleased his great Master to give him rest from his labours, and to assign him a place in those man- sions of bliss, where he had always laid up his treasure, and to wiiich his heart had been all along devoted throughout the whole course of his life and actions. He was so highly esteemed among ali learned and good men, that when he was dying, one of the chief of his order deservedly said of him, ' There goes one of the greatest, and one of the best men, that ever England bred.' The learned Dr. Lupton, in a letter to Mr. Nelson, occasioned by the publication of Bishop Bull's Sermons, discoursing witii great judgment concerning the most proper and useful manner of pi-eaching, in the close, ranks our venerable Prelate v»'ilh St. Chrysostom himself in these words : ' Those therefore who are censorious enough to reflect with severity upon the pious strains which are to be found in St Chrysostom, Bishop Beveridge, or Bishop Bull, may possibly be good judges of an ode, or an essay, but do not seem to criticise justly upon sermons, or to express a just value for spiritual things.' Notwithstanding these just and candid opinions, it must not be concealed, that the enemies of the truths which this good Bishop maintained, or rather which the church of England maintains in her articles and homilies, (for the Bishop held no otiu'r) made a virulent attack upon liis writings soon after liis decease. At that time, as well as at this, there were people, who could pretend to subscribe the articles ex animn, for [)referment, without believing a word of tliem ; and, not satisfied with this duplicity, could have tue effrontery likewise to be very angry witii those who conscientiously did believe and honestly pro- fessed them. The Bishop has been charged with absur- dities upon the doctrine of the Trinity, with downright Calvinism, us BEVERIDGE. Calvinism, &c.~l)ut, let it l^e remembered it was by An- titriiiitarians, Pelagians, Socinians, and Arminians, who, it must be owned, are not very /a?r judges upon tlie case. His " Private Thoughts," than which we have very few more excellent books, have been a particular object of" their animadversion. One hundredth part of this good man's piety, in his adversaries, wou'd have led them to different conclusions, and have caused at least a silent reverence ibr a character which very few men of any order are over- disposed to excel. If such men as Whiston, and Collins his admirer, were to dictate the rules of orthodoxy, we Can easily guess what would become of all the confessions and formularies of faith, which are supported by divine au- thority and by divine grace witnessing their truth in men's hearts and lives ; and, what sort of respect might be shewn, in a very iittle time afterwards, to the Bible itself: For the humour of impeaching divine, as well as political positions, knows no end, but subversion and anarchy. However, we have reason to be thankful for that gracious promise, that the gates of hell shall not prevail against the church or truths of Gon, to the end of the world ; and, therefore, we need not be more deeply concerned, than in charity we ought to be for the self-deluding innovators themselves, concerning a matter which has the Avisdom of God to conduct, and the power of God to support it at all times. Bishop Beveridge left many Works. Those published by himself are as follow: I. De Linguarum Orienla- lium, prcesertim H(braic(e^ Chaldaiae^ Si/riac(p, ArabictE, et Sdmarit nicce^ pra'stanlid el usu. Lond. 1658. II. In- stit ilionem Chronologicarum libri duo, 7ina cv.m iotidem ariilivitlic.es chronolvgica' lihellis. liond. 16ti9. III. Zvjj'^Kov sive Pandectce Canonum S. S. apostolorum et concilionim ah Ecdesia Grceca receptortfrn, Sec. Oxonii. 2 vols, folio, 167^. IV^. Codex Canonum Ecdesia: Pri~ viitiva vindicatus et illustratus. Lond. 1679. V. The Church Catechism explained for the Use of the Diocese of St. Asaph. Lond. 1704, ^to," reprinted several times since in a small volume. Besides t!ie above-mentioned works of this prelate, we have the following published after his death : VI. Private Thoughts upon Religion, digested into twelve articles, with Practical Resolutions formed tfiereupon ; written in his younger years (when he was about twenty-three years old) for the settling of his prin- ciples and conduct of life. Lond. 1701). VII. Private Thoughts upon a Christian Life ; or necessary Directions for D O O L I T T L E. 149 for its beginning and progress upon earth, in order to its final Periections in the Beatific Vision. London, 1709. VIII. The great Necessity and Advantage of Puhiic Prayer and frequent Communion. Designed to revive Primitive Piety ; with Meditations, Ejaculations, and Prayers, befoi'e, at, and after the Sacrament. London, 1710. These have been reprinted several times in 4to. and l^mo. IX. One Hundred and Fifty Sermons and Discourses on several subjects. London, 1708, (kc. in twelve vols. Svo. Reprinted at London, 1719, in two vols. fol. X. Thesaurus Thcohgicm ; or, A complete System of Divinity, summed up in brief Notes upon se- lect Places of die Old and New Testament; wherein the Sacred Text is reduced under proper Heads, explained and illustrated with the Opinions and Autl.'orities of the antient Fathers, Councils, &c. London, 1711, four vols. Svo. XI. A Defence of the Book of Psalms, collected into English metre, by Thomas Sternhold, John Hopkins, and others, with Critical Observations on the New Ver- sion compared with the Old. London, 1710, Svo. In this Book he gives the Old Version the preference to the New. XII. Exposition of the Thirty-Nine Articles, London, 1710, 17 IG, fol. THOMAS DOOLITTLF. I HOM.\S DOOLITTLE was born at Kidderminster in Worcestershire, in the year 1630. He early d:•^cover- ed an inclination to learning, and, at a proper age, was sent to Cambridge, and admitted into Pembroke Hall. Here he bent his studies for the ministry, in which he had Mr. Baxter's encouragement. Whilst at school at Kidderminster, he heard Mr. liaxer preach those sermons, which were afterwards printed in his book of 'J^he Saint*'s Rest : Some of which discourses were blessed oi God to his conversion, whicli was the ground of that peculiar esteem and affection which he would often express for that holy man, whom God had made his spiritual father. Some of his friends would have had him brout;"ht up to the law, and" he was actually put upon trial to an attorney in the 150 D O 0 L I T T L E. the country, with whom he did not stay ^ong, as Provi- dence had dcsli^ned him to other work. Being set to copy out some writinj^s on tlie Lord's Day, he obeyed his master witii great reluctance: and the next day went home to his i'ather, and complained of the wound it had made in his spirit ; adding, that he could no more think of returning to his place, or of applying himself to anv thing else", as the business of his life, but serving Christ in the work of the gospel. Thus he went to the university under the privilege and blessing of a tender conscience, jon the licence granted l)v King Charges, in 1672, he resumed his place and work as a })reacher, and, moreover, taking a large house at Islington, set ^ ' D O O L I T T L E. 153 set up an academy, and as a tutor fitted several young men for the ministry, among whom hi? own son was one, the late Reverend Mr. Samuel Doolittlc, who was manv years pastor of a congregation at Reading in Berkshire. When King Charles's licence was recalled, and the act came out, driving dissenting ministers live miles from a corporation, Mr. Doolittle broke up house-keeping, and went with his family to board at Wimblcton. Several of his pupils went witli him, lodging themselves in neighbouring houses, from whence they went to him at appointed hours to be instructed. After this he removed to IJattersea. where his goods w^ere seized and sold : And not only here, but in other places, his house was rifled, and his person often in danger ; but Providence still favoured his escape, so that he was never imprisoned. At length the toleration gave him an opportunity of returning to his old place and people in Mugwell Street, where he continued as long as he lived, a faithful preacher and pastor, watching for souls, as one that must give an account. Besides his preaching twice every Lord's Day, he liad also a weekly lecture on Wedi>esdays. He also printed many practical books, by which, bfing dead, lie yet speaketh. He had a great felici- ty and delight in catechizing, and urged ministers to it, as of special tendency to propagate knowledge, establish persons in the truth, and prepare them to read r.nd hear sermons wit!) greater advantage. In 1G02 his wife died, who was truly i\\c desire of his eyes, and the most agreeable companion of his life for thirty-nine years. He had by her three sons and six daughters. The loss of his affectionate wife made a very doep impression upon his spirits, which occa- sioned his preaching and printing those discourses which he called " The Mourner's Directory." In his lat- ter years be was greatly afflicted with tiie stone,' and by that and other distempers, more than once brought, to appearance, very near the grave; but, on his people's meeting in prayer for him, he was wonderfully restored, and longer spared on this side heaven, as a happy instru- ment to help others thither. When thus delivered, he was full of care to answer the purposes of grace in prolonging his day, under the quick- ening apprehension that it must have an end. ^Vitli this thought he did what his hand found to do, with all his might, as one waiting for his Lord, and willing and de- sirous to be found amongst those servants who shall be blessed by him at his coming. Upon hU recovery from a sore 154 D 0 O L I T T L E. a sore fit of the stone, in which his life was in danger, he thus writes to his people in the epistle before the Mourner's Directory: " I am sensible I liave but a iittle time to tarry with you; in the grave, whlLher I am going, I can neither preach nor catechise, nor do any thing for myself or you; the daily thoughts whereof are spurs and goads to me to put on and hasten to do all I can while I .'Mil with you. O that I could preach every sermon as a dying man, and so near unto eternity! O that you may liear as those that stand upon the brink of the grave, and borders of an eternal world, not knowing which of you may pass. out of time into an everlasting state before you may liave an opportunity to hear again ! That you and I may mind and practise what is preached and heard, ac- cording to God''s word. With blushing I do acknowledge mv inability for such great v/oi*k ; but though I have but half a talent, the Lord knows I do desire to use it and improve it for his glory, and the advantage of immortal souls that shortly must be damned or saved, and that my endeavours may be so watered with the blessing of God, (who can work by whom he will) that they may issue in the conviction, conversion, and sanctification of the hear- ers, that they may be saved and not damned, and the ac- count may be given by me and them with joy and not with grief." Though he entered betimes into the way as a Christian, and into Christ's vineyard as a minister, he Jield on in both without fainting, even to the seventy- reventli year of his age, and the fifly-third of his ministry. A life prolonged to unusefulness, he would sometimes mention as the greatest trial he feared; but God was gracious to him, and prevented his being put to that trial ; for he was capable of service to his last v.-eek, and the very Lord's day before his death he preached and ca- techized with great vigour. The subject of his last ser- mon was, 1 John v. 4. And this is the victor?/ (hat over- comcth the world,, n^cn our faith. By this faith he had liv- ed, and from the same principle, looking nnto Jesus, he was enabled in a becoming manner to die. Tlie time of his sickness was short, being confined but two days to his bed, during wliich tiie physicians thought it Piccessary to keep him for the most part dozing, so that iie could not say much to those about him. But, in the ■valley of the sliadow of deatii, he had God's gracious presence with him, and so much sense of it as proved a };owerful cordial to his support, when ilesli and heart were ready to fail. Being desired by his son, when he lay speechlessj D O O L I T T L E. 166 speechless, to signify if he had inward peace and satis- faction as to his eternal state, by lifting up his hand, he readily lifted up his hand, and soon after fell asleep, INIay 24, 1707, the last of the London ministers ejected by the act of uniformity. His body was carried to the burying ])lace in Biinhill Fields, followed by a numerous train of true mourners. The next Lord's day after the interment, his funeral sermon was preached by Dr. Williams, from 2 Cor. i. 12. JFor our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicily and godly sincerity, not with jleshl^/ wis- dom, but by the iirace of God, we have had our conversation in the world. This character, said the doctor, belonged much to, and was exemplified as plainly In, our worthy brother deceased, as in most. Thus whilst in the world he evidenced that he was not of it, and spent his life and labours in preparing himself and others for a better, to which he is now gone. Ministers, even the most holy and useful, must die as well as others. Jll jlesh is grass^ and all the glori/ of man as the Jlowcr of gy-ass. The grass wither eth, and the jiower thereof fall eth awai/, but the word nf the Lord endureth for ever ; and this is the word which by the f^ospel is preached unto %/ou. His Works. " I. A Sermon concerning Assurance, in the Morning Exercise at Cripplegate, 4to. 1(361. II. A spiritual Antidote against sinful Contagion (a Cordial for Believers, with a Corrosive for the Wiclced) in dying Times, Svo. 1665. III. A Treatise concerninor the Lord's Supper, 12mo. 1665. IV. Directions how to live after a wasting Plague. 8vo. 1666. V. A Rebuke for Sin, by God's burning Anger, Svo. 1667. VI. The young Man's Instructor, and the old Man's Remembrancer. 8vo. 1673. VII. Captives bound in Chains, made free by Christ their Surety: Or, The Misery of graceless Sinners, and their Recovery by Christ their Saviour. Svo. 1674. \'IIL A Sermon concerning Prayer, in the Supplement to the Morning Exercise. 1674. IX. The Novelty of Popery : A Sermon in the ^Morning Exercise against Poj)ery. 4to. 1675. X. The Lord's last Sufferings shewed in the Lord's Supper. 12mo. 1682. XL A Call to delaying Sinners. 12mo. 1683. XIL A Sermon of eyeing Eter- nity in all we do; in the Continuation of the Morning Exercise. 4to. 1638. XIII. A Scheme of tiie Principles of the Christian Religion. Svo. 1688. XIV. The Swearer silenced : Or, The Evil and Danger of I'rofane Swear- ing and Perjury demonstrated. 12mo. 1689. XV. Love tQ 156 W I T S I U S. to Christ necessary to escape the Curse at his coming, 8vo 1695. XVI. Earthquakes explained, and practi- cally improved, Svo. 1693. XVil. Th.- Mourner's Di- rectory, Svo. 1693. XVIII. A plain Method of Cate- chizing, Svo. 1698. XIX. The Saints' Convoy to, and Mansions in Heaven, Svo. 1698 XX. A Complete Bo- dy of Practical Divifiity; being a new Improvement of the Assembly's Catechism, fol. 1723," HERMAN WITSIUS, D. D. 1 HE celebrated Dr. Marck of Leyden, in his Latia oration delivered at the interment of Witsius, gave the moat fu;l account of his life ,• from which account the fol- lowing memoir is chiefly extracted. This excellent man of God, and of true science, was born at Enchuysen in West Friesland, on the I2th of Fe- bruary 1639, of religious parents, who devoted him to G'-D even from before his birth. He was named Herman from his mother's father, who was a most pious minister at that place for above thirty years. He came (as it is called) i^efore his time, and this premature birth had well nigh cost both mother and son their lives. In conse- quence of this, he was, when born, so uncommonly small and weakly, that the midwife, and other women present, concluded he must die in a few hours. But, herein, God disapj)ointed their fears, and (for what can make void his j)urposes ?) raised this puny infant, afterwards, into a very '^reat man, (not in body, tor he was always spare and thin): A man of vast intellectual abilities, brightened and improved by deep study, and whose fame diffused itself liironghout the whole Christian world, by his useful, nu- merous, and learned labours. His parents, after this danger, took particular care of iiis education, and were obliged to be extremely tender of Ills health. Above all, they endeavoured (and their en- deavours were crowned with success equal to their largest' wishes) to bring him up /// ihe nurture av > "(hnonilron of [he Lord: Teaching him, ere he could speak distinctly, to lisp. W I T S I U S. 157 lisp out tho praises of God, and unfold Ids wants in prayer before the tlirone of grace. In the sixth year of his age, he was entered at tlie public school of his native town, to learn the rudiments of Latin. There he con- tinued three years ; at the end of which space, his mo- ther's brother, the learned Peter Gerhard, look him to liis own house, and under ids own inuneuiate tuition. Under the care of his good uncle, Witsius n-.ade so rapid a proj^ress in learning, that, before he was fiiteen vears old, he could not only speak and write the Latin language correctly, and with some degree of fluency, but could also readily interpret the books of the Greek Testament, and ti»e orations of Isocrates, and render the Hebrew com- raei^taries of Samuel into Latin: At the same lime giving the etymology of the original words, and assigning the reasons of the variations of the pointing grammatically. He had, likewise, now acqiured some knowledge of philo- so;)hy; and had so far made himself master of logic, tliat wlien he was removed to the university, he needed no preceptor to instruct him in that art. He learned also, while he continued with his uncle, Vv''alceus''s and Burgers- dicius''s Compendiums of Ethics: Which latter author he plied so diligently, that he could at any time rey)eat by heart the quotations cited by him from any of the ancient writers, whether Greek or Latin. He acquainted himself, too, wdth the elements of natural philosophy and meta- J)hysics; and, as his uncle always kept him usefully- em- ploved. he was likewise master, and that almost by heart, of Windelin's Compendium of Theology: The good nian deeming it an essential and special part of his duty to make his nepiiew, from his earliest youth, intimately versed in matters of divinity. His uncle himself had, from his own childhood, been inured to sanctify the ordinary actions and offices of life, by sending up ejhculatory aspirations to God, suitable to the business he was about ; in order to which, he !iad made his memory the store-house of some more endnently useful and familiar texts of Scripture, both of tlie Old and New Testament, which related or might be accom- Tuodated to every part of common life ; so that, when he lay down, rose up, dresstd, washed, walked abroad, stu- died, or did any thing else, he could repeat apposite [;as- sages front the holy Scriptures in their original languages of either Hebrew or Greek; therebv, in a very endnent manner, acknowledging God in al! his ways, and doing whatsoever 15S W I T S I U S. whatsoever he did to his glory. This same excellent practice he recommended to his nephew; which had so happj an effect, that very many portions, both of the Hebrew Bible and Greek Testament, were, in his youth, so deeply impressed on Witsius''s memory, that, even in his old age, he never forgot them. From his uncle's care he was removed to Utrecht. What chiefly recommended this place to him, were the advantages he hoped to gain from the lectures and con- versation of those very famous divines, who, at that time, flourished tliere ; especially Maatsius, Hoornbeck, and Gisbert Voetius. Hither, therefore, he came, A. 1). 1651, and in the fifteenth year of his age. But, just before he reached Utrecht, Maatsius was gathered to his fathers; so th.at, on his arrival, he had only the melancholy satis- faction of hearing the great Hoornbeck pronounce the funeral oration over his much-loved friend and colleague. Here he went tlirough a prodigious course of oriental learning ; and he very early gave a specimen of his great proficiency in the Hebrew tongue, by composing a most elegant and masterly oration in that language, De Mtssia Judaorum et Christianoruin; which, at the request of his master Leusden, he pronounced, with great applause, be- fore the university, A. D. 1654, and in the eighteenth year of his age. Though he was thus devoted to matters of literature, he, nevertheless, set apart the greater por- tion of his time for the study of divinity, to Avhich, as he rightly judged, the others were to act in subserviency. In order to proceed properly in this greatest and best of sciences, he put himself under the guidance of such theo- logical professors as were most eminent for profound learning and the exactest skill in the sacred volumes. These were Gisbert Voetius, John Hoornbeck, Walter Bruinius, and Andrew Essenius. About this time, he had a great desire of repairing to GronitTgen, chiefly with a view to see and hear the celebrated Maresius, then pro- fessor of divinity in that university. Hither, therefore, lie repaired, towards the latter end of the year 1654. Being arrived, he devoted himself entirely to divinity, under the sole guidance of Maresius, and entered on the exercises previous to preaching. These he performed in the French tongue; and acquitted himself entirely to the satisfaction of iiis tutor. Having spent a year at Gronin- gen, and obtained ample testimonials of his good l)eha- viour and great abilities from tlie college of divines, he deter- W I T S I U S. 359 determined for Leyden : But, having received informa- tion that the plague was making great h.avoc in tliat city, he changed his mind, and resolved to revisit Utrecht, that he might there perfect himself in divinity. On his return to Utrecht, lie not only, as formerly, at- tended all the divinity lectures, both public and private, of the several prolessors, but entered into a strict and thorough intimacy Avith that very excellent divine, Bo- gaerdtius, than whom, Witsius v.-as of opinion, a greater man never lived. From his lectures, conversation, ex- ample, and prayers, through the grace of the Divine Spirit, Witsius was enlightened into the mysteries of the Redeemer''s kingdom, and led into the comfortable, heart- felt enjoyment of inward, spiritual, and experimental Christianity. Through his means, he first learned how widely dilFerejit that knowledge of divine thinjis is, which flows from mere learning, study, and acquisition, from that sublime and heaven-taught wisdom, which is the re- sult of fellowship with Christ by the Holy Ghost ; and wliich, tiirough his own powerful intluences on the hearts of his elect, gloriously conforms the believing soul more and more to the blessed image of its Divine Saviour. Witsius always liumbly and thankfully acknowledged, that Bogaerdtius was the instrument God made use of, to lead him into the innermost temple of holy love and gracious experience ; whereas, till then, he stood only in the outer court: But from thenceforward, disclaiming all vain wisdom and self-dependence, he was happily brought to sit down at the feet of Jesus, simply to learn the mys- teries of his grace from his blessed teachings alone, and to receive his kingdom as a little child. Nor yet was he so taken up with these delightful and sublime matters, as to omit or slight his academical studies, which appeared from his Theses concerning the Trinity, written about this time: Whereinj with great learning and singular ability, he proved that important doctrine from the writings of the ancient Jews, and she;ved how very far the modern ones were degenerated, in that article, from their rabbins and forefathers. These Theses he debated publicly in the university, under the presidency of Leusden : And al- though they were opposed by some of the oldest standers and ablest disputants in tlie college, yet Leusden was of opinion, that his young pupil defended his positions so well, and maintained his ground in so firm and masterly a manner, as to stand in need of no assistance I'rom him: Wherefore he sut by the whole time, without interpos- 160 W I T S I U S. ing one word, but left Witsius entirely to himself. And it being customary there, when disputations are over, for the flefendant to return thanks to the president for his care and assistance ; when Witsius did this, the president replied, with equal truth and politeness, ' You have no reason. Sir, to make me such an acknov/ledgment, since you neither had, nor stood in need of any assistance from me.' This was in the year 1655, and in the nineteenth year of his age. Being, by this time, very famons in the two Universities of Utrecht and Groningen, it was thought high time for iiini to enter on an office, wherein he might be made of general service to the church. Vv'^hereforc he presented himself, lor his preparatory exa- mination, at Encliuysen, A. D. 1656. Here he was ad- mitted to preach publicly ; which he did with extraordi- nary reputation and universal applause. At the instigation of that reverend man, John Boisus, minister of the French protestant church at Utrecht, Wit- sius, though naturally exceedingly bashful and diflident, was prevailed with to solicit tlie assembly of French di- vines, convened a^t Dort, for licence to preach publicly, and in the French. language, in their churches. This he easily obtained, partly by the influence of the celebrated Anthony Hulsius, [the excellent.author of the Theologia Jiulaica,] to whom, at the request of Boisus, Witsius had written a very elegant epistle in Hebrew. From that time forward, he often preached in French, both at Utrecht and Amsterdam; cjs, in the course of his ministry, he had done a considerable time before, out of the French pulpit at Leu- warden. But, thinking himself not quite perfect in that language, he purposed taking a journey into France for that end ; as also, that he migiit have an opportunity of seeing the many eminent divines and university j)r()fessors, who then flourished in the protestant parts of that kingdom. But Divine Trovidence was pleased to order matters other^ wise; for in the year 1657, and the twenty-firstof his age, be had a regular call from the church at Westwouden, to be their minister; and into this office he was initiated on the 8th of July in the same year. Here he waited on Goo and his church for upwards of four years; and, being in the pr me of life, was the better able to discharge the duties of his function with activity and diligence. He had the satisfaction to see his labours succeed, especially among the younger sort, whom he very frequently catechized, with great sweetness and condescension, accommodating himself to their understandings, insomuch that both the children and W I T S I U S. IGi and youth of the place, who, at his first coming tliere, were quite ignorant ot'every thing, conld not only give a Judicious account in the principal heads in divinity, but could also confirm and support the account they gave with numerous and pertinent quotations iVom Scripture: And, when tliey came home irom church, and were, at any time., questioned as to the sermon they had heard, they could, without any troulile, recapitulate tiie chief parti- cuhu's of the discourse, its subject, divisions, doctrines, and improvements. When the fame of our learned and able pastor began to reach far and wide, he received an invitation from the church of AVormeren, in the same province of North Holland, to be their minister : a church famous for its numbers, but, at that time, sadly harassed with intestine jars and divisions ; and who, therefore, thought thev could not choosy a pastor mare capable oPedifying his (lock, and of calming their tussensions, than Witsius. To this call of their's he acceded, and undertook the ministry of that church in the month of October 1661, and the twenty- fifth year of his age. Here he staid four years and an Jialf : So reconciling all parties, and building them up in the knowledge of Christ, and the obedience of faith, that on the one hap.d, ho had the comfort to see himself the object of his people's most atfectioiiate regard ; and, on the other, that his pious and pacific labours were not in vain in the Lord. He was afterwards called to Goos, in Zealand. \Vhile he continued here, he enjoyed such opportunities of study and retirement, and was, in all respects, so com- fortably situate, that he would often declare, afterwards, he never spent his time with greater pleasure and improve- ment. From this place he was removed to Leuwarden, the capital of Friesland, in April 1668. During his stay at Leuwarden, it can scarce be conceived with what vigilance, faithfulness, and prudence, he laid himself out for the edification, comfort, and discreet guidance of that church: which Avas a matter of the greater difficulty, as the public atlairs were in a very critical and precarious situation ; the United Provinces being at tliat tiine engaged in a dan- gerous war, and the enemy making frequent inroads into tjieir territories. In the year 1675, that learned divine, John Melchoir Steinberg, pjofessor of theology in the university of Fra- neker, dej)arted to a better world ; and, that they might the better repair so great a loss, the university made choice of Witsius to fill up the vacant professorship; especially, VOL. I\'. M as 162 W I T S I U S. as they had abundant experience of his integrity and gref^t abilities, during his seven years residence in their jirovince of Friesland. And, which seemed to add still greater weight to tiieir invitation, and made it appear yet more providential, tiie church at Franeker being, about the same time, deprived of one of their pastors, embraced the pre* sent occasion of calling him to be over them. Witsius, on the offer of these two important charges, repaii'ed to Franeker; and, after the university had conferred on him the degree of doctor in divinity, he was solemnly invested witli flie professorship on the 15th of April 1675, having first, as is customary, delivered a most excellent oration De vero Theologo, to the great satisfaction of a vastaudi- torv, who flocked to Franeker, on this occasion, from all parts of tlie province. During his presidency, tlie utii- versitv was remarkably thronged with students ; many who were designed for the ministry, repairing thithec on his account, from various j^arts of Europe; who, liaving finished their studies under his tutorage and direction, re- turned back to their own several countries, equally built up in pietv, and advanced in learning. And, that he might be defective in no part of his duty, but every way answer the large expectations of those who promoted him, he had scarce entered on his professorship, before he began (sur- rounded as he was with business of great importance, both public and private, all which he faithfully and ably dis- charged) to set about writing ; and published, in a very short space, (besides some select academical disputations, and a smaller discourse) two learned and pretty large treatises in Latin ; to wit, his immortal book on the Economy of the Covenants, and his Exercitations on the Apostles' Creed. These had a prodigious sale, being- soon vended throughout Holland and all Europe ; and, eu\varden. He had, like- wise, in the university, beside those already mentioned, that great linguist, John I^eusden, formerly his tutor ; together with Gerard Uries-us, and John Luitsius, both very eminent in philosophy, and to wliose care, for in- struction in matters purely literary, tiiose youth were comniitted who ware designed for the ministry. His congregation at church consisted chiefly of the ma- gistrates and inhabitants of the city ; who were all no less edified, than astonished, at the energy which accompanied his preaching, and the masterly freedom a,nd propriety of his elocution. As a pnr)]!c and private tutor, he had a most numerous circle of excellent youths, who flocked, on his account, to Utrecht, from every part of the protes- tant vvorld ; and who hung, with no less rapture than Improvement, on his learned, pious, and eloquent lips. Even his private lectures were attended, daily, not only I)v these his pupils, but likewise by great numbers of doc- tors in divinity, and professors of the several sciences. This great man, therefore, seeing Iiis labours crowned wit'.i such abundant success, spared no pains nor fatigues, whereliy he might cicivance the interests, and diffuse the knowledge, of religion and learning. In consequence of this, he v.'ould spend many nights totally vrithout sleep : nor was he content with serving the church and the uni- versity, by preaching, lecturing, conversing, and dis- puting in tlie public halls, but committed his treasures of knowledge to writing, and published many books truly invaluable, which will transmit his name with renown to succeeding generations : nor can |.hey ever sink into oblivion, so long as true religion, unaffected eleganccj and profound literature, have a friend left in the world. The people of Utrecht, from the highest to the lowest, Avere thoroughly sensible of the worth of such a man : whence we find them heaping all the honours upon him, which, as a minister, he was capable of receiving. He had always the precedence given him in their synods, and was twice honoured with the supreme government and headship of the university : namely, in the years 1C86 and 16[)7. Nor must we omit, that when, in the year 1C85, W I T S I U S. 165 JGS5, the States of Holland sent a sjilendid embassy to James the Second, King of Great Britain, who at that time was pursuing measures which ended in his ruin, and Wassenaer, liord of Duvenwarden, and Weedius, Lord of Dylceveldt, and Cittersius, were the persons nominated to execute this commission ; the second of these noble per- sonages easily convinced the other two, that none was so* proper to attend them to England, in quality of chap- lain, as Witsius ; who might not only by his uncommon knowledge in religious and civil matters be of great ser- vice to them in botii respects, but also be no small credit to the reformed churches of Holland, by letting the English nation see what great divines flourished there. The design being intimated to Witsius, he ciieerfully closed with it, though he was at that time very ill, and weak in body. After some months stay in England, he confessed, on his return, that he had conversed with Dr. Sancroft, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Compton, the Bishop of London, and many other divines, both conformists and dissenters ; " by which conversations, he would say, I was much furthered in learning, experience, and mode- ration." * From that period forward, the principal pre- lates and clergymen in England did not conceal the respect and esteem in which they held this great man, especially as he came to be more and more knov.n to them. ' By this time, there were few places in the Christian world, which the fame of Witsius had not readied. And now it was, that the commissioners of the University of Leyden, and the magistrates of that city, resolved on in- viting him thither ; and the rather, as the very eminent F. S})anhemius, junior, was judged to be ill, past reco- very : and it pleased King AVilliam, then governor of Hol- land, to ratify their choice with his royal aj)probation. The professorship of Leyden being tendered to Witsius in form, he accepted it. Though the people of Utrecht were un- Avilling to part with so great an ornament, he had solid and sufficient reasons for removing ; as he judged he might be more useful, if, for the few remaining years of his life (which, according to the course of nature, could not be many) he should desist from preaching, and devote himself entirely to university business. He was the more confirmed in tliis resolution, when he received information, from * Marckius's words are, ' Fassus at, — hand pntica ohseri's^e, q-i^ ad doctrincp suce faccrent augmenlum, el quibus ad omncm prudeniium redderetu.' inslTUctior.' 166 V\^ I T S I U S. from Heinsius, the illustrious administrator of Holland, that King William heartily concurred in Ins removal. Some time afterwards, that truly great monarch, having admitted Witsius to a personal conference, was pleased, with his own mouth, to ratify the same, in terms very af- fectionate and obliging ; assuring him, ' how highly agree- able it was to him, that he obeyed the call to the professor''^ chair at Leyden, of which call lie [?'. e. t\\e king] himself was the first mover ; and that, for the future, he might depend on his omitting no opportunity of testifying the favour he bore him, and the reverence in which he held him.' And the king was, ever after, as good as his word. On his entrance upon the professorship at Leyden, (^. e. on the 16th of October 1698), he delivered his fine oration De Thcologo modesto. And with what integrity he discharged his high office for the remaining ten years of his life ; how incessant his labours were; with what wisdom and skill he taught ; with what resistless eloquence he spoke ; with ■what alacrity he went through the academical disputations; how holily he lived ; M'ith what nervous beauty he wrote ; with what sweetness of address, with w hat humility, can- dour, and l)enignity of demeanoui", he behaved in common life ; and what an ornament he was to the university, were almost impossible, and altogether needless, to say. He liad scarce been a year at Leyden, when the States of Holland and West Friesland,at tlfc recommendation of the governors of the university, made him regent of their theological college, in the room of their lately deceased regent, Marcus Essius ; which he could superintend, with- out omitting any part of his duty as professor, having, for his associate in the professorship, the famous Anthony Hul- sius. Witsius entered, with great reluctance, on this new stage of action ; and it is well known, that he would have absolutely declined it, had he not considered himself bound in duty and gratitude, both to accede to the pleasure of the States, and to spend and be spent in the servlceof the church. However, he went through this weiglity office with fide- lity and indefatigable zeal : and Ids care for the youth under him was rendered easier, from the affection he bore them, and from the apparent success with which his in- structions were attended. At the same time, he was ecpially attentive to his duty as ])roftssor. Thus usefully he went on, till, upon the 8th of February 1707, partly on account of his advanced age, and partly through in- firmities of other kinds (his strength being almost ex- hausted V W I T S I U S. 167 Iiausted by heavy and frequent sicknesses for some years past,) he with great modesty resigned his important charge as regent, in a full assembly of the university heads and governors, who with one voice, and without intermis- sion, intreated his continuance in that office, but in vain: For Witsius, well nigh worn out with a series of years and labours, was as deaf to their in treaties as to the consideration of the great revenues he must forego, by quitting tiiat exalted post. At the same time, he was, at his own particular request, favoured with a discharge from the public exercise of his office as university profes- sor;" for the execution of which, with his usual accuracy and diligence, his great feebleness of body rendered him less able. And he declared on the occasion, to an inti- mate friend, that " he had much rather desist altogether from the exercise of his function, than not "o through with it in a becoming manner." It would have been impossible for Witsius to l^.ave un- dergone so many and incredible fatigues for the public benefit, had he met with domestic troubles and family disquiets. To prevent those, A. D. 1G60, he married Aletta van Borchorn, the daughter of Wessalius van Bor- chorn, a wealthy citizen and merchant of Utrecht. She was a woman happy in the singular sweetness of her tem- per; and, indeed, excelled in every Christian grace and social virtue. It was hard to say, whether she more loved or revered her husband: Between whom subsisted an un- interruj)ted harmony till her death, which happened in the year 1684, after living together twenty-four years. She was always the companion of his travels, having lived with him in North Holland, Zealand, F riesland, and Utrecht. Her last illness was very long and painful, v/hich, however, she bore with fortitude and resignation truly Christian ; and at last departed in great peace and comfort of soul. He was no less happy in his children : For, not to mention two sons who died young, he had three most pious and accomplished daughters. Witsius was an accurate philosopher; master of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin ; a very considerable Orientalist ; well versed in the history of all nations, ancient and modern, sacred and profane; and, for his consummate knowledge of theo- logy, in all its branches, it would be sujierfluous to speak. How happy he was at asserting and vindicating the truths of the gospel, almost every one knows. Witii the Holy Scriptures he intimately conversed, night and day : and, so exact was his familiarity with these, that he 168 W I T S I U S. he had (says Marckius) the original words, upon all oc- casions, very readily at command, and as readily could explain them. With respect to his temper, it was as sweet, humble, and benevolent, as can be imagined. Kence arose both his aversion to all unreasonable novel- ties in doctrine, and, at the same time, his great modera- tion toward such persons as difl'ered from him. He nei- ther chose to be dictated to, nor to dictate : He followed no party, and formed none. His favourite maxim was. In necessariif, unitas; in non-necessariis^ Uhertas; in omni- bus, (prudentia et) charitas.'^ He fore])oded the sad de- clension in doctrine and experience, which was coming on the protestant churches of Holland; and blessed Gou, that he was too old to live long enough to see it. And, though he could not help (such was his zeal for truth) taking notice of such of his reverend brethren as were de- sirous of striking out, according to the maxims of their own depraved reason, iniscriptural novelties, and forced constructions of Scripture ; yet, so far had he drank into the mind of Christ, that he did this vv'ith all tenderness, deference, and caution : And if any were angry at the freedom of his remarks, he received their resentment in a spirit of meekness, and either took no notice of those who reproached him, or repaid their slanders, by giving them those commendations which were due to them on account of their commendable qualities in other respects. Nor can it be wondered at, that a man so learned, iioly, hum- ble, and diligent, should, wherever he was, be attended with a vast concourse of pupils from every part of the reformed world : from Holland, Germany, France, Po- land, Prussia, Switzerland, Great Britain, and even from America, (among which last were some native Indians too) and that his acquaintance should be sought for by the most eminent scholars and divines throughout Europe. We now draw near to the last scene of this great man's life: For as, from his childhood, his thin, Avcak body had often struggled with many severe disorders, from whence most people were apprehensive he would die young; so now, being far in years, he advanced apace to the house appointed for all living. However, he constantly re- tained, under all his sickness, his senses and intellects in full vigour; insomuch that, till within a little before his death, he could, with all readiness, read the Greek Testa- ment, * Agreeable to which was the moUo upon all his seals, CANDIBK, W I T S I U S. 169 ment, of the smallest type, by moon-Hglit. But, as he advanced farther in life, he suffered the most dreadful tortures from the gout and stone : And, so I'ar back as six years before he died, he was seized, for tlie first time, witli a temporary dizziness, accompanied with a suspen- sion of memory, and absence of thought: And this, too, as lie was sitting in the professor's chair, and delivering an academical lecture. By the help of an able physician, these evils were a littfe mitigated : But, returning by de- grees, tiiey threatened future and more violent attacks. His last illness was ushered in by a reeling, ^ and an uni- versal languor. On the 18th of October 1708, he was seized with a fever, about one o'clock in the morning : which suddenly subsiding, a total feebleness and relaxation diffused itself over his body, and a torpor over his mind. The holy man, considering these symptoms, told, with great sereuiiy and composure, some friends who attended him, that " he knew they would issue in death." His senses were gradually weakened by repeated slumbers ; however, about his last hour he signified to Dr. Marckius his blessed hope and his heavenly desires, which he had frequently done before ; and then about noon, on the 22d of October 1708, he sweetly departed this life, in his seventy-third year, and entered into the joy of his Lord. His Works. In the year 1660, he published, " I. his Judaus Christtanizans circa jjrina'pia fidei et S. S. Tri- nilalcm.'^ II. A. D. 1665, at Wormeren, he published^ in Dutch, The Practice of Christianity, with Spiritual Representations, first, of what was laudable in the Unre- generate, and, then, of what was blameworthy in the Regenerate. III. At Leovarden, he set forth an Expla- nation ot" the Parable of God's Controversy with his Vineyard. At Franeker, he published, besides several lesser Treatises, IV. His Oeconomia Fivderuvi ; afterwards translated into Dutch, by the Rev. Mr. Harlingius. V. His Kxercitalioncs in Si/mbolum, which were also translated into Dutch, by iyh\. Costerus, at Delft. VI. At Utrecht. Kxercitalioncs in Orationem Dominicam. VII. His A'Zgjijp- tiaca^ with two lesser pieces annexed. VIII. His first volume of Miacellunea Sacra. IX. At I^eyden, he pub- lished his second volume of Miscellanea iSccra, complete ; and likewise, X. his Meletemala Lei/densia.''' * Thi.^ piece is so scarce, that, though many inquiries have been made, for it both iu England and Holland, it canuol be procured. no T A L L E N T S, FRANCIS TALLENTS, M. A. Francis TALLENTS was born at Pelsley, near Chesterfield, in Derhysliire, in November 1G19, and brought up at the public schools at Mansfield and Newark. About 1642 he travelled abroad as tutor to the sons of the Earl ot" Suftblk. He has often said, that what he saw abroad of the Popish religion, and what conference he had with its advocates, added much to his conviction of the falsehood and wickedness of it, and confirmed him in protestantism. Upon his return he was chosen fellow of Magdalen College, and was afterwards senior fellow, and president or vice- master of the college. He was a noted tutor there ; and, among others, Sir Kobert Sawyer and Dr. Burton were his pupils. He was ordained at London, November 29, 1648, by the third classical presbytery in that province. In 1652 he left the university, and went to Shrewsbury, where he became minister of St. Mary's ; and his labours were well accepted and useful. At the restoration he was not a little pleased, and made some advances towards a compli- ance in ecclesiastical matters. Eut when he saw how things were fixed in 1662, he was necessitated to quit his place, which' was his livelihood. In 1670 he travelled into I'rance as tutor to two young gentlemen, Mr. Boscawen and Mr. Hampden, (the former of whom died at Sirasburg of the small-pox). Having spent about two years and an half abroad, in 1673 he came back to Shrewsbury, and joined with Mr. Bryan in preaching to a congregation of dissen- ters in that town. Upon the liberty given the dissenters in 1687, he returned to Shrewsbury, and continued his miuisterial service there, in conjunction with I\Ir. Bryan. In King William'^s time, overtures being made towards a comprehension, some gentlemen that greatly valued his judgment, sent for him to London to discourse with him about it ; particularly concerning there-ordaining of such .is were ordained by presbyters. Upon mature deliberation he declared he could not submit to it ; and drew up his reasons at large. He was )nuch for occasional conformity, as a token of charity towards those whom we cannot sta- tedly join with. In 1691 he entered into his new place of worship, and preached his first sermon there on Is. Ivii. 15. He caused it to be written on the walls of the meet- ins' T A L L E N T S. 171 ing-place, " That it was built not for a faction or party, but for promoting repentance and faith, in communion with all that love our Lord Jesus Christ, in sincerity.'*' He addsd that scripture with which tlie French churches usually begin their public worship : Our help standclh in the name of the Lord, uho made heaven and earth. In all his address and converse he was, in the highest degree, respectful and complaisant. His p^oliteness was a great ornament to his learning and piety.- In his old age lie retained the learning both of the school and the academy to admiration. He had something to communicate to those who conversed with him concerning all sorts of learning; bat his master-piece, in which no man was more ready, was history. He abounded much in pious ejaculations in his common discourse. He was very happy in counselling his friends who apjilied to him for advice, and knew how to speak a word in season. He sometimes expressed his fear concerning many weak and melancjioly C^hristians, that they had tired themselves in the exercises of devotion; and would advise such to keep their minds as calm and sedate as possible, and not aim to put them always upon the stretch. He would sometimes pleasantly say, " The quietistsare the best Christians;"" and, with regard to the external performances of religion, would give this advice: " Let the work of God be done, and done well ; but with as little noise as may be." He was eminent for his charity, in judging of other persons and in relieving the necessitous, particularly strangers in distress, lie was in a remarkable degree dead to the world, knowing no good in it, but doing good with it ; and, by the little he left be- hind liim, shewed that he had no way of laying up what he iiad, but by laying it out in good works, (1 Tim. vi. 19.) His preaching was very plain, familiar, and affectionate. He studied not words, but things. He was frequent and earnest in pressing brotherly love. Love was the air he breathed in. He was much for extolling free grace, &c. but though he differed from Mr. Baxter in many of his notions and expressions concerning justification and other things, yet he liighly valued that great man for his learn- ing and piety, and the service he had done the cliurch by his practical writings ; and often spoke of him with great re- ispect and affection. Some davs before he died he blessed Gou that he was fuller of inward comfort and joy than he was able to express. After he had some time lain wait- ing, he began to think it long that he had not his release, and to cry, " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." But knowinj: 172 T R O S S E. knowing God's time is the best, he waited with patience for it. On the Lord's Day, April 11, he would have those about him (except one person) go to public worship. That day he seemed somewhat revived. IMany excellent words dropped from lilm, and he continued very sensible, calling upon God, till about nine or ten o'clock at night, when he sweetly slept in Jesus. His Works. I. A View of Universal History ; or Chro- nological Tables, [finely engraven on sixteen copperplates, in his own house.] (one of the greatest works of the age.) II. Sure and large foundations; designed to promote Ca- tholic Christianity. - III. A short History of Schism, for the promoting of Christian Moderation." And some, smaller works. GEORGE TROSSE. George TROSSE * was bom in Exon, the '2,'Sth of October 1G31. His grandfather, Thomas Trosse, Esq. had nine sons and one daugiiter; his father, Henry Trosse, Esq. the eldest son, was bred a counsellor at law; his mother was Rebekah, the daughter of Mr. Walter Burrow, a merchant, who was twice ma}'or of Exeter, and a consideiable benefactor to the city. He was put to nurse in the country to a woman that kept him till he was almost starved. His life was even despaired of ; so that his father being about to take a journey, in which he should not be absent long, before his departure appointed the place where he should be buried. At seventeen weeks old, he was committed to another woman, by whose care (through the blessing of God) he soon recovered. He was much affected with his preservation, and makes many pious re- flections upon it.-|- He was brought up according to his degree, * Tlis great grnriilfatber bad eii;bteeii oUildrcn by one wife; his .ciand- father len; his fjlher sixteen; and his uncle, Mr. Roger Tro.ssp, ten. -f In a lar;;,!? manuscript, discovered ^iiice the tormer narrative of hi.'? life was printed, " God (saith he) wliu feeds the young ravens when deserted by their dams, and takes care of llie ostrich's t:sg<, when left in the earth by tlie forgetful bird, looked upon me in mtroy : And though 1 was absent from the eyes and ears of friends, lie whose eyes run to and fro through the whole earth, and who is ready to lie'.p those wiio are rftstitute of ?iid, put it into the heart of a servant of my father to come andl T H O S S E. 173 «3egree, in the city of Exeter. At the grammar school, having a quick apprehension, and delighting in his book, he outstri()t most of his school-fellows. lie was also mo- dest, civil, obedient to his parents, and free from those youthful extravagancies to v/lnch others of his age were addicted: So tliat his master v.as much troubled when he was taken from him, and said, He thought his mother did her son and him an injury in removing him from school ; for he was the most forward boy that ever he taught. Being now about fifteen years of age, and having a mind to be a merchant, and to travel into foreign parts, his mother sent him into France to learn the language before he was an appi'entlce. Froin hence he dates the bosjin- ning and occasion of his future sins and calamities : For going abroad into a world full of snares, with a blind mind, a foolish fancy, and a graceless heart, he was drawn into great evils, of v.'hich he drew up a relation (as he says) to warn others from running into tlie like tempta- tions, and to caution parents against indulging their chil- dren's unreasonable desires. He tarried ii vvliilc at Morlaix, in lower Brittany, and from thence was sent to Fontive, to Mr Ramet, a French minister, wiio taught the tongue to several English youths that boarded v/Ith him. Mr. Trosse having a good me- mory, and some knowledge in the Eatin, within a year spoke French so readily, that they said there was but one Englishman there before who excelled him. Hete an ague seized and held him about nine weeks, by Avhich he was brought very low : But he was secure and stupid, having no serious thoughts of God or ai'Other world. While he continued in this place, Mr. llamet was killed hy a piece of timber, and the rubbish vv'hich fell upon him. Thepapists took advantage from his death to insult his fa- mily, and cry after them when they went abroad, ' The great dog, or the great heretic, is sent to hell.'' Hence also th.eir preacliers took occasion to defame the |n*o(es- tant religion, and prejudice their people against it. When his vear was out he returned to i\[orlaix. There he staid about nine months, and having no em'ploymeni, nor any to rc!)rove him for what he did amiss, he addicted himself to and sec me. — I may say with David, Though ;??y father and my mother fiiTso ,k Mf, iiav, tlioiigli my nurse starved ine, yet lite Ix)irl look me ?i/f. God's thouiht^, are not as our thvughls. nor his li^nys as our itoys — 'J'liis is, O Lord, unconceivable mercy, untitteinble luve, that when I vas ready lo gerish forwaut, thou sliouldest so wonderfully preserve tne." 174 T R 0 S S E. to a vain and ungodly course of life. He met with many enticements to sin, and much fuel for his lusts, and spent a great deal of time and money in tennis-courts and ta- verns, in learning music and dancing. He also frequently drank to excess, for which, when he came to himself, he would be ashamed, and take up resolutions ag.ainst it; But he soon broke them, that he might gratify his sensual in- clinations. Once he vowed never more to drink in a ta- vern : liut, after a little while, to satisfy his conscience and secure himself (as he thought) from the breach of his vow, he put his head out at the window, or went out into a gutter to take off his glass; till at length he forgot his vow, stifled his convictions, and could drink as frequently in taverns, and to as great excess, as ever. When he had been about two years in France, and had spent very extra- vagantly there, he was sent for home : And being much concerned at what account he should give his mother of his extravagant expences, that he might prevent her dis- pleasure, he pretended he had been visited with a very ex- pensive fit of sickness, and that he had been often let blood for it. This was a gross lie, for he never had any blood taken from him there: Yet he often affirmed it, and per- sisted in it several years, without the least temptation to it, or hope of profit by it. All he brought home for so much time and money spent, was, (as he says) " The French tongue, garb, and manners, a little music and dancing, and an initiation into company-keeping." His mother was offended at his gallantry, and ript off the broad gold lace from tlie sleeves of his doublet. After he had lived at home almost a 3^ear, without ap- plying himself to any thing that was good, save only that he read sometimes out of Mr. Smith or Dr. Harris"'s ser- mons to his grandmother, who was confined to her bed : Being now about seventeen years old, he was desirous to be bound apprentice to a merchant beyond tlie seas. This his mother readily agreed to, because she thought it would be the most likely way to get an estate, though there was cause to fear it might prove the ruin of his soul, seeing he had been such a prodigal before, and still continued foolish and fantastical. Upon this occasion he writes thus : " I wish parents, as tliey love the souls of their children, and value their own comfort, would not suffer them to go be- yond the sea till they have ground to believe that a good work is wrought in them, and Gon engaged for their preservation: Or else, that they would commit them to some religious persons there, wiio would conscientiously di.sc!iar<£e TROSSE 175 discharge their duty to them." And, in another manu- script, " If I had ever so many sons, and could have them placed abroad for jnothing, I would sooner sell my shirt from my back to place them herewith an ordinary trades- man, under whom I could expect no 2[reat profit or pre- ferment for them, than send them to the richest merchant in Spain or Portugal." A brother-in-law of his having a near relation in London, whp was a Portuguese merchant, he was sent up thither, with a considerable sum of money, by him to be bound an apprentice to a merclmnt in Por- tugal. All the time he was in London, which was three or four months, he lived in idleness, haunted taverns, gamed, drank, to excess, and still retained and increased his antipathy to the power of godliness, and thejirofessors of it. lie went to a church where the conmion-praver was constantly read, l)eing zealous (to use his own words) " for lie knew not what, and contemning Avhat he ought highly to have loved and honoured ; despising pure wor- ship, and doating on iiuman inventions." Wliile he continued here he was bound to a London merchant, that at his return from Portugal he might claim his freedom, and enjoy the privileges of the city. At length he went on board a ship at Gravesend, bound for Oporto, where he safely arrived in three weeks time, and lived upon trial with one of the chief English merchants in that city. He calls his abode there another sad and sinful period of his life. TJiere he found no other reli- gion but popery : For though the English v.ere not pa- pists, though they did not go to mass, confess to priests, fall down before idols, pray to saints, fetcli the blood from their backs or go in processions and pilgrimages, yet, which was worse, they had no religion at all among them that ever he could see, but were practical atheists. It is true, the protestant religion was not then tolerated, much less were ministers, or any social Vvorship of God permitted. And, as soon as any ship arrived there from a protestant countiy, theincpiisitors demanded all religious books from their owners, sealed them up in a bag, and kept them in I heir convertt till they were ready to depart. Though, after this, Cromwell got liberty for our merchants to pro- fess tlieir own religion, and to have pastors to preacli and administer other ordinances among them, even ia the eye, and under the nose of the inquisition. How- ever, they who adventured their estates and lives to steal custom, and send home bullion, might much more easilv have concealed their Bibles and good books : But thev did 176 T R O S S E. did not care to run any risk for their souls. He says, he did not remember that he ever saw a Bible, or religious book, or one act of solemn worship performed in their house, or heard God named there, but in vain. The Lord's Day was spent iu casting up their books, or in recreations upon the river or abroad in the country. English merchants lived in uncleanness and drunkenness, manifesting less sorrow for tlieir sins, and apprehension of the wrath of God deserved by them, than the popish inhabitants ; and so caused the name of God to be blas- phemed, and hardened the superstitious natives in the prejudices against the protestant religion, as if it was a doctrine of licentiousness, and gave liberty to all sorts of villanies. " I might here (saith he) enlarge upon this very sad subject of the wickedness of our merchants in foreign parts, (as to the greatest number of them) but my design is not to treat of others' lives and miscarriages, but of my own.'" There he still continued profane and irreligious; never but once or twice bowing his knees to God, though he did it to images; symbolizing with papists in their gesture, to avoid their anger. He spent the greatest part of his time idly, scarce ever looking into a history or any other book. He either played at tables, or waited on his master while he v/as playing. He and his fellow-servant found wavs to steal wine, (though they had no need of it, having a handsome allowance) with which they made an old woman, who was the house-keeper, drunk. On the Lord's days he went to taverns, played at shuffle-board or billiards, and went upon the river for his diversion. He ]iad also many temptations to commit fornication, but the o-ood providence of God preserved him from it. Thus he lived in that city a child of Belial, about two years and an half, and might have continued tliere many more, had not God prevented it in this manner: His kinsman at London, with whom an hundred pounds was left, (to be paid to his master in Portugal when he should be bound) refused to pay it there in English money, but gave order to his factor at Oj)orto to pay it in Portuguese money. This his master disliked, and told iiim he would not take him on those terms. He was surprised, as he had reason, and nettled at these words: And being afraid the time he had already served would not be allowed as part of his apprenticeship, he acquainted his master that lie was re- solved to return for England ; who, in displeasure, told him, ' If you will desert my service, you shall pay for your T R d S S E. 177 your diet all the time you have been with me.' 'This he thousjfht hard and unreasonable: But he was in the lion's moutli; therefore he chose rather to take up money of the factor before-mentioned, than to continue at such uncer- tainties. So he paid his master the sum wJiich he de- manded, and left Oporto. From thence he travelled by land, in company with Mr. Robinson, a papist, the proconsul of that city, to Lisbon, where he tarried about three months, while the ship in which he returned was talcing in her lading. In the mean time he went to see the convent of the English Jesuits, wliere he found many young gentlemen of our na- tion recreating themselves, and saw all manner of attrac- tions to sense and fancy. His fellow-traveller, out of a desire to enrich the fathers, advised him to go home, get his portion, and then return and join himself to their so- ciety, that he might live as handsomely and happily as they. But the ship being now I'eady to sail, alter two years and three quarters' stay in Portugal, he went on board, and in six days arrived on the English shore. The vessel was bound for London, but by stress of weather was forced into Plymouth. Upon his return from Portu- gal, he makes the following reflections: " Every day, for many years, upon my knees I have been thanking a wise and gracious God for bringing me thence, and not suffer- ing me to stay there any longer. I might have lived there many years more, got a good estate, and come home rich and flourishing; but then I sliouM have dishonoured Goo all that time, and have brought home infinitely more curses upon my person than crosses in my purse. I siiould have returned with a heart full of pride and lust, and fuel to feed them all my days. But, blessed be God that I tarried there not a day longer. I would not live there now one day, as I lived then months and years, for all the riches in Portugal." He met with very stormy weather in his passage, iDut was unaffected, both with the danger and the mercy of Gou in preserving him, aind bringing him home in safety from a popish country ; nor did he make any suitable returns. The day he landed, wliich was Saturday, he was very drunk. The Lord's Day he went to church, and heard a sermon, but neither by a thought in his mind, nor a bill in the congregation, did he give thanks for his safe arrival ; yea, even on that day he drank to excess. The Monday morning he was so over- come with liquor, that when he was come a little way VOL. IV. N out 178 T R O S S E. out of the town, he fell from his horse, and lay (as he was told) dead drunk in the highway, from whence he was carried away to an ale-house, and put to bed. The next day he got saie to Exeter. While he continued there, which was five or six years, lie lived as bad, or worse than ever. As reason, bodily sti'ength, money, credit, vain companions, &c. increased, so did his crimes. One day he rode with his mother to Feniton, about twelve miles from Exeter. The next morning, contrary to her mind, he returned to the city, and, that he might ingratiate himself with the cavaliers, became surety for one who had been a major in the king*'s army, in a bond of some hundred pounds. After this he drank to excess, yet made a shift to get on horseback in the evening. By the way he fell off" his horse, but got up again, he knew not how, and at length came safe home He reeled into the kitchen, asked his mother's blessing, fell flat on his face before her, and was carried to bed. A servant asked him, whether he was not afraid to lie alone.'' He answered: " I do not fear all the devils in hell, but can go and lie any where at any time." He slept soundly all night, but, the next morning, the folly and danger of his being bound for the major came into bis mind; his brain was disordered, and he was hurried with disquieting thoughts, which ended in distraction and out- rageous madness. He hath given a particular account of his horrid blasphemies, dreadful despair, temptations, and attempts to destroy himself; of the visions, whimsies, confused heap of ridiculous fancies, and nonsensical delu^ sions, (as he calls them) with which his head was filled during his distraction; of his being cured at Glastonbury, his relapses into his old sins, and the return of his trouble and misery, and of his perfect recovery at last. He concludes this account with these words : " Thus I have given a brief narrative of a wicked and wretched life, a life full of daring crimes, and visited with dreadful judgments, till I was about five-and-twenty years old. Though God might then have justly cut me off, and cast me into hell, or have left me to the power of the devil, and the sway of my lusts, to have increased my eternal torments every minute of the remaining ])art of my continuance on earth : Yet such was his infinite good- ness, such his incomparable and unmatchable grace, that here a period was put to my ungodly courses, but not to my days. I believe I may date my beginning to seek af- ter T R O S S E. 179 ter God, and my perseverance in that search till I had found him, from this very time: For though I cannot tell the minister or sermon whereby I was converted, yet, I bless God, I can say, I am wiiat I was not ; I am quite contrary to what I was in the past years of my life, both in judgment, heart, and conversation ; and about this time I began, or at least endeavoured so to be. God was pleased to make use of all the terrors of piy conscience, those dreadful convictions, and tlie lively ajiprehensions I had of the lake of lire and brimstone, to drive me from sin and hell. And, if any one was more eminently instru- mental in my conversion than another, I have still thoiight Mrs. Gollop * was the person." After he had lived at Jiome some time, he rode to Oxford with a nepliew of his brother-in-LiAV. There he met with one of his acquaintance, who so commended an academical life, that he had some inclination to it. This, at his return, he proposed to his mother, who gave her consent, and promised him an handsome allowance. He went thither the latter end of IMay 1657, in the six-and- twentieth year of his age ; entered gentleman commoner in Pembroke College, and remained there seven years, -f- There * '• I rejoice to hear that Mrs. GoUop is with yon. — I am persiiadeJ, nnder God, she has been the prime instnunent both of tht* health of my body, and the salvation of my soul.'' Letter to his Mother, Oxon. October 4, 1658. ■f " While I continued in the university, (iiith he) I lorations, and their own benefices, he consented, and was solemnly set apart to the work of the ministry in Somersetshire, 16G(i. He accuses himself for entering upon the ministry too rashly, not duly considering the weight and import- ance of that glorious and blessed function ; the gifts and graces requisite as due qualifications for it ; and the temp- tations which attend the faithful discharge of it. For above twenty years he preached once a week, and adminis- tered the Lord's Supper every month, in tiie niidst of the most violent persecutions. While King Charles"'s indulgence lasted, which Vt'as about a year and a quarter, he preached in a licensed house ; when that was recalled, he desisted from public preaching on the Lord's Day, and went to church as formerly, yet he continued to preach and administer the sacrament at other times, until the revolution. When King James gave liberty of conscience by his declaration, (April 11, IfiST) he would not preach on the Lord's Day, till the afternoon, when the public worship was ended ; because he suspected a design to weaken and undermine the church of England; and when that was done, the dissenters might easily be crushed. Besides, he thought it a great instance of ar- bitrary government to dispense with the laws of the land, and that it was done in favour of the papists : Therefore, if he had been prosecuted uj)on the act against conven- ticles, he resolved rather to suffer than plead the king's declaration, which he thought contrary to tlie subject's liberty, established by law, and to have a direct tendency to destroy our religion. This his moderation exposed him 182 T R O S S E. him ta the censures and lashes of some on both sides : But he enjoyed peace of conscience, and satisfaction in what he did. In the beginning of King James''s reign, the dissenters in Exeter were obliged to meet very privately, and in small numbers, being narrowly watched by the persecuting partv, who hoped to ingratiate themselves with the court, bv rooting out those whom they called fanatics. About twenty persons, with three aged ministers, of whom Mr. Trosse was the youngest, were met to pray together. A malicious neighbour informed the magistrates, (who were at the mayor's feast) that there was a conventicle. Three of them, attended v»^ith constables, and some of the rabble, searched after, and found out their little meeting. When they had given the ministers hard language, and treated them as if they had been the worst of malefactors, they offered them the Oxford oath, [ ' That it is not lawful, upon any pretence whatsoever, to take up arms against the king, or any commissioned by him. — And that I vpill not at any time endeavour any alteration of govern- ment, either in church or state.'] He declared his reso- lution not to take it ; because under some circumstances, he should swear against his duty. He gave his instances and reasons, to which he received no satisfactory answer. Then he desired leave to put in the word [' Unlawfully"'] ; but they told him. He must take it verbatim, as it was in the act. This he could not do. He pleaded, that the act did not reach him, l>ecause he never had a benefice, nor was he legally convicted of keeping conventicles. However, he and Mr. Gaylard were committed to prison without law. Mr. Dovvne took the oath, and was not imprisoned. Mr. Trosse and Mr. Gaylard found three of the city ministers in the prison on the same account, viz. Mr. John Searle, formerly of Plympton, Mr. Joseph Hallett, and Mr. John Hopping. The justices, not con- tent to make a conventicle of this meeting, indicted the two ministers, and Mr. Crispin, one of their company, for a riot, though there were but four old men, who had but two little walking-staves with them, besides women, and they made no resistance, that they might fine them at their pleasiu'e. To prevent this, they brought a certiorari to remove it to Westminster, upon which the magistrates dropped their prosecution ; for they were ashamed to have such palpable o})pression seen in any court but their own. At the six months' end, he was discharged from his con- finement. T R O S S E. 183 finement, which he esteemed the place of his enlarge- ment : for thn prison was inconceivably better to him than a palace, mv)re comfortable, and more profitable to his soul. He enjoyed his health, follov/ed his studies, and in the night found his meditations upon God more sweet than ever. When dissenting piotestants were permitted and allowed to worship God according to their con- sciences, l)y a law made in the first year of King William and Queen Mary, (commonly called the act of toleration) he again preached publicly in church-time, and so conti- nued tc Ms death. Mr. Trosse had very great abilities, both natural and ac- quired. He was a great reader, but especially of the Holy Scriptures, the analogy of which he preserved in his own mind, and warmly recommended to others. In his ser- mons, he was very plain, persuasive, and methodical ; and was much blessed with success in his ministry. In his duty, he was very exact. He would not baptize privately, but in the congregation. He was also very careful of whom he admitted to the Lord's Supper, suspending dis- orderly walkers from that Sacrament, which he thought belonged ordy to the faithful and approved. He did not chuse to administer it to dying persons, thinking (to use the words of Bishop Burnet) that it was ' a vulgar and fatal error, by which people fancy, if they receive tiie Sa- crament at their death, their peace is made with God: as if it were a passport to heaven.' He was for singing Da\ id's Psalms, and Scripture hymns, and joined with the congregation in the performance of that duty with ni'ich alfection. He would not rise from his seat, or put forth his hand to receive a note, though held up to him, until the singing was ended; much less would he employ himself in reading over such notes as were jjut up, while others were praising God. He dis- liked the use of hymns of private composure in God's public worship. Whereas Mr. Bampfield seemed to be of the opinion, that it would be better to have men's or mi- nisters' own inventions in singing of psalms, than the di- vine inspirations of David, and other authors in Scrij)ture : " When I can believe (saith he) that theirs can be bet- ter tii an those in Scripture; or can be convinced that there is neither psalm nor hymn in the Bible that can fit a present condition, either for prayer, or praise, or grati- tude, &c. I will think so : But as to the former of these two, I hope I shall never believe it; and as to the latter, I think 184 TROSSE. 1 think It Is not likely to fall out in my days." He shewed great reverence in the worship of God, and was displeased with the rudeness and carelessness of others. Though he did not think that one place under the gospel is more holy than another, so as to render ihe service performed in it more acceptable to Gojj, or that bodily reverence is due imto it; yet he thought that while Christians were assem- bled for, and actually engaged in public ordinances, the want of outward reverence betrayed an ill temper of mind. When he did not pray or preach himself, he gave a good example, frequently kneeling in praver, and continuing imcovered as long as any exercises of religion were per- forming, and no longer. He did not love to see any put themselves into lazy and indecent postures, while tiiey were employed in holy things, as if they had no sense of what they were doing, or designed to affront that glorious Majesty with whom they had to do. He behaved himself as a son of peace, and was of a mo- derate healing spirit. His principles and practices were truly catholic : he longed for the union of Christians in those things which are essential to Chx'istifiuity ; bewailed the breaches and divisions which are among protestants, and would have done any thing but sin in order to heal them. He was a happy instrument of maintaining unity and concord in the city where he lived, and of restoring it to other places. For many years before his death there were no considerable differences or animosities among those who belonged to the three united congregations in Exeter, upon whom he bestowed his labours. He heard many dif- ferences, and was often desired to make up breaches, and decide controversies, in which he had good success ; per- sons being generally pleased with his detei'minations. While some, who know not the way of peace, are (as one says) for unchurching, unchristening, and unministering protestants at home and abroad, he owned all such as were united to Christ the head, and did not think that others'* disclaiming us, as if we were not children of the same Fa- ther, would warrant our disowning or rejecting them ; for froward, uncharitable brethren are brethren still. His soul came not into their secret, who, having their hearts inflamed with rash zeal, set the church and the world on fire. To one who wrote, that it was not without a very sensible regret that he was forced to dissent from him, about the new singing, he replied, " You have no more reason to regret your dissent from me, than I have mine from you ; for in all things we cannot agree till we come to know T R O S S E. 185 know as we are known, and to sing our hallelujahs in an everlasting consort, where our voices will never clash, nor shall we any more dispute about, nor trouble one another for the mode of them." This his peaceable temper made Mr. Baxter thus conclude a letter, which he wrote him but a few months before his own death, August 8, l for my God, and to have the heritage of his chosen. And I have heard some of them, who have walked contrary to him, and forsaken him, when they were brouglit to ex- tremities cry out, each for himself, — ' Shame on the way which I have run." The next night, finding some sweat ou his face, he said, " I fancy it is an indication of a greater change. But I know not how it comes to pass, that one, who hath met with so much of God as T have, shoukl be so disingenuous as in the least to doubt him for what is tu H A L Y B U R T O N. 193 to f'ollow. O what an evil heart of unbelief, cursed un- belief, have I .' O how much hath God honoured nie ! O that I should yet have such an enemy in my bosom as an evil heart !" The same night, atler the reudins; to him, at his own desire, of some comforting passages in the word of God, he said, — " Now, tliere it is all. I was under an heavy damp, but God hath delivered me, and filled me with peace : And I hope he will deliver me, even from that which I have feared in death. I hope the God of peace will so bruise Satan under my feet shortly, as that he shall get up no more ; and give me the victory over a cunning world and a deceitful heart. O many a weary day 1 have had with mv unbelief." Oil September li), in the morning, being desired to lie still and try if he could not sleep, he replied, — " Should not I enijdoy the last-remains of my strength to set forth his glory .^''' Then, lifting up his hands, he said, — " Lame hands, and lame legs; (his hands and legs being greatly svv<:?lled) but see a lame man leaping and rejoicing.'''' Find- ing himself, before noon, very weak, he took leave of his wife and cinldren, saluting and speaking particularly to each. His words on this occasion to his wife were, — " A kind and affectionate wife you have been. The Lord bless you ; and he will bless you." After this, having his ser- vants called together, he said to them, — " My dear friends, make religion your main business, and mind that above all things. I charge you all, beware of graceless masters, and endeavour to live with those that fear God.'" He then said, -" Here is a demonstration of the reality and power of faith and godliness. I, a poor, weak, and timorous man, once as much afraid of death as any one ; I, who was many years under the terrors of death, come, in the mercy of God, and by the power of his grace, composed- ly and with joy to look death in the face. I liave seen it in its paleness, and all the circumstances of horror that attend it. I dare look it in the face in its most ghastly shape, ?»nd hope to have, in a little time^ the victory over it."" Some ministers being come to see him, he said to them, among other things, " AVeli, Sirs, what shall we say of the Lord Jesus Christ '■! He is altogether lovely. O study the word. Observe the accomplishment of it. It is the thing I have loved all my days, and it is sweet to the last."" Afterwards, exhorting some to think of death, he said, " To think of death is a profitable thing. But this is not done by going into church-yards, and visiting tombs, but by getting under the impressions of death in VOL. IV. O its 194 H A L Y B U R T O N. its first appearance and cause, and in its different issues and consequences, with a view to both covenants ; that of works, by which it was brought into the world, and that of grace, by which believers are delivered from it."" Soon after, at his own desire, a large writing was read over, whicli he had dictated some days befoi-e, and which con- tained his solemn declaration and testimony in defence of the faith of the gospel, together with advice to his family. This being done, he declared that he had dictated the M'hole, and desired all who were present to remember and attest it. This being by far too long to insert here, 1 must refer the reader to the memoirs of his life. Afterwards, among other things, he said, " I know that a great deal of what is said by a dying man will pass for canting and roving : But, I bless God, he hath so preserved the little judgment I had, that I have been able to reflect with composure on his dealings with r;ie. I am sober and composed, if ever I was sober. And whether men will forbear, or whether they will hear, this is a testimony. Am not I a man wonderfully upheld of God under afflic- tion and death ? The death of the saints is made a deri- sion in our day. But if I am laughed at, I can laugh again; and I think I have most reason. When such peo- ple shall come to my pass, they will not dare to laugh. / 7vill rejoice in mi/ God, and j'oi/ in the God of my salvation, I want death to complete my happiness." September 20. Among ftiany other heavenly and very- affecting things, spoken in the like spirit of faith and joy with those already inserted here, he said to those about him, " You will meet with difficulties and discourage- ments; but tiiis may encourage you, that God owns his servants : And now I find, that he meets them who re- joice and work righteousness : Glory, glory to him. O what of God do I see ! I have never seen any thing like it. The beginning and end, Sirs, of religion are wonder- fully sweet. Mark the perfect man, and behold the iipright, &c. Not that I call myself perfect : The Lord knows I am far from it. I have found corruption stirring since you came in this morning."" After which, a friend having said to him, ' The Lord's dealing with you hath been very- uncommon r He replied, " Uncommon indeed, if you knew all that I know. But in this is the glory of the Lord, that he makes the weak strong ; and so the excel- lency of the power is moi^e plainly seen." Afterwards, " I long for his salvation. I bless his name I have found him HALYBURTON. 195 Kim. I am taken up in blessing him. I am dying, re- joicing in the Lord." September 21, being tlie Lord's Day, he said, " Shall I forget Zion? Nay, kl my right hand forget her cunnings if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy, O^ to have Gon returning to this church, and his work going forward in the world! If all the drops of my blood, all the parti- cles of my body, and all the hairs of ray head were men, they sliould for this go all to the fire. O, Sirs, I could not have believed that I should bear, and bear cheerfully as I have done, this rod which hath lain on me so long. This is a miracle : Pain without pain. And this is not the fancy of a man disordered, but of one who is fullv composed. O blessed be Gou that ever I was born. I have a father and a mother, and ten brethren and sisters in heaven, and I shall be the eleventh. O blessed be the day that ever I was born ! () that I were where he is \ And yet, were God to withdraw from me, I should be as weak as water. All that I enjoy, though it be miracle on miracle, would not support me without fresh suj)plies from God. The thing I rejoice in is this, that God is al- together full, and that in the Mediator Christ Jesus is all the fulness of the Godhead, and it will never run out." September 22. He said, among other things, " I awoke in a sort of carnal frame, and thought I had lost my jewel ; but now I hope he will stand by me to the end. If ever I was of clear judgment and memory in my life, it hath been since he laid his hand on me. AA^hat shall I render to him.'' My bones are tearing through my skin, and yet all my bones are jn^aising him. — Glory to God, that a vile Avorm, the chief of sinners, is singled out to be a monu- ment of his grace and a trumpeter of his praise. — I listened to unbelief since I came to this bed, and it had almost killed me; but God rebuked me, — I sought the victory by prayer, and God gave it me. — He is the hearer of prayer." After struggling with a defluxion in his throat, he said, — " The Lord hath sent another messenger for me to hasten me home."" And some persons present fixing their eyes on him with looks expressive of a wonderful at- tention, he said to them, — " Why look you so stedfastly on me, as if by my might and power I were as I am? jVol I, but the grace of God in me. It is the Spirit of God that supports me." Afterwards he said, — " What cannot grace do.' You see a man dying a monument of the glo- rious power of astonishing grace; and generations to come shall call me blessed. Follow my advice. Study the power of 196 HALYBURTONo of religion. It is the power of religion, and not a name, that will give the comfort I find. There is telling in this providence, and I shall be telling it to eternity. If there be such a glory in his conduct towards me now, what will it be to see the Lamb in the midst of the throne ! The Lamb that was slain in the midst of the throne ! — My peace hath been like a river." To some of his brethren in the ministry he said,—" What a demonstration hath Gou given to you and myself of the immortality of the soul by the vigour of my intellectuals, and the lively ef- forts of my spirit towards God, and the things of God, now when my body is so low and so pained?"" At night he became very weak, and, after a sore struggle, he said, Ebenezer. Some time after which he said, — " When I shall be so weakened as not to be able to speak, I will give vou, if I can, a sign of triumph when I am near to glory."" A good Avhile after, having made some efforts to vomit, he said, " I am effectually choked :" And lifting up his eyes, said, — " Pity, pity, Lord." Then, speaking to his wife and those about him, he said, — " Be not discouraged. The Lord"'s way is the best wav, and I am composed. Whether I go away in a fit of vomiting or fainting, it is all one. — I did not know whether I was up or down."" Soon after, one of those about him having said, — ' You arc now putting your seal to that truth, That g'reat is the gain of godliness :'' He replied, — " Yes, indeed." Then said another, — ' And, I hope, you are encouraging your- self in the Lord."* On which, not being able to speak, he lifted up his hands and clapped them. And quickly after he departed to the land ichere the weary are at rest. His Works. L " The great Concern of Salvation: In three Parts, viz. 1. A Discovery of Man"'s Natural State : Or, The Guilty Sinner Convicted. 2. Man''s Re- covery by Faith in Christ : Or, The Convinced Sinner's Case and Cure. 8. The Christian"'s Duty, with respect to both personal and family Religion. Glasgow, 8vo. 1770. II, Ten Sermons preached before and after the Celebra- tion of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper: To which are added, Two Sermons preached upon occasion of the Death of a Friend, ibid. 2d edit."" To these Discourses is prefixed an excellent Preface by Dr. Watts, highly ex- pressive both of their own worth and of their Author's. There is also another to the same purpose by Mr. Tho- mas Black : And we regret that we cannot insert both of them in our work, as they merit the consideration of every reader. From /At'oriW/nt/ /)niin/ii; . M. H E N R Y. 197 MATTHEW HENRY. J. HE life of this excellent Person is extracted from the large account given of it by Mr. Tong, who was well acquainted with him, as a tel low-minister and friend of his family. IVIr. Matthew Henry was born on the 18th of October 1062, at Broad-Oalc, in the town of Iscoid in Flintshire, within the parish of Malpas,whichis in Cheshire. His father was the eminent Mr. Philip Henry, whose name hath long been very precious, not only in that country, but in most parts of England. His mother was Mrs. Katharine Matthews, daughter and heir of Mr. Daniel Matthews, of Broad-Oak and Brunington, a gentleman of an ancient family and plentiful estate v the whole whereof, in seven years after their marriage, came into Mr. Henry's hands, by the death of their father; and was not only a comfortable subsistence for them, v/hen Mr. Philip Henry was turned out of his living at Worthenburv for noncon- lormity, but enabled him to preach the gospel freely to his dying day, and to afford seasonable relief to many others in necessity, even to a large proportion of his in- come. He was the second son and second child of his parents ; his elder brother John, who was born a year be- fore him, died in his sixth year, of the measles ; he was a child of extraordinaiy pregnancy and forwardness in learning, and of a very good disposition ; his excellent father has left this short memorial of him, Pnetcrqne (Etatem nil puerile fuit. Before he was seized with the dis- temper of which he died, he was much affected with some verses he had met with in Mr. White's book, called ' The Power of Godliness about those that die young ;' these verses are recited in the life of the father, to which I must refer those that desire to know what they were, that made such impressions upon that tender mind. Mr. Matthew Henry was himself sick at the same time with his brother; and of the same disease of which his brother died, he very narrowly escaped death. Goo had a great work for him to do, and spared the tender grape for the blessing that was in it; and a great blessing it has proved to be, to his family, to his friends, and to the church of God. He was but a weakly child, often subject to agues, and other indispositions, which yet were so 19S M. HENRY. so ordered and limited by his heavenly Father, as neither to hurt his great capacity for learning, nor hinder his improvements, even in those early days of his life. He was able to read a chapter in the Bible very distinctly at about three vears old, and with some observation of what he read ; and, indeed, as one of his near relations, and the companion of his younger days, declares, his childish years were sooner over in him than in other per- sons ; he very early put away childish things. When he was ten years old (the time from which he dates his effectual calling) he was visited with a lingering fever, which brought him very low, his life was almost despaired of, and death every day expected ; this was a great trial of the faitli and patience of his good parents. His father, who used to say, ' Weeping must not hinder sowing,' was obliged to go out to a place at some distance to preach the gospel, and left his son very ill, but he must be about his Father's business ; and at that time they had an indulgence granted by the king; at his return, he found matters much as he left them, his son, his only son whom he loved, in extreme danger. There was then at his house a good old gentlewoman, the Avidow of the Reverend Mr. Zachary Thomas, helping and comforting them under this affliction : Mr. Philip Henry told them, ' At such a place and time upon the road, I did most solemnly, freely, ;ind deliberately resign up my dear child unto God, to do Avhat he pleased with him and me. Mrs. Thomas re- plied, ' And I believe, Sir, in that place and time God gave him back to you again:' It is certain, after this he speedily and sensibly recovered. His sister, who gave this account, observed upon it : ' Though I was then but a child of eight years old, and could think but as a child, I was very much affected with that discourse between my father and Mrs. Thomas ; it tended to endear my brother the more to me, since I really believed he was given back to us again in an extraordinary manner. He always had the greatest duty and deference for his parents, and always paid it in a most becoming manner: he laid up their words in his heart ; when he was very young, he would attend with a very uncommon diligence upon his father's preaching, and would often be so affected with it, that as soon as the exercise Avas over, he would liasten to Jiis closet, and there weep and pray over the word, and sometimes would hai'dly be prevailed with to come down to dinner on the Lord's Day, lest the word should slip away from him, or the warm impressions be lost. The M. HENRY. 199 The Reverend Mr. Turner, while he was at Broad-Oak, was partly a tutor to the son, and partly a pupil to the father; he introduced Mr. Matthew Henry into grammar learning, but his father carried him on in it ; it was from his father that he had the greatest advantages of his edu- cation, both in divine and human literature ; under his eye and care he continued, till he was about eighteen years old, growing up in wisdom and goodness, and in favour with God and man. His father neglected no op- portunity to cultivate such a mind : he spared no pains ; and I have some reason to believe, few young ministers are better qualified for that work when they enter upon it, than Mr. Matthew Henry was when he left his father's house ; and it is no disparagement to his after-studies, or to the conduct of those under whose care he was placed, if I venture to say, the helps he had for furnishing himself in the knowledge of things human and divine, in his father's house, contributed more to his fitness lor the ministry, than all the advantages he enjoyed in any other place. He was very expert in the learned languages, and espe- cially in the Hebrew, which had been made familiar to him from his childhood ; he never cared to make any ostentation of it, but he did not fail to make use of it in his study of the Scriptures, which, from his first to his last, was his most delightful employment. Mr. Matthew Henry has told the world in the account of his father's life, how intimate a friendship there was between him and that learned and religious gentleman, Rowland Hunt of Boreatton, Esq. who married lady Frances, daughter to the Lord Paget. To this family Mr. Matthew Henry frequently resorted after he first came down from London, and here he was always very ac- ceptable and welcome. Mr. Hunt was so well apprised of his great capacity for yet further improvements, that he advised his fasher to let him return to London again, and enter himself in one of the inns of court, and spend some time in the study of the law. It was not Mr. Hunt's pur- pose in this, to draw him off from his design of being a minister, but the times were then very dark ; he was young, had time enough before him to mix that with his other studies ; the knowledge of the law would not only be convenient tor one that was heir to an handsome estate, but might be of use for the better understanding the nature of the divine law and government, and the foren- sic terms so much used in the Holy Scriptures, and other divinity books, both ancient and modera. Mr. Hunt's advice 200 M. H E N R Y. advice was approved of both by the father and the son, and accordingly Mr. Matthew Henry went to Gray's Inn towards the latter end of April, in the year 1685. Here he went on in his usual diligence, improviisg his time by close study, and diligent researches into the nature of the divine and human laws ; he loved to look into the body of the civil law, and did not neglect to acquaint hiniself with the municipal laws of his own country; his proficiency was soon observed, and it was the opinion of those that conversed there with him, that his great industry, quick appreliension, good judgment, tenacious Uiemory, and ready utterance, would^have rendered him very eminent in the practice of the law, if he had betaken himself to it as his business ; but he was true to his first and early resolution, and therefore wdiile he was at Gray's Inn, he not only promoted social prayer and religious conference with his particular friends, but would sometimes expound the Scripture to them ; and when he left them, he bade them farewell in an excellent lively discourse from 2 Thes. ii. 1. By the comino; of our Lord Jesus Christ, and our gathering to son, daughter, master, servant, or friend. And he shewed this truth eminently and by a variety of occasions. As to his ministerial labours, surely if ever man fulfilled his mi- nistry since the apostolical age, he was the man ; nobody looks upon his prodigious industry as a common measure, to which all others are obliged to come up ; those that have not the strength of body, freedom and readiness of thought, natural fervour and easiness of expression, can no more come up to his standard, as to the multitude, va- riety, and excellency of ministerial services, than a child can bear a strong man''s burthen. His labours were so many and great, that in order to our taking a particular view of them, it will be necessary to reduce them to their proper heads, of which you may take the following scheme: They were either such as he was conversant in, I. At home among his own people ; and these were either, 1. Constant; as on the Lord's Day, on leeture- days, catechizing on Saturday, and monthly sacraments, conferences, and congregational fasts. Or, 2. Occasional ; and these either, 1. Public, as fasts and thanksgivings; or, 2. Private, on family occasions, visiting the sick, ad- monitions, visiting and preaching to the prisoners at the castle, and reformation sermons. II. Abroad in neighbouring places and congregations ; as lectures in several places, meetings of ministers, or- dinations of ministers, funeral sermons for ministers and others, and yearly journies to visit the churches. We must begin with the ministerial labours he performed at home among his own people ; for though his soul was too large to be confined to them, yet he was very sensible they had the best title to his services, and he never would injure them to supply other churches. His constant work on the Lord's Day at Chester, was to pray six times in public, to sing six times, to expound twice and preach twice ; and this he did for many years together. His method was, after having worshipped Gon in his family, in the manner that has been already men- tioned, he went to the congregation exactly at nine of the clock, began the public worship with singing the 100th Psalm, then prayed a short but fervent and suitable prayer, then he read some part of the Old Testament, and ex- pounded it, going through it in course from the beginning to the end, then he sung another Psalm, then lie prayed for about half an hour, then he preached about an hour, then prayed and sung usually the UTth Psalm, and then gave M. HENRY. ' 207 gave the blessing; he did the same exactly In the afternoon, only then expounded out of the New Testament, and sung at the end the IS^th Psalm, or some verses of the lS(ith; this Was his constant Lord's Day's work. In singing, he always made use of David's Psalms, or other Scripture hymns ; he collected a set of them, such as he tliought most useful and edifying, and digested them under proper titles, according to the occasions to which tiiey were adapted. He preferred Scripture psalms and hynms far be- fore those that are wholly of human composure, which are generally liable to this exception, that the fancy is too high, and the matter too low, and sometimes such as a wise and good man may not be able with entire satisfaction to offer up as a sacrifice to Goo. In this work of praise he took great delight; one might easily discern how his soul was upon the wing, it was a part of worship for which his soul was particularly formed, being himself of an af- fectionate, cheerful, thankl'ul temper. In prayer, his gifts and graces eminently appeared, he had a wonderful faculty of engaging the attention, and raising the affections of his assembly ; in his second prayer, he was always copious, though never tedious ; he was very full in confession of sin, and very tender and humble, aggravating the evil and guilt of it in a very clear and convincing manner; his prayer was always suited to the state of the congregation, to the season, to the state of the nation, and of the church of God ; in supplication for mercy he was very earnest and particular, pleading the name, and sufferings, and media- tion of the Lord Jesus Christ for pardon and peace; he was large and full in praying for grace, and used to mention the particular graces of the Holy Spirit, as faith, love, hope, patience, zeal, deligiit in God, earnestly begging that these graces might be truly wrought in all, and might be j)reserved, exercised, increased, and evidenced to the glory of the God of all grace. In his requests for the nation, he was constant and earnest; many a time has he wrestled with God in the pulpit for the land of his nati- vity, and herein he exj)ressed liimself with humility, meek- ness and wisdom, carefully avoiding wliatever might appear disrespectful to our governors ; and tiiough he knew not how to give flattering titles, lest his God should cut him off, yet his prayers for those in autliority discovered the reverence he had for the government, as the ordinance of God, and lor those that God had invested with it; all seditious, saucy reflections upon the ruler of the people, how artfully soever couched, he utterly disliked in com- aiion 20S M. HENRY. mon conversation, and therefore could never be guilty of profaning the worship of God with them. The exposition of the Scriptures was a very pleasant part of his work, both in his own house and in the house of God ; what his expositions were from the pulpit may be gathered by what they appear to be from the press : his father's example led him to take delight in tliis part of his work, and made it easy to him; and while some commen- tators take a' great deal of pains to make plain things dark, his endeavour ab.vays was to make dark things plain, and not only plain, but moving and practical. He kept very close and constant to his business of expounding, and never omitted it, even on a sacrament day ; in the time he was at Chester, he went through the whole Bible more than once, and by this means his people have been observed to excel in theiracquaintance with the Holy Scriptures. How great a talent he had in preaching, the world is not igno- rant, so many of his sermons being published, and spread far and wide ; he was very happy in the choice of his sub- jects : there could no occasion happen, either public or private, but as he was ever ready to preach upon it, so he had always an apposite text to preach upon, being a scribe well instructed in the kingdom of God ; he had a treasure out of which he could easily bring things new and old. His preaching was truly evangelical, spiritual, and practi- cal; he shunned not to declare the whole counsel of God; he loved to preach of Christ, and in his diary often de- clares, " He was best pleased when he was upon that sweet subject.*" Having preached concerning Christ as our pass- over, and his blood sprinkled upon the saints as their safe- ty, November 20, 1690, he has this remark : " It is most pleasant to me to be preaching Christ ,-" and afterwards, *' I am most in my element when I am preaching Christ and him crucified ;''"' and he loved that others should preach Christ; in the year 1709, May 1, he has recorded it, '• This day Mr. Basnet preached Gal. iv. 5. God sent forth his Son : he preached much of Christ, whom I love to hear of" And February 12, 1710, having expounded five of Solomon's Songs, he adds, " The more I think and speak of Christ, the more reason I see to love him." But he thought it also necessary to preach up holiness, and did constantly affirm it as a faithful saying, That thei/ that be- lieve on God should be careful to maintain good works ; this saying he knew was as faithful in its place, as that' Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners ; both of them are faithful sayings, not only true in themselves, but such as ministers M. H E N R Y. ' 209 ministers are bound in faithfulness to insist upon in their preaching, such preaching isjaithful preaching: a faithful saying. Another part of his constant work among his peojiie was that of catechizing; in this also he took great pleasure, be- ing full of aflection and compassion for the souls of young people : Christ's charge to Peter, to feed the lambs as well as the sheep, he had much at heart, and it was often in his moutli : He knew by experience the benefit of this Christian institution, his goodfather both abounded and excelled in it, as well in his family as in the congregation. Saturday, in the afternoon, was the time set apart for this work, beginning and ending with prayer, in whicii his expressions were very plain a^d very tender, suited to the nature of the ordinance and to the capacity of young persons; in this exercise he usually spent about an hour ; it was attended by others be- sides the catechumens, and esteemed by them a good means of preparation for the Lord's Day. In this work of cate- chizing he was remarkably owned and blessed of Goo ; he longed for the conversion of young people, and had the desire of his soul, in seeing the good work begun in many of his catecliumens; of these he always spoke with a par- ticular respect; and when any, of whom he had entertain- ed good hopes, grew loose and vain, (and notwithstanding all his care and pains, there were some such) he sadly la- mented their sin, and his disappointment in them, and ceased not to pray earnestly to God for them, " That he would recover them out of the snare of the devil, before their hearts were hardened with the deceitful ness of sin." Visiting the sick he took to be an essential part of his mi- nistry, and he was very diligent in it, never refusing to go either to rich or poor, when sent for, unless hindered by invincible necessity; in this he did not confine his visits to those of his own congregation, or of his own opinion ; he was often sent for to visit those in communion with the established church, and to strangers, travellers, and passen- gers to or from Ireland, and he readily comi)Hed, and did indeed abound in this part of his work, which to many tempers has something in it very difficult and disagreeable. We have a very unconunon instance of his diligence, and zeal, and love to souls, in the frequent compassionate visits that he made to the poor prisoners, and even to the malefac- tors in the castle at Chester, to pray witli them and preach to them, both before and after their trial and condemnation. Another sort of ministerial service in wliich ]\Ir. Henry- was engaged at Chester, was preaching reformation ser- VOL. IV. P mens ; 210 M. HENRY. mons : It pleased God several years ago to stir up the hearts of many good people of several denominations, to endeavour the giving a check to that immorality and pro- faneness that had proceeded so far, and prevailed so long in England; against this encroaching enemy, London made the first stand, and their example encouraged many others both in England and Ireland too. We are yet to behold him in a more large and extensive sphere of usefulness, not to the neglect or prejudice of his own place and people, for he was so constant to them, that he has observed in his Diary, on June 3, 1711, being then at London, " That it was the first time he had been absent from Chester on the first day of the month, the Sa- crament day, for this twenty-four years.^' But though his own flock were not neglected, yet he could not con- fine his services to them ; he had a just care for all the churches, and especially those that were within his line ; I mean, such as he could visit and return home at the week's end; he took a circuit of near thirty miles, and frequently lent his assistance to the dissenting ministers and churches that were in that compass, and he was always thankfully received by them. Those that put together the various parts of Mr. Henry'^s labours, and consider that, besides what has been mentioned, he spent a great deal of time and pains in composing his Expositions and other writings for the press, will surely be desirous to know what method he took, and what means he used to main- tain and keep up so much life and industry for so many years, and to go on so unweariedly in hi^ Master's work; Among other things that contributed to this his uncom- mon zeal and diligence, I shall mention a few, which all that know him could not but observe, and which the papers he has left behind him very amply testify; I mean his great value for time, his prayerfulness, observation, and frequent renewings of his covenants with God ; by these means he was not only kept close to his work, but greatly encouraged and strengthened in it. In the year 1699, God called up the learned and every way excel- lent Dr. Bates to the spirits of just men made perfect : Hackney had for many years been happy in his ministry. As we have observed in his life, the Doctor might have liad almost any preferment, could he have conformed to the established church. Upon his death, the first person that was thought fit to succeed him was Mr. Matthew Henry ; it was unanimously agreed that an invitation should be given him, and Mr. Shower was desired M. 11 E N R Y. 211 desired to prepare him for it by a letter, which he did, urging him with great affection and respect to hearken to it ; he returned his answer to Mr. Shower tlie yery next post, in which he wholly declined it, and desired no fur- ther solicitation might be made to him about it ; and in his Diary he avers, tliat the stress of his refusal was truly laid upon his great affection for the })eopIe at Chester. The congregation at Hackney did not immediately desist from what their hearts were much set upon, but them- selves sent up a letter of invitation in very pressing terms, which in a few days time Mi\ Henry answered with great respect, but plainly and fully in the negative, which I think put an end to all fui ther importunity on their part. The peremptory refusal that Mr. Henry had given to the congregration at Hackney, discouraged that of Salter's Hall from making any attempts of that nature, and Mr. Chorley of Norwich was chosen, but he declined it; and there being still some disputes among them about the choice of another, it was proposed to them to give Mr. Henry an invitation; and accordingly letters wei'e written to him by Mr. Howe, Mr. Williams, and Dr. Hamilton, urging this among otiier arguments, That there being some contests, both sides would agree in him. Dut he still declined it. But upon the death of Mr. Billio in 1710, the congre- gation at Hackney renewed their importunities so forci- bly, that, thinking it a proper call, and wishing too for the advantage of superintending his great work then in the press, he at length complied, ar.d removed from Chester thither in May 1711. His Lord's Day's work he managed at Hackney in the same method as he had done at Chester, only, that instead of beginning with the lOOth Psalm, he began with a short prayer; for the rest the order was the same. Though his natural strength was abated and dis- tempers growing upon him, yet he abated nothing of his wonted zeal and diligence, either on the Lord's Day or lecture days, in expounding, preaching, or catechizing ; he kept his usual hour of beginning public worship, and though it was earlier than the congregation at Hackney had been accustomed to come together, yet he was j)uuc- tual to the time, and they soon came to it, and that with- (uit reluctaucy, and were many of them well pleased with it; autl thus he did in the afternoon as well as in the morn- ing. He made it plainly to appear he sought not his ease and pleasure in coming up to London; here was a large (ield of service, and he had a large heart, and on that ac- count 212 M. HENRY. count the place suited him very well; he has more than once preached the Lord's Day morning lecture at Little St. Helens, and then returned to Hackney, and preached and expounded as usual both parts of the day there; some- times, after having preached morning and evening at Hack- ney, he has gone to JvL . Lloyd's meeting-house in Wap- ping, to the charity-school at Shakespeare's Walk, and sometimes over the water to HedrifF, and preached the evening lecture, and returned home, and gone through the several parts of family worship as usual. We come now to the close of this valuable life. In Ivlay 1714, he made a visit to his old friends in Cheshire, and towards the end of the next month, as he was upon his return to London, he was taken ill at Nantwich. His old intimate friend (says Mr. Tong) Mr. Illidge,was then with him, and had been desired by the Honourable Sir Thomas Delves and his lady to invite him to Doddington, and he had fully intended to have waited on them, and their stew- ard was there, with Mr. Illidge, to have conducted him to a house that has been famed for impartial and disinterest- ed religion, and I hope will be ever so, but he was not able to proceed any further ; he went to bed at Mr. Matter- shed's house, and said to his friends, " Pray for me, for now 1 cannot pray for myself." When they were putting him to bed, he spoke of the excellency of spiritual com- forts in a time of need, and blest God that he had those comforts : He had said to Mr. Illidge, you have been used to take notice of the sayings of dying men ; this is mine, " That a life spent in the service of God and communion with him, is the most comfortable and pleasant life that any one can live in tliis world." He had but a restless night ; about five of the clock in the morning he was seiz- ed with what the doctors agreed to be an apoplectic fit ; he lay speechless with his eyes fixed, and about eight of the clock on Tuesday morning, June 2"^, he breathed out his precious soul into the hands of Christ, in the 52d year of his age. The physicians could not impute his death to a fall he had some time before received, from which he had all along said he felt no ill consequence. Though Mr. I7tnry''s constitution was very healthful and strong, yet there is a great deal of reason to believe he put too much trust in it, and that not only by his frequent and fer- vent preaching, in which lie used to sweat profusely, but chiefly by his sitting so long together in his study, and writing so much ; this stopped the due circulation of the blood and spirits, and caused an obesity of body and flush- i"» M. HENRY. 213 ing in his face ; but his study was more to him than the palaces of princes, and his work was his most pleasant recreation. His Works. " I. A small Discourse concerning the Nature of Schism, 1C89. II. His Father's Life, 1696. III. A Discourse about Meekness and Quietness of Spirit, on 1 Pet. iii. 4. to which is added, A Sermon preached#at Mr. Howe's Meeting-house in London, 1698. IV. A Scripture Catechism, 1702. V. Family Hymns, gathered most out of David's Psalms, and all out of the inspired writings, 1702. VI. A plain Catechism for Children. VII. A Sermon concerning the right Management of friendly visits; preached at Mr. Howe's meeting in London, 170i. VIII. A Church in the House, preached at ]\Ir. Shower's meeting, and published at the request of the con- gregation, 1701. IX. The Communicant's Companion : or, Instructions and Helps for the right receiving of the Lord's Supper, 1704. X. Four Discourses against Vice and Immorality, viz. 1. Against Drunkenness. 2. Against Uncleanness. 3. Against Sabbath-breaking. 4. Against Pi'o- fane Speaking, 1705. XL Great Britain's present Hopes and Joys opened, in two sermons ; the former on the na- tional thanksgiving day, December 31, 1700, tlie latter the day following, being New-year's day. Psalm Ixv. 11. XII. Two Funeral Sermons, one on Dr. Samuel Benyon, the other on the Rev. Mr. Francis Tallents, ministers of the gospel in Shrewsbury, with an account of their lives, 1709. XIII. A Method for Prayer, with Scrip- ture Expressions proper to be used under each head, 1710. XI V^ A Sermon concerning the AVork and Suc- cess of the Ministry, 1710. XV. Disputes Reviewed : a sermon pi'eached at the evening lecture on the Lord's Day, from Mark ix. 33, 1710. XVl. Faith in Christ inferred from Faith in God : a sermon preached on the Tues- day's lecture at Salter's Hall, from John xiv. 1, 1711. XVII. A Sermon concerning the Forgiveness of Sin as a Debt, on Mattii. vi. 12, 1711. XVIII. Hope and Fear balanced, in a lecture at Salter's Hall, July 24, 1711. XIX. A Sermon preached at the Funeral of Mr. Samuel Lawrence, minister of the gospel at Nantwich in Cheshire, on Phil. ii. 27, 1712. XX. A Sermon preached at Salter's Hall, to the Societies for the Reformation of Man- ners, June 30, 1712. XXI. A Sermon preached at Haberdasher's Hall, on the Occasion of the Death of the Reverend IMr. Richard Stretton, July 13, 1712. XXII. Directions for Daily Communion Avitli Gon, in three Sermons, 214 S H O W E K. Sermons : shewing how to begin, how lo spend, and hov/ to close every day Avith God, Sept. 8, 1712. XXIII., An Exhortation at the close of the Ordination of Mr, Samuel Clark at 8t. Alban's, Sept. 17, 1712. XXIV. Po- pery a Spiritual Tyranny, shewed in a Sermon preached on Nov. 5, 1712. XXV. A Sermon preached at the Ordination of Mr. Atkinson, Jan. 27, 1713. XXVI. A Sermon preached on Occasion of the Funeral of the Reverend Mr. Daniel Burgess, Feb. 3, 1713. XXVIE Christ's Favour to little Children opened and improved, in a Sermon preached at the public baptizing of a child in London, on Mark x. 16. March 6, 1713. XXVIII, A Sermon concerning the Catechizing of Youth, preached to Mr. Harris's Catechumens, April 7, 1713. XXIX. Self-Consideration necessary to Self-Freservation ; or. The Folly of despising our own Souls and our ov/n Ways, opened in two sermons to young people, June 14, 1713. XXX. Sober-mindedness pressed upon young People ; preached at the catechistical lecture at Mr. Wilcox''s meet- ing-place, and printed at the desire of many of the Cate- chum.ens, most of them being ministers' sons, Sept. 2, 1713. XXXI. A Memorial of the Fire of the Lord, in a sermon preached Sept. 2, 1713, on Numb. xi. 3, being the day of remembrance of the burning of London, at Mr. Reynolds' meeting-house. XXXI I. The Pleasant- ness of a religious life, opened, proved, and recom- mended to the consideration of all, and particularly of young people. May 21, 1714. XXXIII. His Expositions of the Bible ; in which he has gone through the Old Testa- ment in four large volumes folio, and through the Evange- lists and the Acts of the Apostles in a fifth ; and was fully bent, if God had spared his life, to have finished the whole in another volume, but in that death has prevented him. XXXIV. An Account of the Life and Death of Lieutenant Illidge, father to Mr. George Illidge of Nant- wichj Mr. Henry's very particular friend." JOHN SHOWER. T] HIS valuable and gracious minister was born in the city of Exeter, and baptized on the 18th of May 1657. His father was a man of great piety and liberality to the poor, thinking money so expended, to be laid out with SHOWER. 215 vTith surety beyond any other. In this he was of the same mind with a wealthy merchant, who, having lost by one shipwreck to the value of £ 1500, ordered his clerk to dis- tribute of 100 among poor ministers and people, adding, that ' if his fortune were going by =C1500 at a lump, it was high time to make sure some part of it, before it was gone."* This was in the last century : And tiiere is a distinguished merchant, for the honour of the gospel, to be found in the present^ whose public and private benevolences prove, that he has tiie happy art of laying out his money to the l)est advantage, and that, by lending to the Lord, no diminution has occuri'ed to his stock, and much less to the peace of his mind. Mr. Shower''s mother was also an ex- cellent woman, and a great blessing to her family. Pie lost his father in 1601, who left a decent estate to his widow and four sous. Mr. Bradford of Exon was his schoolmaster there ; but, at fourteen, he was sent to Mr. Warren of Taunton, who kept a private academy for qualifying young men for the ministry. After a considerable time, he and his mo- ther removed to London, for the advantage of Mr. Morton's tuition, who was (it is said) a polite and profound scholar. Plere he made great proficiency, insomuch that Dr. Manton, as well as his tutor, encouraged him, before he was quite twenty, to prepare himself as a candidate for the ministry. Mr. Timothy Rogers, his intimate friend and fellow-labourer, assured Mr. Tong, to whom we are chiefly indebted for this account, that his first sermon was preached in the year 1677, on Psalm cxix. 30. Having mentioned Mr. Rogers, I cannot help giving my readers a most remarkable providence, which occurred to his fa- ther, who was minister at Croglia, in Cumberland, in the days of King Charles II. But as it is somewhat long, I will refer it to a note, that I may not interrupt my narration. * In * The late Mr. Thomas Bradbury dined one day at the bouse of Mrs. Tooly. an eminent Christian lady in London, who was fimous in her day for the love she bore to Christ, and to all his servants and peo- ple. Her house and table were open to them all, being another Lydia in that respect. Mr. Timothy Rogers, who wrote the book on Reli- gious Melancholy, and was himself many years under that distemper, dined there the same day wiih Mr. I>radbury ; and, after dinner, he entertaini d Mrs. Tooly and him with some stories concerning his fa- ther, who was one of the ejected ministers in the year lOGS, and the sufferings he underwent on account of his nonconformity. Mr. Rogers particularly related one anecdote, that he had often heard his father, witli 21(> SHOW E It. In the year 1678, when tlie kingdom was alarmed with the popish plot, it was thought necessary, in conjunction withDrs. Stillingfleet, Tiliotson, Burnet, and many others of the established church, that the dissenting ministers should warn the nation against the Romish superstition. Mr. Shower was one of the ministers who supported that design. ■with a good deal of pleasure, tell to himself and others, ooncerning a deliverance which he had from being sent to (irison, after his tnilti' mus was wiitien oiit for that purpose. He lived near the bouse of one Sir Richard Cradock, a justice of the peace, who was a most vio- lent persecutor, and laid out himself to distress serious dissenters by all the means which the severe laws then in being put in his power, par* ticularly hy enforcing the statute against conventicles. He bore a great hatred to Mr. Rogers, and wanted above all things to have him in his power ; and a fair opportunity, as he thought, ofiered itself to him : IJe heard that Mr. Rogers was to preach at a place some miles /listant ; and he hired two men to go as spies, who were to tnke the iiames of several hearers they knew, and to witness against Mr. Rogers and them. The thing succeeded to his wish: They brought the names of several persons who were hearers on that occasion; and Sir Richard sent and warned such of them as he had a particular spite at, and Mr. Rogers, to appear before him. Accordingly, they all came, with trembling heart?, expecting the worst, for they knew the vio- lence of tlie man. While thef were in his great hall, expecting to be called upon, there came into the hall a little girl, a grandchild of Sir Richard's, about six or seven years of age. She looked at Mr. Fogers, and was much taken with his venerable appearance; and he, being naturally fond of children, took her on bis knee, and made a great deal cif her, and she grew fond of him. At last Sir Richard sent one of his servants to int'orm the com|>any, that one of the wit- nesses was fallen sick, and could not be present that day, and there- fore warned them to come on another day, which he then named to them. Accordingly they came; and the crime, as the justice called it, was proved. He ordered their millimiis to be written, to send them all to jail. Mr. Rogers, before he came, expecting to see the little girl again, had brought some sweetmeats to give her : And he was not disappointed ; for she came running to him, and was fonder of him than she liad been the day before. She was, it seems, a par- ticular favourite of her grandfather's, and had got such an ascendency over hhn, that he could deny her nothing. She was withal a child of a violent spirit, and could bear no contradiction, as she was in- flulged in every thing. Once, it seem-, when she was contradicted in something, she run a penknife into her arm, that had almost cost her cither her life, or the lo>s of her arm. After which, Sir Richarti would not sufftr her to be contradicted in any thing. While she was sitting on Mr. Rogers' knee, and eating the sweetmeats which he pave her, she looked wishfully on him, and sai<1, ' What are you here f'T, Sir?' He answered, ' I believe your grandfather is going to send me and my friends, whom you «ee here, to jail.' — ' To jail !' says she, * why? what have you done?' — * I did nothing but preach at such a place; and they did nothing but hear uie.' — Says she, ' My grandpapa sha'nt send yo!i to jail.' — ' Ay, but, my dear,' said he, ' I believe lie is now making out our m'lltimiis, to send us all there.' She ran immediately to the chamber where her grandfather was, and I;nocked with her hands and heels, till s!ie got in; and said, ' What , ~ a-t. SHOWER. 217 design. He afterwards assisted the famous and witty- Mr. Alsop, author of Anti-Sozzo : And, in the year 1683, he accompanied Sir Samuel liarnardiston, at the desire of his uncle, in his travels to tiie Continent. With him and others, he had the pleasure of seeing Geneva, several parts of France and Italy, and of passing home- wards are you going to do with my good old gentleman in the hall ? — ' Thai's nothinj* to you,' said her grandfather; ' get you about your business.' — ' But I won't,' said she; ' he tells me, that you are going to send him and his friends to jail ; and if you send them, I'll rirown myself in the pond as soon as they are gone. — I will, indeed.' When he saw the girl was resolute and peremptory, it shook liim, and over- came the wicked design he had formed to persecute these innocent men. He stepped into the hall, with the miltimiis in his hand, and said, ' I had here made out your mitlimus, to send you all to prison, as you deserve; but, at my grandchild's request, 1 let fall the pro- secution, and set you all at liberty.' They ail bowed, and thanked him. After which, JMr. Rogers stepped up to the child, nntl laid his hand ujjon her head; and, lilting up his eyes to heaven, he said, ' d'oD bless you, my dear child : May the blessing of that God, whose cause you now did plead, though as yet you know him not, be upon you in life, at death, and througiiout eternity.' — And then he and his friends went away. Mrs. Tooly listened, with uncommon attention, to the story; and, looking on Mr. Rogers, said, ' And are you that Mr. Rogers's son?' — ' Yes, Madam,' answered he, ' i am.' — ' Well,' said she, ' as long as I have been acquainted with you, I never knew that before. And now I will tell you something which you never knew before: I am the very person your dear father blessed in the manner you now related: It made such an impression on me, as 1 could never forget.' Upon this double discovery, Mrs. Tooly and Mr. Rogers found they liad a superadded tie of Christian regard to each other, beyond ■what they had hclore. And then be and Mr. Bradbury were desir- ous to know how she, who had been bred up with an aversion to real religion, was now so eminent for it ? She complied with their request, and very freely told them her story. She said, that, nfter her grandfather's death, she was left sole heiress of his great estate: And, being in the bloom of youth, and having none to controul her, she ran after all the fashionable diversions of the time in which she lived, without any manner of restraint. But, at the same time, she confessed, that at the end of them all, she found a dissatisfaction both with herself and them, that always struck a damp to her heart, whifh she did not know how to get rid of, but by rimning the same fruitless round over and over again; but all in vain: She contract- ed some slight illness, upon which she thought she would go to BatI), as hearing that that was a place for pleasure as well as health* When she came thither, she was led in providence to consult an apothecary, who was a religious man. He inquired, what ailed her? ' Why,' says she, ' Doctor, I don't ail nmch as to my body; but I have an uneasy mind, which I can't get rid of.'—' Truly,' said he, ' Miss, I was so too, till 1 met with a book that cured me of it.' — ' Books!' said she; ' I get all the hooks 1 can lay my hands on: All the plays, novels, and romances I can hear of: But, after 1 have read them, my uneasiness is the same.' — ' That maybe,' said he: '1 don't wonder at it. But this book I speak of, J can say of it v.hat 1 can say of no flther I ever read; I i^cver tire of nS SHOWER. wards by the way of Germany and Holland. Mr. Tong's account of this peregrination is equally pious and enter- taining; and it shews how tiifferently men travel with the fear of Gou before their ejes, from those who go out without principles, and return only with bad prac- tices. of reading: if, but can be^in to read it again, aor's own words, es- teeming it a very entertaining part of his personal history. " The late Dr. Payne, as Mr. Whiston saith, (for 1 think they botli joined in the question) having asked me, whether the Holy Spirit was addressed to iu the puldic prayers of the primitive church ?' I answcrfid, ' That if they had ever read the works of St. Basil the Giea., they would have found a satisfactory answer to their question; for that he bad written a large discourse on that very subject, in wbich he not only supposes that all llieir public prayers were directed to the Father by the interces- sion of tlie Son in the Holy Spirit, but proves likewise, that the Deity of the Spirit was generally supposed by the church, in tiiat foim, though it was not formally directed to him alone.' I advised him to read that piece of St. B.'isil, who had a natural occasion of examining this matter, by the complaint which was made against him, that in the. doxology he used indifferently these words: Glory be lo the Father, iv'ith the Son, and in, or with ike Holy Ghost. And indeed, St. Basil, writing near fifty years after the rise of Arianism, (which gave the hint to Ma- cedonius, Bishop of Constantinople, to deny tlie divinity of the Holy Ghost, and to do all he could to support his beresy) had solidly defended the sense of the primitive church, in all times and places, concerninfj the Deity of the Holy Spirit, and confuted all the arguments of the Macedonians. This is the substance of that conversation ; and, I am sure, the divines and ministers who were there, and then present, lit- tle thought I had therein given any occasion for such a charge as Mr, Whiston has row, at the distance of twelve or thirteen years, publicly brought against me. He has given me, indeed, the title of the very learned doctor, &c. But, as he doubtless has his reasons for what he does, I suppose he might design at the same time, that it should, serve for the justification uf himself. Tinieo Danaos el Dona fererita:. Some months ago, one of Mr. Whiston's friends told me he had heard from Mr. Whiston, such an account of that conversation as he has since printed. I then told the gentleman the whole truth of the matter, and vyhat then passed between us: But I thought it of so little im- portance, that though Mr. Whiston came afterwards to visit me, in com- pany with some friends of his, I did not think it necessary to take any notice of it, after the explanation I had given his friends, and which jn all ptobabilil)' came lo his ears; espficially, since I could not have done it without blaming him for his incivility, in making his own use of what I had said, by chnngiug the state of the question, and sup- pressing a part of my answer : An incivility so much the greater, be- cause r had referred them to St. lOasil's book, De Spirilu Sanclo, for an account of my sentiniciits about the question they proposed. I have had several opportiif.ities of conversing with Mr. Whiston, and I am satis- tied he never looked upon me, as one who inclined in thg least to his opinions. I thought him a studious man, and had a respect for him as such; and he will do me the justice to acknowledge, that I always spike my mind to him veiy freely and sincerely; but that I never ap- proved of the liberties he took, which indeed «ere more tlum could he well borue with." A L L I X. 22^ wot only all the erudition, but all the quickness and viva- city that appeared in his earliest pieces. Those who knew him found the same pleasure in his conversation, that the learned will always find in his productions ; for, with a prodigious share of learning, he had a wonderful liveliness of temper, and expressed himself on the driest subjects with so much sprightliness, and in a manner so out of the common road, that it was impossible to flag or lose one's attention to what was the subject of his discourse. He was consulted by the greatest men of his age, on the deepest and most intricate parts of learning, and was ac- knowledged for a geniusofthefirst order by those whom the world have esteemed, not only the most capable but the most unbiassed critics. It was not any single branch of literature, or a few related to each other, that could oc- cupy his thoughts, but the whole circle of sciences whicli fall under the cognizance of a general scholar, and sound divine. All these he had not only tasted but digested, as appears by his excellence in different, and almost opposite studies. His sermons shew him to liave been an admirable orator, and at the same time a profound scholar. The several ancient authors he published testify his skill in cri- ticism, and his peifect acquaintance with antiquity. His treatises on ecclesiastical history discover a prodigious fund of reading, an exact comprehension of his subject, and his sincere zeal for the protestant religion. He la- boured also to serve it by the tracts he rescued from dust and oblivion, to shew (as they effectually did) that the charge of novelty, on which the papists insisted so loudly, was not barely unreasonable, but at the same time groundless. His thorough acquaintance with Hebrew and Rab- binical learning, with whatever depends thereupon in Greek and other languages, was displayed in his laborious performance in defence of the doctrine of the Trinity, in which his sincerity is as conspicuous as his learning. If in the prosecution of some deep and recondite studies, he sometimes mistook his way, and erred a little in his chro- nological computations, it was no more than had befallen the greatest men who had travelled this road before him, particularly Joseph Mede, and Bishop Lloyd; neither have these examples convinced other ornaments of the common- wealth of letters, that the roads are impassable, since the very learned Dean Prideaux,and the indefatigable Sir Isaac Newton, have devoted many of their hours to like in- quiries. Our Author continued his application to the last, and having spun out the thread to an extraordinary VOL. IV. Q extent, 226 A L L I X. extent, died at London, February 21, 1717, in the seven- ty-sixth year of his age, leaving behind him the reputa- tion of a man equally assiduous in the right discharge of all the offices of jsublic and private life, and every way as amiable for his virtues and social qualities, as venerable from his uprightness and integrity, and famous for his various and profound learning. His Works. " I. Response a la Dissertation sur Bertram et Jean Scot, ou Erigene qui est a. la fin du premier Tome de la Perpetuite de M. Arnaud : i. e. An Answer to a Dissertation on Bertram and John Scot, which is at the end of the Perpetuity of the Faith, by Mr. Arnaud. II. Ratramne, ou Bertrand, Pretre, du Corps et du Sang du Seigneur, en Latin et en Francois. Rouen, 1672. 12mo. i. e. Ratramn, or Bertrand the Priest, on the Body and !Blood of our Lord, in Latin and French. III. Dissertatio de Trisagii oi'igine. Autore P. A. V. D. M. (Petro Allix Verbi Dei Ministro) Rothomagi, 1674, 8vo. t. e. A Disser- tation on the first Rise of the Trisagium or Doxology ; by Peter Allix, &c. IV. Dissertatio de Sanguine D. N. J. C. ad Epistolam S. Augustini qua num adhuc existat inquiritur, 8vo. i. e. A Dissertation on the Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, &c. V. Dissertatio de Tertulliani vita et scriptis, 8vo. i. e. A Dissertation on the life and writ- ings of Tertullian. VI. Dissertatio de Conciliorum quo- rumvis definitionibus ad exanien revocandis, 8vo. VII. A- nastasii Sinaitse anagogicarum contemplationum in Hexa- hemeron, liber xii. hactenus desideratus, Greece et Latine, ex versione et cum notis Andreoe Dacerii. Prsemissa exr postulatio de S. Joannis Chrysostomi Epistola ad Caesa- rium a Parisiensibus Theologis nuper suppressa. Londini, 1682, 4to. I. e. Anastasius his twelfth book of contempla- tions on the six days' work of the creation, which has been hitherto so much desired, in Greek and Latin, from the version, and with the notes of Andrew Dacer. To which is prefixed, an Expostulatory Preface, in relation to an epistle of St. John Chrysostom to Ca?sarius, lately suppres- sed by some Parisian divines. VIII. Douze Sermons de P. A. Ministre du S. Evangile sur divers Textes. A Rot- terdam chez Reinier Leers, 1685, 12mo. i. e. Twelve Sermons by Peter Allix, Minister of the Holy Gospel, up-^ on several Texts. IX. Les Maximes du vrai Chretien, i. e. The Maxims of a good Christian. This was joined to another Ti'eatise, entitled, Bonnes et saintes pensees pour touts les Jours du mois. Amsterdam, 1687. i. e. Good and holy thoughts, for all the days in the month. X. L'Adieu de A L L I X. 227 de Sainte Paul aux Ephesiens, Sermon sur les Versets 26, 27, 28, du XX Chapitre des Actes. Amsterdam, 1G88, 12mo. t. e. St. I'aiirs Farewell to theEphesians: a Sermon upon Acts XX. 2(>, 27, 28. XL Reflections upon the Books of the Holy Scripture, to establish the Truth of tlie Chris- tian Religion. In two volumes. TiOndon, 1G88. XII. Determinatio F. Joannis Parisiensis de modo existendi Corporis Christi in Sacramento Altaris, alio quam sit ille quern tenet Ecclesia. Nunc primum edita ex M. S. Cod. S. Victoris Parisicnsis; cui pra?fisa est PrjT^tatio His- torica de Dogmate Ti'ansubstantiationis'. Londini, 1662. 8vo. i. e. The Determination of Brother John Paris, Jacobin, as to the Mode of our I^ord's Body, existing in the Sacrament of the Altar; difierent from that held by the Church. Now first printed from a MS. at St. Victor's in Paris ; to which is prefixed, an historical Preface, as to the Doctrine of Transubstantiation. XIII. Some Remarks upon the Ecclesiastical History of the ancient Churches of Piedmont, by P. Allix, D. D. London, 1690. 4to. XIV. Remarks upon the Ecclesiastical History of the ancient Churches of the Albigenses ; by Peter Allix, D. D. treasurer of the church of Sarum. Lond. 1692. 4to. XV. The Judgment of the ancient Jewish Church against' the Unitarians in the Controversy upon the Holy Trinity, and the Divinity of our blessed Saviour : With a Table of Matters and a Table of Texts of Scripture occasionally explained : By a Divine of the church of England. London, 1689. 8vo. XVI. De Messiae duplici adventu Dissertationes duae adversus Judieos. Londini, 1701, 12mo. i. c. Of the two Advents of the Messiah, in as many Dissertationsagainst the Jews. XVIL Preface and Arguments on the Psalms. XVI 1 1. Nectarii Patriarchse Ilierosolymitani Confutatio Imperii Papce in Ecclesiam. Londini, 1702. 8vo.?'. e. Nectarius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, his Confutation of the Pope's Authority in the Church. XIX. Augusti Ilermanni Francke Manuductioad Lectio- nem Scripturre Sacrse, edita studio P. Allix. Londini, 1706. Svo. /. e. Augustus Herman Francke's Introduction to the reading of the Holy Scriptures, published by Dr. Allix. XX. Dissertatio de Jesu Christi Doinini nostri Anno et Mense Natali. Londini, 1707 et 1710. Svo. /. e. A Dis- sertation on the Year and Month of the Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ. XXI. The Prophecies Avliich Mr. AVhistou tipplics to the Times inunediateiy following the Appearance of the Messiah, considered and examined. London, 1707. 8vo. XXII. Preparations a la Cene, Svo. i. c. 228 TAYLOR. i. e. Preparations for the Lord's Supper. Other pieces are also said to liave been written by him, viz. XXllI. Theses Theologicce de ultimo Judicio, Salmur. 'ito. 1(360. XXIV. A Discourse concerning Penance. London, 8vo. 1688. XXV. An Historical Discourse concerning the Necessity of the Minister's Intention in administering the Sacrament, 8vo. 1688. XXVI. An Examination of the Scruples of those who refuse to take the Oaths, 4to. 1689. XXVII. Animadversions on Mr. Hill's Vindication of the Primitive Fathers against the right reverend Gilbert, Bi- shop of Sarum : In a Letter to a Person of Quality, 4to. 1695. XXVIII. Remarks upon some Places of Mr, Whiston's Books, either printed or in ]\IS. By P. AUiXj D, D. Lond. 1711. 8vo." This piece is very scarce. RICHARD TAYLOR. XVICHARD TAYLOR was a man of abilities and erudition; evangelical in doctrine; and in conversation, faithfuhiess, and assiduity in his work, eminent and ex- emplary. He had his education in the University of St. Andrew's in Scotland, where he commenced bachelor of arts in the year 1674, and master of arts the year follow- ing. But being duly sensible of the importance of that service in the church of God, to which he had devoted himself, he did not immediately engage in preaching, but continued his studies for upwards of two years ; so that having his mind stored with a larger furniture of divine knowledge, his future capacity for usefulness might be the greater. And such was his modesty, that when he entered upon the work of the ministry, he did it first pri- vately ; and being encouraged, from the proof he had thereby given of his ability, he afterwards appeared more publicly, in 1677. About which time, he joined himself in fellowship with the dissenting congregation at Stepney; and in Aj)ril 1678, he went to Obterley, in the quality of chaplain to Sir William Thomson ; after which he removed, in September 1681, int6 the family of the Countess of Scarsdale. His abilities by this time were so well known, that in March 1679, he received an invitation from the congre- gational church at Amsterdam, to be their pastor; which, for TAYLOR. for weighty reasons at that time, he thought fit to de- cline. But having afterwards, in July 1G86, received the like invitation from the congregation in London, of which the Reverend Mr. Brooks had been pastor, he accepted of it. In the discharge of which duty he spent the remainder of his days ; and Avith what care, watchfulness, diligence, and zeal for the spiritual welfare of his flock, was far better understood by them than can be expressed by others. He was a valiant champion for the faith which v/as once delivered to the saints; a zealous asserter of free and effi- cacious grace in conversion, and of the righteousness of Christ alone for our justification, and all the other points of Christian doctrine which stand connected with them. His preaching and practice were harmonious; he never pulled down with the one hand what he built up with the other, and his whole conversation and conduct were with- out guile and temporizing. And as he lived in the faith he had preached, so he died in it, and desired his friends might know what on his death-bed he declared ; which was, as I have it delivered to me, (says Mr. Nesbitt in his funeral sermon) in these words : " I am exceedingly well satisfied in the defence I have been enabled to make of the truths of the gospel in my time, and now am full of the comforts of them; and if it were possible for me to live a thousand years longer than I have done, I would continue to preach those truths, and be more earnest in the defence of them." As the end of his living was Christ, so Christ was to him life in death. His sun did not set in a cloud, his evening was clear and serene, no dark- ness in his mind, no thorns in hi^j conscience ; nor was his patience disturbed, but had its perfect work ; for he bore all his sharp and tedious pain with a meek and quiet spirit. After his people had been blessed with his labours for more than thirty years, he died in the month of Sep- tember 1717. The following was drawn up by the edi- tor of a posthumous volume on " The Fall ;" who says, ' The Author made it the chief business of his preach- ing, whilst he lived, to plead for the sovereign freeness of God's grace, for the perfection of the satisfaction Christ made to the justice of Gon, and for the necessity of trusting to his imputed righteousness, in order to justi- fication. He at the same time was very caretul to press to the following of holiness, without which it is impossible to see or enjoy Gon. And as he was a person of most eminent piety, and of the most blameless circumspect con- versation, he was a credit to the doctrines of grace, wliich he 230 CLARK E. lie preaciied ; and he never could be charged with acting in such a way as might bring dishonour on the glorious gospel of God, his Saviour. His Works. " I. The History of the Union between the Presbyterian and Congregational Dissenting Minis- ters in and about London; with an Account of the Breach of it, 4io. 1698. II. Two Discourses preached at Pin- ner''s Hail; 1. On Christ, as he is a sure refuge and a rock of salvation. 2. On the Way to have Peace with God, Svo. 1701. III. The Establishment of the Law by the Gospel asserted and vindicated: To which is added, A Seasonable Caution against Presumption in a Time of Prosperity, Svo. 1704. IV. Discourses on several Sub- jects : In two volumes, Svo. 1719," MATTHEW CLARKE. i. HIS eminent Minister among the Dissenters was born on the 2d of February 1664, at a solitary house in Lei- cester Forest, where his father, who was one of the mi- nisters ejected by the Uniformity Act, had retired from the violence of the times. As Mr. Clarke's father was a man of learning, he took particular care of his son''s edu- cation, and grounded him in the Latin, Greek, and even some of the oriental languages, to which were added the Italian and French: He spoke the last with uncommon perfection. Qualified by out;vard, and especially by graci- ous advantages for the ministry, he began his service in the year 1684, vvhich was no very favourable season for the dis- senters. In about three years he was called to Sandwich in Kent, where he exercised his talents with great satisfac- tion for two years; but, in 1689, he returned to London, and was settled as assistant to Mr. Ford, in the meeting at Miles Lane. In 1694, u{)on the death of Mr. Ford, Mr. Clarke succeeded to the charge of that congregation, where he was Idessed with many seals to his ministry. In 1696 he married Mrs. Anne Frith of Windsor, and by her had a son and a daughter, whom he brought up with great care. About this time unhappy disputes were raised among the dissenting congregations, respecting ' the imputation of Christ's righteousness, the gospel being a new law, and a change of persons between Christ and his Elect,' whicfi created sad divisions among tkem, and also among the lecturers CLARKE. gSl lecturers at Pinner's Hall. Mr. Clarke was chosen to succeed upon a vacancy to these lectures hi the year 1697, which he continued to his deatii. In private life he was truly exemplary, and, in his public duty, was guilty of that rare fault of being too laborious. He has preached three times on the Lord's Day, and several times in the week besides ; by the con- tinuance of which labours, he overheated his blood, and lost, by degrees, his natural rest and appetite : Insomuch that, in the year 1707, he was so dangerously ill of a fever, that he was given over by friends and physicians, and fi- nally recommended in prayer by Dr. Watts, wlio assisted his devotions, as a man leaving the world, to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. But when he was thus past all expectation of life below, he was wonderfully recovered by a medicine, which was given as a last effort for his relief. This disorder, however, extremely weak- ened his constitution. In November 1715, he had the misfortune to break his leg, which, coming upon a habit worn down v/ith incessant labours, quite reduced hisformer spirits and vivacity. He was more than once chosen to appear at the head of the dissenters, in offering congratu- latory addresses to the throne, upon remarkable occasions, and particularly upon the discovery of the pretender's plot in 1722. But nothing more disturbed his mind, or con- tributed more to the impairing his health, than the un- happy divisions among his brethren assembling at Salter's Hall, respecting the heterodox opinions which were pro- pagating in the west of England among the dissenters, and particularly upon the Article of the Trinity. These opinions have been increasing among them, with addi- tional corruption to this day, and have produced number- less confusions and divisions. The Arian lie produced the curse of an exterminated gospel in Asia, where it pre- vailed: And may its republication and reception never extinguish the light of God's truth and countenance in Great Britain ! — Mr. Clarke mourned over these miserable controversies and divisions both in public and private, and prayed earnestly and constantly that God would give a better spirit to the contending parties. But, finding that he could do but little service, [tor how can the gentle voice of truth be heard in the clamoui's of passion !] he withdrew very much from public conversation, and resolved to spend the short remainder of his days in silence and solitude. In the very beginning of the year 1726, he was seized with a complication of disorders, which, on the 27th of March following, 232 CLARKE. following, being the Lord's Day, brought him to the end of his pilgrimage, after a journey of sixty-two years, se- ven weeks, and two days. He departed in great devo- tion and complacency, without any doubts of his interest in the Prince of salvation. A large Memoir of his life and character has been written by the Rev. D. Neal, M. A and prefixed to a volume of sermons composed by our Author : And the late Dr. Watts wrote also a very elegant Latin epitaph to his memory, Avhich was engrav- ed upon his tomb-stone in Bunhill Fields,* and which the Doctor afterwards translated into English, Translation of Mr. Matthew Clarke's Epitaph Sacred to Memory. In this Sepulchre lies buried MATTHEW CLARKE, A Son bearing the Name of his venerable Father, nor less venerable Himself: Trained up from his youngest years in sacred and human Learning ; Very skilful in the Languages : In the Gift of Preaching excellent, laborious, and successful : In the Pastoral Office faithful and vigilant : Among the Controversies of Divines moderate always, and pacific : Ever ready for all the Duties of Piety : Among Husbands, Brothers, Fathers, Friends, he had i'ew Equals: And his Carriage toward all Mankind was eminently benevolent. But what rich Stores of Grace did lie behind The veil of Modesty, no human Mind Can search, no Friend declare, nor Fame reveal. Nor has this mournful Marble power to tell. Yet there's a hasf ning Hour : it comes, it comes, To rouse the sleeping Dead, to burst the Tombs, And set the Saint in view. All Eyes behold. While the vast Records of the Skies unrolfd. Rehearse his Works, and spread his Worth abroad; The Judge approves, and Heav'n and Earth applaud. Go C. M A T H E R. 233 Go, Traveller, and wheresoe''er Thy wancrring Feet shall rest. In distant Lands, thy Ear siiall hear His Name pronounc''d and blest. He was born in Leicestershire, in the year 1664'. He died at London, March 27, 1726, Aged Sixty-two years, Much beloved, and mucii lamented. COTTON MATHER, D. D. J. HE life of this respectable man was published by his son, Samuel Mather, an abridgment of which has been given to the world by the late learned Dr. Jennings, with a recommendatory preface by Dr. Watts. This would be a very considerable encomium, if it stood alone : But he had higher claims of regard, both as an indefati- gable pastor and a fervent Christian. He was born at Boston in New England, February 12, 1663. His father. Dr. Increase Mather, and his grandfather, Mr. Richard INIather, were both eminent ministers of the gospel in Sew England. And, by his mother's side, he was grandson to Mr. John Cotton, a man of piety and learning, after whom he was named Cotton. His progress in human literature was great and speedy ; but it was a much brighter part of his character, that, like another young Timothy, he knew the Holy Scriptures from a child. He grew in wisdom and knowledge above most of equal years, as appears by his early hatred of sin, and the solemn transactions of his soul with God. He made remarks upon all authors in the course of his reading, by which means he was natu- rally led to study them thoroughly, and to fix what he had so studied upon his memory, which appears to have been strong and retentive. His marriages were these: The first was with Mrs. Abigail Philips, daughter of Colonel Philips of Charlestown. She was his consort till 1702, when she died. His second marriage was in the year 1703, with a ■widow gentlewoman, Mrs. Elizabeth Hubbard, daughter of Dr. John Clark. They lived together ih perfect har- mony for ten years, she dying November B, 1713. In his fifty-third year he married the widow of 3fr. George, (a worthy merchant) daughter of the learned Mr. Samuel Lee. 234 C. M A T H E R. Lee. With her the Doctor was blessed to the end of his life. He had in all fifteen children, namely, nine by his first wife, and six by his second : but only two survived him : a daughter by the first wife, and a son by the se- cond. His method was excellent in the education of his children, but he laboured most to ijistruct them in reli- gion ; and it was his usual way, to pray for each of them separately and by name. He laid down special rules for his own government in conversation, which he strictly ad- hered to. He was so careful to redeem his time, that to prevent the tediousness of visits, he wrote over his study door in capital letters, " Be short." In his account of one year, it appeared that he had preached seventy-two public sermons, besides many private ones ; that not a day had passed without some contrivance to do good, and in which some part of his income had not been dealt out to cha- ritable and pious uses ; that, in that one year, he had composed and published fourteen books, and had kept sixty fasts, and twenty-two vigils. And yet, notwithstanding his amazing diligence in improving his time, his diary abounds with censures upon himself. For instance, at the end of one year, he writes, " Time so mis-spent, as to render it unfit to be called life.*' Another year he calls, " A year of forfeited life." On the review of another year, he says, " Another year of my sinning against my precious Re- deemer. Alas ! my unfruitfulness !" Another year he calls, " A year whiled away in sin and sloth." He began to preach when he was about eighteen, and was chosen co-pastor with his father before he was quite twenty years old. This will appear to have been early, and perhaps too early. Certainly it can be no rule for those who are not furnished with his uncommon attain- ments. It should be remembered, that, at this time, he >vas not only a master in the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages, but had gone through a course of other diffi- cult and various learning. In his nineteenth year, he pi'o- ceeded master of arts, and chose for his thesis, " The Divine Autliority of the Hebrew Points," which he took upon him to defend, though afterwards, we are told, upoji maturer reflection, he saw sufiicient reason to change his opinion upon that matter. It appears by some passages in Ins diary, wrote about that time, how apprehensive he was of danger from temptalions to pride, particularly by the ibllowing : " The apprehension of cursed pride (the sin of young ministers) working in my heart, filled me with inexpressible bitterness arid confusion before the Lord, In my C. MATHER. 235 my early youth, when some others of my age were play- ing in the street, I was preaching to large assemblies : and I was honoured with great respect among the peojjle of God. I feared (and thanks be to God that he made me fear) lest Satan v/as hereby preparing a snare and a pit for such a novice. I therefore resolved, that I would set apart a day to humble myself before God for the priri,^in,i/ /i.ttax- in i/i, f^pi/iion .■//Ifffrnrr H A H V E Y. 241 for tlie ministry, and made a great improvement in all the usual parts ot learnin<;, and was critically skilled in the Greek tongue. But he especially aj)plied himself to the study of divinity, as more agreeable to the temper of his mind, and the design of his life. His incHiiations to the ministry were too strong to be diverted by any worldly views, but grew up with him from his infancy. When his father feared lest his stature should render him des- picable, and be an obstruction to his acceptance in the world, he declared to a triend, as his deliberate sense, *' That he was willing to undergo any pains, or any re- proach for the term of life, if he might be the instrument of saving one soul." While he was in his studies, he r.scd to have set meetings with a select number of fellow- pupils designed for the ministry, at their several cham- bers, for solemn prayer to Gou for a blessing upon their labours. He spent many hours, and sometimes parts of a day in prayer, not ftom a su})erstitious fear, or an im- posed tnsk, but from the breathings of his soul to God, and from delightful communion v.ith him. His natural capacities were excellent. He had a sound judgment, a quick apprehension, and a tenacious me- mory. As he read much, he retained what he read, and would give a surprising account of the sermons he heard. He had a great justness and compass in his thougiits, a natural ease and propriety of expression, and a great mix- ture of gravity an J liveliness when he was engaged in any service, both in countenance and speech. He delighted in religious conversation, and seldom cared to bear a part in any other, though he would be sometimes cheerful too. Here he shone, and appeared with great advantage, and was most free and communicative. He had a great opi- nion of the good which might be done by it, when it turned upon useful and important subjects, and was ma- naged with discretion, and with a serious design. Perhaps he was led to this by the remarkable instance which he told an intimate friend, " That when he was a school-boy, his conversation about religion had been the means of the conversion of one who became a ininister, which account, he said, he received some years after from the person him- self." He kept a Diary ibr more than sixteen years to- gether of tlie state of his soul, and tiie remarkable pro- vidences of -Gou, in which were contained many wise and judicious remarks, and the most devout reflections and ejaculations, bewailing the disorders of his mind, im- ploring the divine aid, adoring the divine mercy, &c. A VOL. IV. R worthy 242 H A R V E Y. worthy mini'ster of his acquaintance, and who knew hini from his youth, declared, ' That in the latter part of Mr. Harvey's life he considered him as a Christian fully grown, and arrived to tlie most advanced steps of the divine life^ which are found among men on earth/ As to his ministerial character, he was greatly furnished beyond his years, and above the common measure. His discourses were always upon the most weighty and se- rious subjects, composed with great judgment, and dispos- ed in the best order, delivered with a manly decency and a becoming zeal, which engaged attention, and gave de- light, and acquired him the great esteem of the serious and judicious in all the congregations in city and country wherever he came. He did not affect a vain ostentation of learning or wit, but chose to appear serious and con- cerned, as one who was in good earnest himself, and intent upon doing good to the souls of men. He had great ap- prehensions of the mediation of Christ, and the standing induences of the Divine Spirit, as the grand peculiarities of the Christian dispensation, and feared that the want of a due regard to them was one great reason of the languish- ing state of religion among us. Pie had great anxiety about his choice at Sudbury in Suffolk, for some time together, and was desirous to know the will of God by carefully weighing the circumstances of things, and determined to follow it, whoever should be of another opinion from him. His friends generally apprehended him fit for London, where there is the greatest extent of service, and which is the great resource of all reliefs to the country, and that the work at Sudbury would be too great for his strength. The uncommon value and affection of the people at Sudbury for him, and the apprehensions he entertained of greater usefulness in a pastoral relation among a consid- erable number of serious persons, determined him for settling there. When he was admonished by an elder mi- nister of the weakness of his constitution, he said, " He was willing to venture his life in the service of Gou, wdierever he should call him ; that his "work was a good work; that he served a good Master, and that he was not solicitous about the event." His sickness was a slow fever, which proved fatal, through the weakness of his constitution, before it was apprehended dangerous. He ventured abroad, while the feverish disorder hung upon him, and much exhausted his spirits in a conversation with some younger persons, who greatly valued his ministry. ^\'hen his books were packed up for his removal, he said to EVANS. 243 to a friend at the beginning of his sickness, " Perhaps I have a longer journey to go than to Sudbury ;" and so it proved, for he died the day before he designed his journey thither, viz. April 17, 1720, aged thirty. The slow ad- vance of his distemper at first, which gave no apprehen- sion to those about him, and the sudden turn of it after- wards, prevented any expressions of his mind about his death, lie was often heard to pray the last night, and sometimes in Latin, as supposed for the greater freedom of his thoughts, and that he niiglit not be understood by those who attended. ' This was the Christian, this the minister, (says Dr. Harris, at the close of his funeral ser- mon for him, whence these memoirs of jMr. Harvey have been collected) whose conversation and labours we enjoy- ed lor almost seven years. 1 doubt not many found that benefit by them, which will never be forgotten. I am sure, we have all a great account to give of their improve- ment. God grant that our profiting by the sickness and death, as well as by the life and labours of his faithful servants, may appear to all men !' JOHN EVANS, D.D. J OHN EVANS was born at Wrexham in Derbyshire, and descended from a race of ministers for four genera- tions, and, excepting one interruption, quite up to the Reformation. Ilis father was ejected for his nonconfor- mity at Oswestry in Shropshire, in 10(32. He had his education first under Mr. Thomas llovr of London, and afterwards under Air. Richard Franldand, at Rathmill in Yorkshire. He enjoyed great advantages under both, and made great proficiency in all parts of literature. His first settlement in life was in the family of Mrs. Hunt of Bore- atton in Shropshire, who was relict of Rowland Hunt, Esq. and sister of Lord Paget. He was treated with the kindness and respect of a son by that excellent lady, and by all the family, which he always spoke of with a singular pleasure and honour. Here he enjoyed the great felicity of an agreeable retirement in a religious family and pleasant country, with all the conveniences for study and devotion. While he wa> in this family, he. began to preach before he was quite twenty. After sortie time, he was called to his father's congregation at "\Vre>:ham; but upon their refusal 244. EVANS. refusal to join with the other congregation In the town , which became vacant, they desired he would rather settle in the other congregation, than leave the town. Here he was ordained hy Mr. Talents of Shrewsbury, Mr. James Owen of Oswestry, Mr. M. Henry of Chester, and Dr. Benyon ; and lived several years with great acceptance and esteem. He was once obliged to dispute the pomt of water-baptism with one of ihe people called quakers, be- fore a select number of friends, whom he baffled by the many instances of those converted to Christianity in the Acts, and even after their receiving the Holy Gliost. After some time he received an invitation to settle at Dublin, but Dr. Williams, who, though he was not satis- fied to remove him from Wrexham, which was his own native town, yet rather than let him leave the kingdom, prevented that design, by sending for him to London, Avhere he was several years his assistant; and afterwards, at his own desire, joint pastor, and succeeded him at his death. They lived together in the greatest mutual affec- tion and esteem, notwithstanding the disparity of years, and different sentiments in some particular matters, which they sometimes debated v.ith great freedom, and without any offence. He spent a whole week in a solemn retire- ment, and ir. extraordinary exercises of devotion, Avhen he first took the whole pastoral charge of this congrega- tion, where he spent the principal part of his life and la- bours, and which iie always reckoned, w'ith great thank- fulness and pleasure, was sober, judicious, and peaceable: And God owned iiis ministry aiid endeavours many ways to the good of many, youngei and elder, and in some in- stances very singular and remarkable. He was several years conceined in the ' Lord's Day evening lecture at Salter's Hall ;' and vvas chosen one of the six preachers at the ' merchants"' lecture' in that place, in the room of Mr. Jeremiah Smith. He published many sermons upon various occasions ; and was once engaged in a contro- versial writing with a late learned person, concerning ' The importance of Scripture consequences,' which was generally allowed to be done in a masterly and Christian way, with great clearness and judgment, and with great sobriety and decency. He had formed a design many years ago of writing " A History of Noncontbrmity," from the beginning of the Reformation to the times of the civil war; and to trace it from its first rise and spring, through the several steps and gradual progress of it. He had made a vast preparation of materials from all (piarlcrs, with industry and expence, for several years; and EVANS. 245 and had assistance from several gentlemen, who were skil- ful in that affair, and approved the design. He began to transcribe it some years before he died, and left fairly written about a third part of one of the two folios he de- signed. But his constant employment in the ministerial work in a large congregation, the great variety of public affairs which passed through his hands, the early decays of his constitution, and various troubles in his own af- fairs, prevented that close application which the nature of the work required, in the later years of his life : So that this work was left unfinished. His character was re- markable for many excellent endowments. He had a great solidity of judgment, and uncommon capacity in distinguishing the diiferences, and discerning the true state of a matter. His vivacity and quickness, joined with great judgment, made a very rare and uncommon mix- ture : lie had the solidity of cooler and slower minds, and the life and quickness of those of the warmest imagina- tion. His industry and diligence were indefatigable : He could bear hard study, and go through a great variety of business with ease and dispatch: He was peculiarly made for the active life, and was not easily tired or discouraged by the difficulties of an attempt. His prudence was often seen in conducting a difficult affair, or managing a debate of consequence ; in foreseeing probable difficulties, and finding out proper expedients, in which he was often singularly happy. His principles in religion were sober and moderate, without any zeal for useless speculations, or running into any extreme : He much attended to what was profitable. The Bible Avas his religion and rule, and his great encouragement and support in all his trials and conflicts, living and dying. He was thoroughly or- thodox, and perfectly catholic; disposed to think well of and to honour those who differed from him, if upright and deserving, of the several denominations among us. He knew no difference in his affection and esteem between one good man and another, but what the different degrees of grace had made. His last sickness was a complication of distempers, which gradually broke his constitution, though it seemed built for a longer standing ; and became grievous to him, not only as a confinement from active service, which he most dreaded, but as it was sometimes very painful and dis- tressing. He was preserved, however, in steadiness and composure of mind through a long exercise of faith and patience, with submission to the divine will, and was ready to 246 E V A x\ S. to wait the event which God should allot hini. His lingering illness gave the opportunity of dropping several things instructive and aflbcting. He had the sentence of death in himself a considera*)le time, and rejoiced in the views of eternity. Me would sometimes check himself in the midst of exquisite pain, •' I must not complain; God is good, and the will of the Lord be done." He once said, " Though I cannot affirm, in the great expression, worthy an apostle, of a late venerable minister among us, (the pious Mr. Lorimore) a little before his death, ' I have no more doubt of my acceptance with God, than I have of mv own existence ; yet I have good hope through grace, and such as I am persuaded will never make me ashamed." Tliough he was sensible of many failings, he said, " Yet he could appeal to God, that he had walked before him in integrity." And added, witli much earnest- ness and tears, " I have reason of thankfulness for an early sense of religion and dedication to God ; I have en- deavoured to order the main part of life as before him, and ever desired to be faithful in t!)e ministry : I am conscious of many failings in public and in private life ; but I can rest upon the gospel-covenant for mercy : I am fully per- suaded of its truth, and desire no other salvation." Sub- joining at another time, " I die in the faith and hope of the gospel I have preached, and now find great comiort in it." When in acute pain, thus he spoke : " The forma- lity and ceremony of taking down this tabernacle by de- grees, is irksome and grievous : How much better were it, if it pleased God, that it might tumble at once ! But the will of God be done." When he looked upon his arms swollen v/ith distemper, and deformed by disease, he would often cry with pleasure, " This corruptible shall put on incorruption. O glorious hope!" And when in great pain of body, would exclaim, " Blessed be God for the peace of my mind." He told a particular friend who visited him, " That he Was obliged to those who expressed so great a concern for liis life, but it, was not so much as his ov/n desire :" Add- ing, " If I might be continued, however, for further usefulness in the church of Christ, I shall be glad to live, but if not, it is my earnest desire to finish at present." lie spent whole nights in prayer to God, when he could not sleep, for himself, his family, his friends, and the church of God ; for this was the proper breath of his soul. Upon occasion of the hours of prayer among many on this account, he said, " I heartily wish that my alHic- tioi» Frvm tui vrufiiml Ji'cliiir . S A U R I N. 247 Mon maybe the means of reviving the spirit of prayer; I shall not think much of any thing I endure, provided it have that effect. Some days before his deatl), he began, with a trembling hand, to write some hints of meditation for the use of himself and his friends : The inscription whei'eof was, " What I am as a creature ; as a reasonable creature; as a sinful creature; as a redeemed creature; as a creature in a state of trial for eternity; as a sociable creature, and related to other beings a!)out me." The last thing remarkable, while he was sensible, and some of the last words he was heai'd to say, were, lifting up his hands, and crying out, " All is well ; All is well ;" and finished his course with joy in the fifty-first year of his age. May 16, 1730. Dr. Evans was of an uncommonly tall stature, yet not a lusty man. Tliere was something very pleasing, solemn, and commanding in his countenance. He married a lady of family, and had a daughter supposed to be a considerable fortune ; but it proved otherwise, and at his death there was a very handsome provision made for his wife and daughter by the congregation, out of the very great respect they paid to his memory as an accomj)lished preacher and a most excellent man. It was not known till after his decease, that he had been tempted to make private shipwreck of his large fortune in the fatal South-sea year, so destructive to multitudes of others as well as to him. The weight of which secret lay on his mind, and was, in some measure, productive (so one of his intimates thought) of his slow but certain death. He w'as buried with great solemnity in Dr. William's vault, in Bunhill Fields. — Dr. Harris spoke the funeral oration over the grave, and preached his funeral sermon. Ilis AVorks. Many sermonr,, published at various times, upon public and private occasions, from the year 1704 to 1727. A volume of Sermons for young persons, 1725. Two volumes of Practical Discourses concerning the Christian temper. Two letters to Mr. Cummingj upon Scripture-consequences. JAMES SAURIN. i3AURIN's father was an eminent lawyer at Nismes, in France, and being a protestant, was obliged to fly with his family, and with thousands of his reformed coun- trymen,, 24S S A U R I N. trymen, upon the shameful, impolitic, and perfidious re- vocation of the edict of Natitz. He settled at Geneva. He had four sons, whom he trained up in learning, and who were all so remarkably eloquent, that eloquence was said to be hereditary in that faniilv. Our Author was born at Nismes in l(i77 ; and, thouji^h after his exile with his father at Geneva, he had made considerable -advances in letters, he abandoned them all for a season, that he might follow arms. In 1694, when he was but seventeen, he made a campaign as a cadet in Lord Galloway's company, and, in the next year, obtained a pair of colours from his commander : But, upon tlie signing of the peace between France and Savoy, he quitted a life for which he was never designed, and applied himself to philosophy and di- vinity under those great masters, Turretin, Tronchin, Pictet, Chouet, and other vf^ry learned men, with whoni. Geneva at that time was crowded, some as natives, and more as refugees from other parts of the world. The summary, however, of this valuable person's life has been so ably drawn by tlie masterly pen of the translator of his sermons into English, that, we hope, he will excuse the liberty we take, in obliging our readers wrth an extract from the memoirs which he has prefixed to tljose dis- courses. ' Under these great masters [viz. those above-mentioned] Saurin became a student, and particularly applied himself to divinity, as he now began (1G96) to think of devoting himself to the ministry. To dedicate one"'s self to the ministry in a wealthy, flourishing church, where rich bene- fices are every day becoming vacant, requires very little virtue, and sometimes only a strong propensity to vice ; but to choose to be a minister in such a poor, banished, persecuted church as that of the French protestants, argues a noble contempt of the world, and a supreme love to God, and to the souls of men. These are the best testi- monials, however, of a young minister, whose profession is, not to enrich, but to save himftelf, and them who hear him, 1 Tim. iv. 16. In 1700, after Mr. Saurin had finished his studies, he visited Holland and England. In the first he made a very short stay ; but in the last he staid almost five years, and preached with great acceptance among his fellow exiles in London. Of his person an idea mav be formed by the annexed copper-plate, which is said to be a great likeness, and for which I am indebted to my inge- nious friend Mr. Thomas Hollovvay, as I am to his amiable brother Mr. John Hollovvay, for several anecdotes of Saurin S A U II I N. 249 Saurin. His dress was that of the French clergy, the gown and cassoc. His address was perfect ly genteel, a iiappy compound of the alfable and tlie grave, at an equal distance from rusticity and foppery. His voice was strong, clear, and harmonious, and he never lost the manage- ment of it. His style was pure, unalTected, and eloquent, sometimes plain, and sometimes flowery : but never im- proper, as it was always adapted to the audience, for whose sake he spoke. An Italian acquaintance of mine, who often heard him at the Hague, tells me, that in the introductions of his sermons he used to deliver himself in a tone modest and low; in the body of the sermon, which was adapted to the understanding, he was plain, clear, and argumentative, pausing at the c!ose of each period, that he might discover, by the countenances and motions of his hearers, whether they were convinced by his reason- ing ; in his addresses to the wicked, (and it is a folly to preach as if there were none in our assemblies. Mr. Saurin knew mankind too well,) he was often sonorous, but oftener a weeping suppliant at their feet. In the one he sustained the authoritative dignity of his office, in the other he expressed his T\I aster's and his own benevolence to bad men, prai/uig them in Christ's stead to he reconciled to GoD^ 2 Cor. v. 20. In general, adds my friend, his preaching resembled a plentiful shower of dew, softly and imjjerceptibly insinuating itself into the jn.inds of his nu- meioui hearers, as the dew into the iiores of j)lants, till the whole church was dissolved, and all in tears under his sermons. His doctrine was that of the French protestants, which, at that time, was moderate Calvinism. He ap- proved of the discipline of his own churches, which was presbyterian. He was an admirable scholar, and, which were his highest encomium, he had an unconquerable aversion to sin, a supreme love to God, and to the souls of men, and a holy, unblemished lil'e. Certainly he had some faults : but, as I have never heard of any, I can publish none. During his stay in England in 1703, he married a ^liss Catherine Boynton, by whom he had a son, named Philip, who survived him ; but whether he had any more chiU dren, I know not. Two years after his marriage he re- turned to Holland, where he had a mind to settle : but the pastoral offices being all full, and meeting with no prospect of a settlement, though his preaching was re- ceived with universal applause, he was jneparing to return lo England, when a chaplainship to some of the nobilitv at 'the 250 S A U R I N. the Hague, with a stipend, was offered to him. This situation exactly suited his wishes, and he accepted the place in 1705. The Hague, it is said, is the finest village in Europe. It is the residence of the States General, of ambassadors, and envoys from other courts, of a great number of nobility and gentry, and of a multitude of French refugees. The Princes of Orange have a spacious palace here, and the chapel of the palace was given to the refugees for a place of public worship, and, it being too small to contain them, it was enlarged by above Iialf. This French church called him to be one of their pastors. He accepted the call, and continu(id in liis office till his death. He was constantly attended by a very crowded au- dience, was heard with tl^e utmost attention and pleasure, and, what few ministers can say, the effects of his mi- nisterial labours were seen in the holy lives of great num- bers of his people. When the Princess of Wales, aft erwards.Queen Caroline, passed through Holland, in her way to England, Mr. Saurin had the honour of paying his respects to that illustrious lady. Her royal highness was pleased to single him out from the rest of the clergy who were present, and to say to him, ' Ho not imagine that, being dazzled with the glory which this revolution seems to promise me, I have lost sight of that God from whom it proceeds. He hath been pleased to distinguish it with so many extraordinary marks, that I cannot mistake his divine hand ; and, as I consider this long train of favours as immediately coming from him, to him alone I consecrate them.' It is not asto- nishing, if Saurin speaks of this condescension with rap- ture. They are the kind and Christian actions of the go- vemiors of a free people, and not the haughty airs of a French tyrant, insulting his slaves, that attach and inflame the hearts of mankind. The history of this illustrious Christian queen is not written in blood, and therefore, it is always read with tears of grateful joy. Her royal high- ness was so well satisfied with Mr. Saurin's meint, that soon after her arrival in England, she ordered Dr. Boulter, who was preceptor to Prince Frederic, the father of his present majesty, to write to Saurin, to draw up a (realise on the education of princes. Saurin immediately obeyed the order, and prefixed a dedication to the young princes. The book was never printed : but, as it obtained the ap- probation of the Princess of Wales, who was an incom- parable judge, we may conclude that it was excellent in its kind. This was followed by a handsome present from the princess S A U R I N. 251 princess to the author. His most considerable work was entitled, " Discourses historical, critical, and moral, on the most memorable events of the Old and New Testa- ment." This work was undertaken by the desire of a Dutch merchant, who expended an immense sum in the engraving of a multitude of copper-plates, which adorn the work. It consists of six folio volumes. Mr. Saurin died l)eforc the third was finished; but Mr. Roques finished the third, and added a fourth on the Old Testament ; and Mr. De Beausobre subjoined two on the New Testament. The whole is replete with very extensive learning, and well worth the careful perusal of students in divinity. The first of these was translated into English by Chamber- layne, soon after its first publication in French. His " Dissertation on the expediency of sometimes dis- guising the truth,"'"' raised a furious clamour against our Au- thor. He does not decide the question : but he seems to take the aflTu-mative. This produced a paper war, and his antagonists unjustly censured his morals. The mildness of his disposition rendered him a desirable opponent, for though he was sure to conquer, yet he subdued his adver- sary so handsomely, that the captive was the better for his defeat. But others did not controvert with so much temper. Some wrote against him, others for him. At length the synod decided the dispute in his favour. He published a small, but valuable piece, on " The state of Christianity in France." It treats of many important points of religion, in controversy between t!ie catholics and protestants. There are twelve volumes of his sennons. Some are dedicated to his Majesty George II. and the king was pleased to allow him a handsome pension. Some to her Majesty Queen Caroline, while she was Princess of Wales. One to Count Wassanaer, a Dutch nobleman. Tv/o were dedicated to her majesty, after his decease, by his son. Professor Dumont, and Mr. Husson, to whom Mr. Saurin left his manuscripts, published the rest, and one volume is dedicated to the Countess Dowager of Albemarle. The English seem therefore to have aright to the labours of this great man. Mr. Saurin died at the Hague on December 30, 1730, most sincerely regretted by all his acquaint- ances, as well as by his church, who lost in him a truly primitive Christian minister, who spent his life in watch- ing over his flock, as one who knew that he must give an account."' 252 U L R I C K. JOHN JACOB ULRICK. X HIS pious INIan was professor of etliics, and minister of the orphan-house at Zuric in Svvisserland ; born in the year 1683, and died the 25th of May 1731. An ill liabit of body, contracted by a sedentary life, and the overstraining of his voice in preaching, disabled him from p.ublic work for two years before he died : But, during that interval, he not only published many excellent books, but also prepared himself and waited for his great change with such a degree of faith, hope, and resignation, as can- not fail of being exceedingly edifying to all who regard the dying v>'ords of the children of Gon. The last sermon he preached was from Job xix. 25. 1 know that my Ihdetmer /H'e^A, which he printed at the desire of several friends; and after signing his name, adds, " Whose motto may be, As (^y^ig, and behold we live ; as chastised, and 7iot killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.'''' In the preface to some discourses, which he dated from his sick-bed a few months before he ^died, he declares, " That eternity had swal- lowed up most of his thoughts and desires ; that like unto Noah''s dove, he could find no rest in any created thing ; and therefore he hastens toward the ark, wishing to be dis- solved, and to be with Christ ; but willing, if so it pleased God, to continue still longer in this valley of tears, and so long to follow the lamb to Golgotlia, till he may be ad- mitted into Zion and Jerusalem. My Jesus ! saith he, though he cried but a few moments ago, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? yet triumphs a little after, It is finished, and bowed his head ; so will it also be said of me at last, " This is one that is come out of great tribulations :" And concluded, " Well, Lord Jesus ! if thou wilt not come now, come at last quickly ! O Lord Jesus ! come, and let thy servant depart in peace." Beinir desired, a;ireeable to an annual custom, to invito the learned of the academy to a due solemnizmg ot the commemoration of the first Pentecost of the New Testa- ment, this he did in a beautiful Latin oration, (choosing for his subject Stephen looking stedfastly to heaven, and seeing Jesus at the right hand of Gon,) although so weak that he could not read it in public himself Here, after a lively and engaging explication of the passage in thf». U 1. 11 1 C K. 853 the Acts, he proved, by a variety of instances, the truth of this comfortable doctrine, " That the Lord sometimes grants to his children, in their last hours, a most delightful sense and expectation of that bliss to which after death they enter, and permits them, in full assurance of faith, to have a loretaste of the glories of the better world." To this, having produced a great cloud of witnesses, he ex- horted his hearers most fervently so to live, that so thev might die ; and at last gave, as it were, his own dying words, which sufficiently evince him one of those who have hope in death. " But whither," said he, " does the sweetness of these things lead me.'' Truly, a dying Chris- tian as I am, can never hear too much of dying ; I, who can hardly fetch my breath, and am doubtful whether 1 must recivon myself among the dead or among the living. It is this consideration that filled my sails, and carried me so far from the shore. But that I may free you from tedious hearing, I withdraw, and turn myself lastly in a feeble voice to thee, O sweet Jesus! In thy name I be- gan, and in thy name I finish ; all the glory be unto thee alone I INIany things have I to ask of thee, but I will do it on my sick bed, and with full freedom in my closet. This only I pray, I may not be refused. If I can be of any use to thy church, O restore me ! If not, O free me from this world, which to me is far better ! Thou knowest I do not shun death ; I wish and wait for it with open arms. iMethinks I die, because I cannot die of that death which will open unto me the gates of life. Let him be afi'aid of death who is unwilling to go to Christ, and who has no hope of reigning with Christ; but, my Jesus, this I do not only hope, but, though I am over and over death and hell deserving, yet I am firmly assured of it ; why- then should I be afraid of death.'' why not rather long for it .'' Christ is my life, and to die is my exceeding great gain. — Yea, Lord, let me now die, that I may see thee. " How many thousand wishes I send for tliee.^ O Jesus! when wilt thou satisfy my soul? — But what do I say ? Be- hold I see, even now, heaven open, and the Son of Man at the right hand of Gon; but I see it through the lattice, and only as in a glass. I see it, but not near. O that I might soon see it face to face ! 0 that I might soon kiss him as present, and be satisfied, O Jesus! with the bless- ings of thy temple, thy holy sanctuary ! 0 grant that I may soon come out of the tribulation, wherein I have re- sisted unto blood, appear before thee in a white robe with palms in my hand, and, with the whole innumerable company 254. B O S T O N. company of thine, sing eternal praises to thee. Grant, my Jesus ! that, like thee, I may soon get from the cross to the crown, from thorns to roses, from danger to secu- rity, from tribulation to refreshing, from labour to rest, from contempt to honour, from fighting to victory, from striving to truuiiphing, from suffering to g^ory, from hope to the thing hoped for, from believing to enjoying, from death to life; and when I get there, I will break out in a triumph. — It is finished: I see what I sought; I have what I longed for ! — My Jesus I I am sick for love ; my heart burns after thee. Behold I see the heavens open, and not only so, but open to receive me; I see my Jesus face to face, and my soul is made whole." — In this frame of soul he expired. THOMAS BOSTON, Late MINISTER of the GOSPEL at ETTRICK. Mr. THOMAS BOSTON was descended from a family in the shire of Ayr; but his father having removed to the Merse, in the south of Scotland, settled at Dunse, famous for a castle anciently built there ; and in that town his son Thomas was born, March 17, 1676. Mr. Boston made great progress in learning; and he soon discovered so much sweetness of temper, such fluency of speech, delivered with so much gravity mixed with seriousness, that many persons of considerable rank used to love his company be- fore he was ten years of age. At that time the established religion in Scotland was the episcopal ; but the worship in general that of tlie presbyterians. The father of Mr. Bos- ton was in sentiment a presbyterian, but did not approve of some things done by those people, especially their tak- ing up arms in 1670, after the murder of the Archbishop of St. Andrew's. It was therefore his practice to go to the established church, and take his son along with him ; which he did till 1G87, when King James published his de- claration for liberty of conscience, and tiien they went to the presbyterian meetings. Mr. Boston, though no more than eleven years of age at that time, had nevertheless made such progress in Latin, that he had read over several of the classics; and in 1688, the memorable year of the Revolutionj his father sent him to the grammar-school at Roxburgh BOSTON. 255 .Roxburgh. In 1690, the presbyteiian profession having been established by law in Scotland, several things pointed out tlie utility of IMr. Boston's dedicating Iiiniself to the service of Christ in tlie work of the ministry. There were but iew ministers of the presbyterian persuasion, they having been persecuted near twenty-eight years; and such of the episcopalians as remained in their churches were not much esteemed by their people, except in the northern counties, where tiiat persuasion for the most part prevail- ed. To tliis may be added, that Mr. ]^oston, tliough at that time no more than fourteen years of age, had acquir- ed a great knowledge of l-atin and Greek, and was begin- ning logic. He says in his Diji.ry, that he remembered every material passage in the lloman historians ; which was of great service to him afterwards. In 169-3, he was sent to the Univei'sity ol Edinburgh, where he studied di- vinity under Mr. Campbell, a gentleman who had suffer- ed much during the troubles of the presbylerians, and who, after the revolution, educated more young ministers than any one man in Scotland had ever done before. Un- der this instructor, Mr. Boston made ^uch progress, that, before he was twenty years of age, he was advised to put himself on trial for the ministry. The consideration of this sunk deep into his mind, and induced him to ask strength of that Goo who alone can give it. It is a maxim in the church of Scotland, that there should not be a shepherd without a flock; and therefore a person cannot be ordained to the ministry until a living is provid- ed for him. Therefore, when a young man has completed his studies, he is examined by the presbytery to which he belongs, and receives a licence to preach ; but cannot ad- minister the sacraments till he procures a church. In this manner Mr. Boston was licensed to preach, by the presby- tery of Roxburgh, 1697, and for some time assisted in va- cant churches. Having contracted a friendship with seve- ral worthy persons in the counties of Perth and Stirling, he went thither, and preached upwards of a whole year to crowded congregations, who had not yet procured minis- ters. In that part of Scotland, he might have had his choice of seveial parishes ; but as many of the principal gentry were episcopalians, and their ministers alive, he did not choose to settle where tliere was likely to be conten- tion. Accordingly he returned to his place of nativity, and was ordained minister of Shrimpton, a small village near the borders of England. In 1700 he married a young gentlewoman whom he had courted while he was in i'erth- shire ; 2jG boston. slilre; and, being thus settled, he thought of nothing so much as the precious souls committed to his charge. In preaching, administering the sacraments, catechizing the children, and visiting his people from house to house, he becanie, like the a])03tle, all things to all men, that he might save some. In 1705 he was I'emoved to the parish churcii of Ettrick, where he continued in the course of his m.inistry till May 20, 1732, when he left this world for a better, in the 57th year of his age. His Works are numerous ; but two pieces only were published in his life-time, viz. Human Nature in its Four- fold State, one of the best systems of practical divinity ever yet written: For, as Mr. Ilervey says, it contains what man was when he came from the hands of his Maker, what he hath made himself by sin, what he may be by sovereign grace, and then what he will be in glory. The other piece is a learned treatise on the Hebrew Punctua- tion, M'ritten in Latin, and much esteemed both at homeland abroad for its ingenuity. His posthumous works are also numerous, but some of them did not receive his last correc- tions. The lieverend Mr. Davidson of Braintree, whose age and faithfulness in the work of the ministry command the respect of those who have the happiness to know him, has given some exemplary instances of Mr. Boston's piety, with whom he was personally acquainted, in a preface to his posthumous sermons. He says, That ' the acquaint- ance I had with him, and the frequent opportunities I had of hearing him preach, I look upon as one of the greatest privileges I was favoured with in my early days, and which I still reflect on with great pleasure. He was indeed one of the most powerful preachers of the gospel I ever heard open a mouth. It is true he was no Boanerges as to his voice, his delivery being grave and deliberate, yet there was a majestic energy in it, which, together with his vene- rable and comely aspect, made no small impression to his advantage on the minds of them who had the pleasure of hearing him. There were few men (if any) in his day wlio courted popularity less than he did, nay he rather shunned it; but like his shadow it followed him Avherever lie went: For his ministrations were savoury and acceptable to all who had a relisli ibr the truth as it is in Jesus, and a love to that holiness of heart and life, which the belief of it never fails to influence in the minds of all the children of Goi). Though he usually wrote his sermons as full as he intended to preach them, yet this was not always the case: For some of his sermons printed a good many years ago. BOSTON. 257 ego from his notes, which I myself heard him preach, and took him a full hour to deliver, yet maybe read, even de- liberately, in near the half of that time. One reason of which is this: the Scriptures, which he brought as proofs of the points he was handling, are only cited chapter and verse in his notes, and he left several enlargements on them to delivery: For he had a talent peculiar to himself in pointing out the propriety of such proofs ; and his more than ordinary critical knowledge of the original languages in which the Scriptures were written, enabled him, in a brief but comprehensive way, to glance at the meaning of the Spirit of God in them, that was both surprising and edifying to the hearers. Could this have been recovered, it would have added greatly to the beauty of these dis- courses ; but neither this, nor the lively spiritual manner in which they were delivered, can be put in print, and set before the reader. But where the Scripture-proofs are not inserted at full length, and only chapter and verse cited, if th^ Header will be at the pains to turn to his Bible, as he goes a'o!ig in reading, he will find himself amply repaid for his pains, by the satisfaction it will give him ; and it will convince him of t!)e justness of what I have now sug- gested. I;, is more than probable, that besides the gradual decay of nature he felt the last two or three years of his life, that he had some secret notice impressed on his mind ot his approaching dissolution, which made death and the other world a subject suitable and pleasant to himself, while at the same time it is never unseasonable to any au- dience whatever. All natural motions are accelerated and quickest, the nearer they come to their centre; and to re- newed souls, born from above, who are breatliing after the perfection of holiness, and groaning under the burden of a body of sin and death, it is no wojider that tliey have a peculiar pleasure in looking forward, and hasting to the happy hour that shall complete their salvation, saying with the church. Song ii. 17. Until the day break, and the sha- dows jiee away : Turn, my Beloved, and be thou like a roe, or a young hart upon the mountains of separation.'' I have been favoured with a list of the AVorks of Mr. Boston by the indulgence of Mr. Davidson ; which are these : " I. A Sermon preached Aug. 2+, 1714, on lios. ii. 19. reprinted in 1732. II. Human Nature in its Four- fold State, which is universally known, and has passed through many editions. III. Several Volumes of Sermons. IV. His Book onthe Hebrew Punctuation, j)ublished in Latin. This last Work, and his Four-fold State, were VOL. IV. S the goS F A B R I C I U S. the only volumes (as was observed before) printed in Mr, Boston's life-time." JOHN ALBERT FABRICIUS. John albert FABRICIUS, one of the most learned and laborious men of his age, was born at Leipsic on the 11th of November 1668. Having lost his parents, when he was not more than ten or eleven years of age, he was sent by those that had the care of him, to study at Quedlimburg ; where, we are told, he was inspired with an incredible ardour for letters, by the accidental reading of Barthius's Adversaria. Upon his return from Leipsic, in the year 1686, he applied himself very attentively to the reading of ancient authors, sacred as well as profane. He went to Hamburgh in the year 1693, where John Frederic Mayer offered him apartments in his house, and the care of his library. He accepted the offer, and spent five years with Mr. Mayer in a very agreeable manner, dividing his time betwixt preaching and study. He was chosen professor of eloquence in this city, and was made doctor in divinity at Kiel. In the year 1719, the Land- grave of Hesse Cassel offered him the first professorship of divinity at Giessen, and the place of superintendant over the churches of the Augsburg confession ; which of- fer Fabricius was very ready to accept. But the magi-' strates of Hamburgh augmented his salary very consi- derably, for the sake of keeping him there ; and of this he ever after retained so grateful a sense, that no offers of preferment could tempt him to leave them. He died at Hamburgh upon the 3d of April 1736, after a life spent in the severest application : For it is almost incredible what labours he underwent, in order to benefit, as he did in an eminent degree, the republic of letters. The late Dr. Thomas, Bishop of Lincoln and Salisbury in succession, used to say of him, that ' he was at once the most learned and most amiable man he ever knew,"* Among a great number of Works, these following are the principal and most useful : " L Bibliothcca Latina, site Notitia Auctomm Vcterum Latinorum, (juortimcimque scripta (id 710S pervenenmt. This work was afterwards enlarged ; and the best edition of it is that in two volumes, 4to. IL Bibliut/ieca Grceca, sive Notitia Scriptorum Veterum Graco- vum, (jHonimcHuque Monumenta integra aut fragmenta edila extant ■ HUBBARD. 259 t.viSaM? ." turn plerorw^xK (x Mamiscriptis ac Depcrditt's. This work consists of fourteen volumes in 4to. and gives an exact account of the Greek authors, their dilTercnt edi- tions, and of ail those who have commented, or written ■notes upon them. These two works may be said to set forth a very complete history of Greek and Latin learning. III. Codex jipocrj/phus Novi Testuiyienti, colic tins, castiga- tvs, ccnsuris ct auimadversionibtfs illudratus. The best edi- tion is in three volumes Svo. nnd printed at Hamburgh, in J 71 9. IV. Bibliograplna Jnh'fjuaria^ sive Introductio in No- tiliam Scriptorum, qui Antiquilates Ilcbraicas, Gracas, Ro- manas, et Christianas scriptis illustraverunt. The best edi- tion is that of Hamburgh and Leipsic, in 1716, 4to. V. Delectus Argumentorum et syllabus Scriptornm, qui veritatem Heligiitnis Christianrr advcrsiis Aihkos, Epicurcos, Dcistas seu Naturah'stas, Idololatras, Judaos,' et Mohammcdanos lu- cubratio)iibus suis asserucrunt. Hamburgh, 1725, 4to. This performance, very valuable in itself, is yet more so, on ac- count of the Proemium and first chapters of Eusebius'^s De~ monstratio Evanp-elica. which are wanting in all the edi- tions of that vvork, and were supposed to be lost; but which are here I'ccovered by Fabricius, and prefixed to the De- lectus, with a Latin translation by himself. \T. Salutaris Lux Evangelii, toti orbi per Divinam Gratiam exoriens: sive Notitia Ili^itorico-Chronologica, Litcraria, et Geogra- phical propagatorum per orbem tottwi Christianorum Sucro- rum Dclineata. Hamburg, 1731, 4to. This work is 'cry cu- rious and interesting to the historian, as well as divine. It contains some epistles of the apostate emperor Julian, ne- ver before published." By these, and many other works of a smaller nature, Fabricius has laid the whole learned and religious world under the greatest obligations ; since he has contributed more, perhaps, than any other man ever did, to abridge and shorten the fatigue and drudgery which scholars are obliged to undergo, in order to be ac= quainted with the materials of their profession. JOHN HUBBARD, iriE was minister of Stepney, near London, upwards of twenty years ; preached Statedly in his turn at the Weekly merchants'" lecture at Tinner's Hall, and at Mr. Coward's lecture in Little St. Helen's; and some time be- fore his decease, took upon him the care of educating young 260 HUBBARD. young men for the ministry, in which he gave great satis- faction, and had no little success. The following were some of his remarkable expressions upon a sick and dying bed, taken from his ov/n mouth, at several times, in broken sentences, under the Wolence of agonizing pains, while his head was very clear and composed : " I have no doubt of my eternal interest. — Why will ye not let me die ? — Fa- ther, help me, my heavenly Father and my God. — I desire to be resigned ; I desire to be resigned. Why should I desire to live ? God has made with me an everlasting covenant, well ordered in all things, and sure ; which is all my salvation, and all my desire. — My Father in heaven, my covenant Father, help me; lay no more upon me than thou wilt enable me to bear. Let patience have its perfect work. — A God near at hand, and not afar off, a most endearing character ! — I was prepared for this illness; for I have been preaching (at Haberdasher's Hall in the morn- ing of that Lord's Day on which the fever approached that issued in his death) upon these words, Rom. viii. 37. A^ay, in all these things we are more than conquerors. — These ta- bernacles of ours are from, and ordered by God himself, every pin of them ; and it is fit that he should have the pulling of them down in his own way : He doth all things with weight and measure. — Having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is best ; yet content 1 am to stay, if God has any further work for me to do. — I put my trust in thee, O Lord, — A preserver of hope. Let me not be ashamed. — Put your trust in the Lord ; pour out your hearts before him ; for our God is a refuge for us. — O Father of compassion, help me ! " As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities them that fear him. — I will never leave you, nor forsake you. — The Lord is supreme; he doth as he pleases in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth. — All my springs are in thee. — I am in good hands; it is better to fall into the hands of God, than into the hands of man. — A guilty, weak, helpless worm, on thy kind arms- I fall, dear Jesus ! in thee I trust for strength, righteous- ness, and acceptance. Surely every man at his best estate, is altogether vanity. — How long, O Lord, ere thou wilt jome and help me ! Come, Lord, come quickly. Now do it for Christ's sake. I beseech thee deliver me from my pains: I am thy humble petitioner. Now to glorify God in the furnace, what an honour ! O for that faith which overcomes the world ! It nullifies it, and shews it to be a bauble. — O the excellency of faith ! O now increase my faith 3 J MOTH. 261 faitli, and make me more than conqueror. — I beseech thee release me one way or other. Thou canst do it: O that thou wouldst ! Come, I^ord, and make no tarrying. — Subjection to the Father of spirits." He would often say, under his grievous pains and agonies, " It is well. It is fit we should endure pain and trouble here, for we shall have none hereafter ; there the inhabitants shall not say they are sick. — Man soon fell from his first covenant, but God made a more glorious covenant with his Son. Now let me give myself up to Christ." And then added, with a solemn pause after it, " I do, I do. — O glorify God! I would have all men do it. — Through him we are more than conquerors. He is all my salvation, and all my de- sire. Amen." After these and many other expressions of the like believing, humble, resigned, joyful, and assured strain, some of which were often repeated in the two or three last days of his illness, he said with his expiring breath, " I now give up the ghost." With these last words in his mouth, he inmiediately departed, on Wedr nesday, July the J 3th, 1743, in the fitly-first year of his age, dying in the faith and comfort of those evangelical principles which he had tried and proved, and preached ;and lived upon for many years. WILLIAM MOTH, Mr. WILLIAM MOTH was pastor to the dissent^ ing congregation at Basingstoke, Hants, and departed this life 24th August 1744. Gospel doctrines, in their rdation to Christ's person, and the immediate influence they have upon all practical godliness, were the constant drift of his preaching. — How holy, justly, and unblame- ably he behaved himself before all men, w-as evident to all. He was a living preacher: a burning and a shining light. His sermons were first preached to his own heart, and then wrought into his life. Such as heard and con- versed with him, either by word or by letter, could not but take knowledge of him, from time to time, that he had been with Jesus. God was pleased to try him many Avays ; but, from the mount of straits and trial, he came down with his face shining, though, w^ith IVIoses, he saw it not himself The long and uncommon trial of his faith ^nd patience, which at last put an end to his life, served only 262 B R A I N E R D. only to throw greater lustre on his graces. When asked how his spiritual frame stood, amidst the racks of pain and sickness, his answer was, " I never said, nor (to my knowledge) thought anj thing more than, thou, God, art holy. I have deserved more than this from the .hand of God in the present life." Towards the close indeed, a veil was drawn over those sweet assurances and pleasant tokens he once had of union with Christ, and interest m him; yet, in his darkest hours, this was his language: " I can go into eternity, and appear before God, leaning on a perfect righteousness, and an everlasting covenant." — A gracious covenant God, however, though he tries long, will not try always. The cloud brake some days before life expired, and not a doubt or fear was after that allowed to discompose. He was not only enabled comfortably to lean on Christ, but also to triumph and rejoice in him. To one whom he heard saying, ' He is not like to live long; ]ie is almost gone,' he answered, " I do not desire to live; to be with Christ is far better. From rivers of pain to oceans of glory : O the riches of free grace! I am so filled, that it is ready to overcome me. Oh ! taste, and see the Lord is good. Love the Lord Jesus Christ, all of you." Being asked how he did, when his last moments drew on apace, he re])lied, " I am almost well : I know that my Redeemer liveth. The doctrines I have preached are now a comfort to my soul. Be sure you do not depart from what you have been taught, nor from the order of the church, and God will take care of you, and, I hope, will provide for you. I>et young ones beware of despising the hand of the Lord ; if they do, God will make them smart for it." And having prayed with earnestness and many tears, for the church of Christ, he soon afterwards fell asleep, being first heard to say, " Into thi/ hands I commit my syirUr DAVID BRAIN ERD. .1 HE excellent President Edwards wrote the Life of this gracious man more at large than it is compatible with the design of this work to follow. Though the whole be edifying, the concluding part is particularly so, and therefore it shall be submitted to the reader. We will only premise, that he was born in Connecticut, New England, B R A I N E R D. 263 England, on the 20tli of April 1718, and died at North- ampton in the same province, on the 9th of October 1747, in the thirtieth year of his age. When he was in his last sickness, his constitution being naturally weak and infirm, he was forewarned that he should not have many days, and that the course infinite wisdom had allotted liim to run, though great, was but short. The thoughts of death, therefore, and eternity, were long familiar to his mind; an intimacy, which in the near- est views of both, left his soul cheerful and serene. It was in the beginning of September 1747, that his frail taberna- cle began to fail him. A complication of disorders of the most obstinate nature presaged his speedy dissolution, a prospect that he never contemplated but with pleasure, sometimes even with rapture ; saying often, " Oh the glorious time is now coming! I have longed to serve Gou perfectly ; and now God Vt'ill gratify these mv desires. — I long to be in heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holy angels : All my desire is to glorify God. My heart goes out to the burying-place; it seems to me a desirable place ; but, oh ! to glorify God, that is above all !" The last sentence which he wrote in his Diary, was upon the 25th, and runs thus : " Oh my dear God, I am speedily coming to thee, I hope ! Hasten the day, O Lord, if it be thy blessed will. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly! Amen." On Sunday the 27th, he said, " I was born on a Sabbath Day ; I have reason to think I was new-born on a Sabbath Day ; and I hope I shall die on this Sabbath Day. I shall look upon it as a favour, if it may be the will of God that it should be so. I long for the time. Oh ! why is his chariot so long iu coming? Why tarry the wheels of his chariot ?" Being afterwards asked how he did, " I am almost in eternity,'' he answered ; " I long to be there. My work is done. I have done with all my friends. All the world is now nothing to me. Oh to be in heaven, to praise and glorify God with his holy angels! He spoke much of his de- sires and hopes to see in heaven the prosperity of the church of Christ on earth ; much of the importance of the ■work of ministers of the gospel, and prayer for the out- pouring of the Spirit of God upon them to bless and make effectual their labours ; and much of the spiritual prosperity of his own congregation of Christian Indians in New Jersey. In short, his whole conversation was the language of resignation, of trust, and of faith ; full of goodly savour to all who heard it, and worthy to be trans- mitted 264 WATTS. mitted to those who did not. In this happy frame he con- tinued till the day before his death, when the pain of his body overpowered his retiection and reason. This was the comfort he administered to his friends who wept for or lamented him: " We part but for a while; we shall spend an happy eternity together.'" One coming into the room with a Bible in her hand, he cried out, " O that dear book ! that lovely book ! I shall soon see it opened ! the mysteries that are in it, and the mysteries of God's pro- vidence, will all be unfolded." On Thursday, October 6, he lay for a considerable time, as if he were dying; and was heard, at intervals, breaking out into such whispers as these: " He will come: He will not tarry. I shall soon be in glory : Soon be with God and jiis angels." From this time his distress increased more and more; in- somuch that he said, '' It was another thing to die than people imagined:" explaining himself to mean, they were not aware of the bodily pain undergone before death. Yet all the while, as he could, his patience was great ; the comforts and supports of grace were also great : And all of them continued unabating to the last, which was about six oVlock on Friday morning, October 9, 1747, the happy period when he joined the innumerable company of saints above, the general assembly and church of the first-born, God the Judge of all, the spirits of just men made per- fect, and Jesus, the Mediator of that new and better co- venant, which had been all his rejoicing, and all his hope. ISAAC WATTS, D,D. VvNE great object of this compilation is, the illustra- tion of divine grace, in its power and influence uj)on the hearts of men: So that, while we point out the brigiit examples of many eminent Christians, we would be un- derstood not so much to set up men for mere admiration, but to shew what God hath done, in successive genera- tions, for poor sinners like ourselves, that others may be encouraged, according to their measure of the same grace, to follow them who now through faith and patience inherit the promises. Hence, therefore, as we must abhor a mean and invidious detraction, which could only prove that we want either grace or common candour, we would be careful also to avoid the other extreme, from a mind equally devoted to temporal ' ^■^"'■'■■a..J.y,6moJl^-"'''' /rem, in ori,/in,ii /•iVfiir. iii/^r fio/ir/jwn o/'MT-'Alliirv WATTS. 265 temporal views, of sliding into fulsome or swelling pane- gyrics, through any respect that should be entertained for the memories of faithful men. It becomes us, in this case, to consider what the persons we venture to celebrate, would say of us or to us, could they read what fell from our pens, now their spirits are made perfect, and divested of all the vanity and conceit of the llcsh. I believe, they would readily own, with the Apostle, that they were at best but empty vessels in themselves ; that whatever they enjoyed of goodness was entirely out of that Fullness, which Jilkih all in all ; and that, ij/ the grace of God, thei/ tt-cre whatever they were, either in themselves or for others, in point of usefulness and worth. And, in consequence of this acknowledgment, they would be much more ready to chide than to thank us, were we to dignify their persons for public view, and to forget to mention, that they had nothing worth having but what they freely received from their Master. Under this impression of mind, which we would wish never to forget, we shall select, from the va- rious memoirs which have been published of this excellent man, chiefly what has been given by the late Dr. Samuel Johnson, as the most concise, judicious, and candid of any ; to which we will add a few edifying particulars, Avhich, we conceive, cannot but be grateful to our serious readers. ' Isaac Watts (says Dr. Johnson) was born July 17, 1674, at Southampton, where his father, ol the same name, kept a boarding-school for young gentlemen, though com- mon report makes him a shoemaker. He appears, from the narrative of Dr. Gibbons, to have been neitlier indi- gent nor illiterate. Isaac, the eldest of nine children, was given to books from his infancy; and began, we are told, to learn Latin when he was four years old, I suppose at home. He was afterwards taught Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, by Mr. Pinhorne, a clergyman, master of the free-school at Southampton, to whom the gratitude of his scholar afterwards inscribed a Latin Ode. His proficiency at school was so conspicuous, that a subscription was pro- posed for his support at the university ; but he declared bis resolution to take his lot with the JDissenters. Such he was, as every Christian church would rejoice to have adopt- ed. He therefore repaired in 1690 to an academy taught by Mr. Kowe, where he had for his companions and fel- low-students Mr. Hughes the poet, and Dr. Horte, after- wards Archbishop of Tuam. Some Latin Essays, supposed to have been written as exercibes at this academy, shew a degree 26Q WATT S. degree of knowledge, both philosophical and theological, such as very few attain bj a much longer course of study. He was, as he hints in his miscellanies, a maker of verses from fifteen to fifty, and in his youth he appears to have paid attention to Latin poetry. His verses to his brother, in the glyconic measure, written when he was seventeen, are remarkably easy and elegant. Some of his other odes are deformed by the pindaric folly tlien prevailing, and are written with such neglect of all metrical rules as is without example ameng the ancients ; but his diction, though perhaps not always exactly pure, has such co- piousness and splendour, as shews that he was but at a very little distance from excellence. ' His method of study was to impress the contents of his books upon his memory by abridging them, and by inter- leaving them to amplify one system with supplements from another. With the congregation of his tutor Mr. Rowe, who were, I believe, independents, he communicated in his nineteenth year. At the age of twenty he left the academy, and spent two years in study and devotion at the house of his father, who treated him with great ten- derness ; and had the happiness, indulged to few parents, of living to see his son eminent for literature, and vene- rable for piety. He was then entertained by Sir John Hartopp five years, as domestic tutor to his son ; and in that time particularly devoted himself to the study of tlie Holy Scriptures ; and being chosen assistant to Dr. Chauncey, preached the first time on the birth-day that completed his twenty-fourth year; probably considering that as the day of a second nativity, by which he entered on a new period of existence. In about three years, he ■succeeded Dr. Chauncey ; but, soon after his entrance on liis charge, he was seized by a dangerous illness, which sunk him to such weakness, that the congregation thought an assistant necessaiy, and appointed Mr. Price. His health then returned gradually, and he performed his duty, till (1712) he was seized l)y a fever of such violence and continuance, that, from the feebleness which it brought upon him, he never perfectly recovered. This calami- tous state made the compassion of his friends necessary, and drew upon him the attention of Sir Thomas Abney, who received him into his house; where, with a constancy of friendship and uniformity of conduct not often to be found, he was treated for thirty-six years with all the kindness that friendship could prompt, and all the attention ihat respect could dictate. Sir Thomas died about eight years WAT T S. 267 years afterwards ; but he continued wltli the lady and her dau^fhters to the end of his life. The lady died about a year after him. ' A coalition like this, a state in which the notions of patronage and dependence were overpowered by the per- ception of reciprocal benefits, deserves a particular me- morial; and I will not withhold Irom the reader Dr. Gibbon's represenialion, to which regard is to be paid as to the narrative of one who writes what he knows, and what is known likewise to multitudes besides. ' Our next observation (says Dr. Gibbons) shall be made upon that remarkably kind providence which brought the Doctor into Sir Thomas Abncy's family, andcontinued him there till his death, a period of no less than thirty-six years. In the midst of his sacred labours for the glory of God, and the good of his generation, he is seized with a most violent and threatening ievcr, which leaves him oppressed with great weakness, and puts a stop at least to his public ser- vices for four years. In this distressing season, doubly so to his active and pious spirit, he is invited to Sir Thomas Abney's family, nor ever removes from it, till he had finished his days. Here he enjoyed the uninterrupted de- monstrations of the truest friendship. Here, without any care of his own, he had every thing which could contri- bute to the enjoyment of life, and favour the unwearied pursuit of his studies. Here he dwelt in a family which for piety, order, harmony, and every virtue, was an house of God. Here he had the privilege of a, country i'ecess, the pure air, the retired grove, the fragrant bower, the spreading lawn, the flowery garden, and other advantages to soothe his mind, and aid his restoration to health, to yield him, whenever he chose them, most grateful intervals from his laborious studies, and enable him to return to them with redoubled vijjour and delight. Had it not been for this most happy event, he might, as to outward view, have feebly, it may be, painfully, dragged on through many more years of langour and inability for public service, and even for profitable study, or perhaps might have sunk into his grave under the overwhelming load of infirmities in the midst of his days ; and thus the church and world would have been deprived of those many excellent sermons and works, which he drew up and published during his long residence in this family. In a few years after his coming hither Sir Thomas Abney dies, but his amiable consort sur- vives, who shews the Doctor the same resj)ect and friend- ship asbeforcjandmost happily for him, and great numbers besides ; 268 WATTS. besides ; for as Tier riches were great, her generosity and munificence were in full proportion, her thread of life was drawn out to a great age, even beyond that of the Doc- tor''s, and thus this excellent man tbi'ough her kindness, and that of her daughter, the present Mrs. Elizabeth Abney, who in a like degree esteemed and honoured him, enjoyed all the benefits and felicities he experienced at his first entrance into this family, till his days were num- bered and finished, and, like a shock of corn in its season, he ascended into the regions of perfect and immortal life and joy.] ' If this quotation (says Dr. Johnson) has appeared long, let it be considered that it comprises an account of six-and- tijirty years, and those the years of Dr. Watts. From the time of his reception into this family, his life was no other- wise diversified than by successive publications. The series of his works I am not able to deduce ; their number, and their variety, shew the intenseness of his industry, and the extent of his capacity. He was one of the first authors that taught the Dissenters to court attention by the graces of language. Whatever they had among them before, whe- ther of learning or acuteness, was commonly obscured and blunted by coarseness, and inelegance of style. He shewed them, that zeal and purity might be expressed and enforced by polished diction. He continued to the end of his life the teacher of a congregation, and no reader of his works can doubt his fidelity or diligence. In the pulpit, though his low stature, which very little exceeded five feet, graced him with no advantages of appearance, yet the gravity and propriety of his utterance made his discourses very efllicacious. I once mentioned the repu- tation which Mr. Foster had gained by his proper delivery to my friend Dr. Hawkesworth, who told me, that in the art of pronunciation he was far inferior to Dr. Watts. Such was his flow of thoughts, and such his promptitude of language, that in the latter part of his life he did not precompose his cursory sermons; but having adjusted the heads, and sketched out some particulars, trusted for suc- cess to his extemporary power. He did not endeavour to assist his eloquence by any gesticulations ; for, as no cor- j)oreal actions have any correspondence with theological truth, he did not see how they could enforce it. At the conclusion of weighty sentences he gave time, by a short pause, for the proper impression. To stated and public instruction he added familiar visits and personal applica- tion, and was careful to improve tlie opportunities which conversation WATTS. 2f)9 conversation offered, of diffusing and increasing the in- fluence of religion. ' By his natural temper he was quick of resentment ; but, by his established and habitual j)racticc, he was gentle, modest, and inoffensive. His tenderness apj)eared in his attention to children, and to the poor. To the poor, while he lived in the family of his friend, he allowed the third part of his annual revenue, though the whole was not an hundred a-year ; and for children, he condescended to lay aside the scholar, the philosopher, and the wit, to write little poems of devotion, and systems of instruc- tion, adapted to their wants and capacities, from the dawn of reason through its gradations of advance in the morn- ing of life. Every man acquainted with the connnon principles of human action, will look with veneration on the wi'iter, who is at one time combating Locke, and at an- other making a catechism for children in their fourth year. A voluntary descent fi'om the dignity of science, is per- haps the hardest lesson that humility can teach. As his mind was capacious, his curiosity excursive, and his in- dustry continual, his writings are very numerous, and his subjects various. With his theological works I am only enough acquainted to admire his meekness of opposition, and his mildness of censure. It was not only in his book, but in his mind, that orthodoxy was united with charity. Of his philosophical pieces, his logic has been received into the universities, and therefore wants no private re- commendation : If he owes part of it to Le Clerc, it must be considered that no man, who undertakes merely to me- thodize or illustrate a system, pretends to be its author. In his metaphysical disquisitions, it was observed by the late learned jMr. Uyer, that he confounded the idea of space with that o^ cmpti/ space, and did not consider, that .though space might be without matter, yet matter being extended, could not be without space. Few books have been perused by me with greater pleasure than his " Im- provement of the Mind," of v/hich the radical principles may indeed be found in Locke's ' Conduct of the Under- standing ;' but they are so expanded and ramified by Watts, as to confer upon him the merit of a work in the highest degree useful and pleasing. Whoever has the care of in- structing others, may be charged with deficiency in his duty, if this book is not recomriiended. ' I have mentioned his treatises of theology as distinct from his other productions ; but the truth is, that what- ever he took in hand was, by his incessant solicitude for souls. 270 WATTS. souls, converted to theology. As piety predominated iit his mind, it is diftused over his works : Under his direc- tion, it may be truly said, TheologiiC PhUosophif' ancillaltit\ philosophy is subservient to evangelical instruction ; it is difficult to read a page without learning, or at least wish- ing, to be better. The attention is caught by indirect instruction, and he that sat down only to reason, is on a sudden compelled to pray. It was therefore with great propriety that, in 1728, he received from Edinburgh and Aberdeen an unsolicited diploma, by which he became a doctor of divinity. Academical honours would have more value, if they were always bestowed with equal judg- ment.'' ' It is not often possible to bestow them with equal pro- priety ; for men like Dr. Watts the Christian world doth not often enjoy. It is, however, a true observation, made by another writer (Mr. Toplady) upon this article, that * Learned seminaries would retrieve the departing respec- tability of their diplomas, were they only presented to (I will not say such men as Dr. Watts, for few such men are in any age to be found ; but to) persons of piety, ortho- doxy, erudition, and virtue.'' The presenting such titles to people, who either can pay for them, or whose silly vanity prompts them to have their names ushered in with a sound, without any just qualification in the world beside, exposes the honours of a university to contempt, and the persons who bear them to ridicule. The name of Doctor, though it cannot make a man intuitively learned or wise, should give the world a just expectation not to find him at least either weak or illiterate. ' He continued many years to study and to preach, and to do good by his instruction and example ; till at last the infirmities of age disabled him from the more laborious part of his ministerial functions, and, being no longer capable of public duty, he offered to remit the salary appendant to it, but his congregation would not accept the resignation. Ey degrees his weakness increased, and at last confined him to his chamber and his bed, where he Avas worn gra- dually away without pain, till he expired November 25, 1748, in the seventy-fifth year of his age. Few men have left him such purity of character, or such monu- ments of laborious piety. He has provided instruction for all ages, from those who are lisping their first lessons, to the enlightened readers of INIalebranche and Locke ; he has left neither corporeal nor spiritual nature unexamined 5 he has taught the art of reasoning, and the science of the «tars. WATTS. 271 stars. His character, therefore, must be formed from the multiplicity and diversity of his attainments, rather than from any single performance ; for it would not be safe to claim for him the highest rank in any single denomination of literary dignity; yet perhaps there was nothing in which he would not have excelled, if he had not divided his powers to different pursuits. As a poet, had he been only a poet, lie would probably have stood iiigh among the authors with whom he is now associated ; [i. e. among the poets, the lives of whom, almost every body knows, Dr. Johnson has most elegantly written.] For his judgment was exact, and he noted beauties and faults with very nice discern- ment ; his imagination, as the " Dacian Battle" proves, was vigorous and active, and the stores of knowledge were large by which his fancy was to be supplied. His ear was well-tuned, and his diction was elegant and copious. But his devotional poetry is, like that of others, unsatisfac- tory. The paucity of its tojiics enforces perpetual repe- tition, and the sanctity of the matter rejects the orna- ments of figurative diction. It is sufficient for Watts to have done better than others, what no man has done well.' This must be read awi grano salis, considering, who wrote this life, and for whose perusal it was chiefly written. That it is impossible for language so to ornament divino truths, as to make them acceptable to an ungodly world, is too serious a fact to be disputed ; but that divine truths are without beauty, or the most sublime and enrapturing beauty, can only be aflirmed by those who have no spi- ritual eyes to see, or gracious hearts to enjoy them. IJr. Johnson unhappily wrote for those, who understand the language and the arts of men more than the voice and the things of God : Otherwise he too would have confessed, that there is more sublimity, excellence, and glory, of all kinds, in one page of Isaiah, than in all the writings of the poets he collected, or could have collected from the ancient heathen or modern world; A critic, who may be learned in all books but one — I mean the Bible, may affect to smile at sucli a remark ; but nevertheless there is no hazard of breaking truth in making it, that the first poem which ever appeared on earth, I mean that in the 15th chapter of Exodus, has more real majesty, beauty, force, and propriety in it, than all that lying Greece or brutal Home, or any other country or age, have ever produced ; and I may add, it is celebrated by more competent judges, and n'ill last infinitely longer ; for it is sung by spirits per- fectly 27^ WATTS. fectly enlightened, and will be sung by them throughout eternity. And they sing the sovg of Moses the servant of GoD^ and the song of the Lamb, aaijins. Great ami viarvel- lous are thy works. Lord God Ahnighlj/ ; just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints. Rev. xv, 3. * His poems on other subjects seldom rise higher than might be expected from tlie amusements of a man of letters, and have different degrees of value as they are more or less laboured, or as l!ie occasion was more or less favourable to invention. He writes too often without re- gular measures, and too often in blank verse ; the rhymes are not always sufficiently correspondent. He is pariicu- larly unhappy in coining names expressive of characters. His lines are conmionly smooth and easy, and his thoughts always religiously pure ; but who is there that, to so much piety and innocence, does not wish for a greater measure of sprightliness and vigour .'' He is at. least one of the few poets with whom youth and ignorance may be safely pleased ; and happy will be that reader, whose mind is disposed, by his verses or his prose, to imitate him in all but his nonconformity, to copy his benevolence to man, and his reverence to God.' Thus far Doctor Johnson. But, glad as we are to consult brevity in our accounts of gracious persons, in order to admit as many as possible? within the prescribed limits of our work, we cannot dis- miss this article, without a few edifying additions to the memorial of this excellent man. What some critics have observed upon the most valuable circumstance of his cha- racter, which they have been pleased to style, ' the en- thusiasm of his heart, operating on a fanatical creed, which hurried him too often into extravagance and absur- dity,' only proves, that they are not blessed with a mind like his, capable of understanding the same intellectual good, and that consequently they are too incompetent to decide upon what is so much above them. Whatever rises in the least degree above earth and sensual comprehension, is to men, who know no happiness (if it deserve the name) but what comes from earth, altogether fanatical, enthusiastic, and absurd. The logic of their decision is, * We know it not, tiierefore it is not to be knovvn ; we feel no influence of grace, therefore there is none ; therefore it is all chimera ; therefore we have a right to ridicule.' But, omitting the retlections of men, whose absurdities are more dangerous to themselves than preju- dicial to the cause of truth, we subjoin a few of the dying sayings WATT S. 273 Sayings of this blessed man, which were preserved and com- municated to the world bj Dr. Jennings, who preached his funeral sermon, aliout a fortnight after the body had been interred at Bunhill Fields. *' I bless God,"" says he, '' I can lie down with comfort at night, unsolicitous wliether I wake in this world or anotlier!'''' His faith in the promises was lively and unshaken: " I believe them enough to ven- ture an eternity on them!" Once, to a religious friend, he cxi)ressed himself thus : " I remember, an aged minister used to say, that the most learned and knowing Christi- ans, when they come to die, have only the same plain px'o- liiises for their support, as the common and unlearned. And so (continued the Doctor) I find it. It is the plain" pi-omises of the gospel that are my support: And, I bless God, they are plain promises, which do not require much labour and pains to understand them : For I can do no- thing now, but look into my Bible, for some promise to support me, and live upon that." On feeling any tempta- tions to complain, he would remark, " The business of a Christian is, to bear the will of God, as well as to do it. If I were in health, I could only be doing that : And that I may do now. The best thing in obedience is, a regard to the will of God : And the way to that, is to get our in- clinations and aversions as much mortified as we can." If our readers wish to read a more prolix account of the Doctor and his writings, we must refer them to the me- moirs drawn up by Di\ Gibbons, to which are added se- veral valuable letters written to him by his friends, among which were the late Dr. Seeker, Archbishop of Canter- bury, Dr. Hart, Archbishop of Tuam, Dr. Gibson, Bishop of London, Lady Hartford, (afterwards Duchess of So- merset) the first Lord Barrington, Mr. Hervey, &c. His Works. " I. Sermons on various Subjects, divine and moral, with a sacred Hymn suited to each suhject. II. A Guide to Prayer, &c. III. The Cluistian Doctrine of the Trinity, &c. Vindicated by plain Evidence of Scrip- ture, witliout the Aid or Incumbrance of human schemes. IV. Seven Dissertations relating to the Christian Doctrine of the Trinity, in two parts. V. Death and Heaven, or the last Enemy Conquered, and separate Spirits made perfect; attempted in t^fo funeral discourses in memory of Sir John Hartopp, Baronet, and his lady. VI. A De- fence against the Temptations to Self-murder, &c. toge- ther with some Reflections on excess in strong Liquors, Duelling, and other Practices akin to this heinous Sin. VII. A Caveat against Infidelity, or the Danger of Apos- VOL. I\-. T tasy, 274 WATTS. tasy from the Clirlstlan Faith ; with an Answer to some Queries concerning the Salvation of the Heathens, and the Hope of the modern Deists upon Pretences to Sincerity. YIII. The Strength and AVeakness of Human Reason to conduct Mankind to Religion and future Happiness, ar- gued between an inquiring Deist and a Christian Divine. IX. An humble attempt towards the Revival of practical Religion among Christians, &c. by a serious Address to Ministers and People, in some occasional Discourses. X. Discourses on the Love of God. XI. The Redeemer and the Sanctifier, &c. represented in a friendly conversation between persons of difierent sentiments. XII. The Ho- liness of Times, Places, and People, under the Jewish and Christian Dispensations considered and compared in several discourses, on the Sabbath, the temple, churches, meeting- houses, Sec. XIII. A Book of Catechisms, complete, con- taining five parts; to which is added a large catalogue of re- markable scripture names collected for the use of children, XIV. Prayers composed for the use and imitation of chil- dren, suited to their different ages, &c. and a serious address to them on that subject. XV. A short View of the Whole Scripture History, with a continuation of the Jewish af- fairs from the end of the Old Testament to the coming of Christ. XVI. Humility represented in the character of St. Paul. XVII. Self-love and Virtue reconciled only by Religion, &c. together with an occasional proof of the necessity of Revelation. XVIII. The World to come, or Discourses on the Joys and Sorrows of departed Souls at Death, and the Glory or Terror of the Resurrection, to which is prefixed an Essay towards the proof of a sepa- rate state of souls after death. XIX. The Ruin and Re- covery of mankind, &c. To which are subjoined Three short Essays, namely, the Proof of Man''s Fall by his Mi- sery ; the Imputation of Sin and Righteousness ; and the Guilt and Defilement of Sin. XX. The Harmony of all the Religions which God ever prescribed, &c. XXI. Orthodoxy and Charity imited, in several reconciling Es- says on the Law and Gospel, Faith and Works. XXII. The Rational Foundation of a Christian Church, and the Terms of Christian Communion ; to which are added Three Discourses, namely, A Pattern for a Dissenting Preacher; the Office of Deacons; and Invitations to Church-fellowship. XXIII. Useful and important Ques- tions concerning Jesus the Son freely proposed ; with an humble attempt to answer them according to Scripture. XXIV. The Glory of Christ as God-Man, displayed in three WATT S. 275 three discourses ; with an Appendix containing an Abridgement of Doctor Tiiomas Godwin's Discourse of the ' Glories ami Royalties of Christ," in his works in fo- lio, vol. ii. B. 3. XX V. Evangelical Discourses on se- veral Subjects; to wiiich is added an Essay on the Powers and Contests of Flesh and Spirit. XXV'I. A Sermon preached at Salter's Hall to the Societies for Reformation of Manners in the Cities of liOndon and Westminster, Oc- tober G, 1707. XXVII. The religious Improvement of Public Events, a sermon preached at Bury Street, June 18, 17"i7, on occasion of the death of King George I. and the peaceful succession of King George II. XXVIII. Nine Sermons in tiie Bury Street collection of discourses preach- ed by several ministers. XXIX. Questions proper for Stu- dents in Divinity, Candidates of the Ministry, and young Christians, to be proposed to them by themselves or others. XXX. A Short Essay towards the Improvement of Psal- mody, or an Inquiry how the Psalms of David ought to be translated into Christian songs, and how lawful and ne- cessary it is to compose other hymns according to the clear- er revelation of tbe Gospel, for the use of the Christian church. XXXI. Hor^e Li/ric<£ ; Poems chiefly of the Lyric kind., in three books. XXXII. The Psalms of David imitated in the language of the New Testament, and applied to the Christian state and worship. XXXIII. Hymns and Spiritual Songs, in three books. XXXIV. Divine Songs, attempted in easy Language for the Use of Children. XXXV. Logic, or the Right Use of Reason in the Inquiry after Truth XXXVI. The Improve- ment of the Mind, or a Supplement to the Art of Logic, in two parts. N. B. The two parts are in two volumes. XXXVII. A Discourse on the Education of Children and Youth. XXXVIII. The Knowledge of the Heavens and the Earth made easy, or the first Principles of Astro- nomv and Geography explained by the Use of the Globes and Maps ; with a solution of the common problems by a plain scale and compasses as well as by the globe Writ- ten for the use of learners. XXXIX. Philosophical Es- says on various Subjects, &c. with some Remarks on Mr. Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding. To which is subjoined a brief Scheme of Ontology, or the Science of Being in general, with its affections. XL. Ihe Art of Rea(iing and Writing English, &c. with a variety of in- structions for true sptdling. XLI. The Doctrine of the Passions exjilained and improved. XLII. Kcliquio' Juve- niles ; Miscellaneous Thoughts in Prose and Verse on Na- tural, Moral, and Divine Subjects ; written chiefly in yguiiger 276 W A T T S. younger years. XLIII. Remnants of Time employed in Frose and Verse, or short Essays and Composures on va- rious Subjects. XLIV. An Essay on the Freedom of the Will in God and in Creature, and on various subjects connected therewith. XLV. An Essay on Civil Power in Things sacred. XLVI. An Essay towards the Encou- ragement of Charity-Schools, particularly those which are supported by Protestant Dissenters, for teaching the chil- dren of the poor to read and work, &c. to which is pre- fixed an Address to the supporters of those schools.''' A collection of poems was published, a few years since, with the title of the ' Doctor's Posthumous Works,' which are considered very justly as generally spurious and un- worthy of the Doctor. There is so just and seasonable a remark, made by a per- son in a class of life, now unhappily very little dignified with religion, in a letter to our author, that we wish to recommend its considei'ation to every lover of the Bible ; and the more so, as it is a very ignorant as well as a very prevailing sentiment at this day, that we have nothing to do with the Old Testament, but that all our attention should be confined to the New. ' Rev. Sir, Becket House, Feb. 4, 1731. ' At last I have received the kind present [Dr. Watts's " View of the whole Scripture History"] you so long since ordered me. I have read it over, and looked over some parts of it again. I shall lay it in my nursery, hall, and parlour, and keej) it in my study. I think it a book that will be very instructive and entertaining to people of all ages and conditions. You know I am very much for the whole Bible's being looked through, and not one part of it only; or even the New Testament alone in prejudice of the rest. I think you have done very good service in giving us the Apocryphal history, as a part of the account of God's transactions with his people. But, after sayings this, I must own to you I could have wished you had made your sections, especially at the beginning, not bare- ly as historical ones, but with a view to the diflTerent dis- pensations of God to mankind, (I mean in that part of the book before the law) though still preserving the order of the Bible. The breaks that arise from that considera- tion, are what are most likely to lead us into the true know- ledge of the Bible. Without them, the history of the Bi- ble will be little more than the amusement of other histo- ries. I am, Sir, your very faithful humble servant, ' Barrington.' H A K R I S 0 N. §77 JOHN HARRISON, A.M. ITaE was pastor of a congregation at Weathersfield in Essex, and died about the year 1749. In a sermon preach- ed upon that occasion by the Reverend Mr. Thomas Da- vidson of Braintree, we have au account of his character in life, and triumph in death. He was a man of bright natural parts, much improved. He made great proficiency in study at the University of Glasgow, I'rom which he received his degree of master of arts. As a Christian, he was remarkably holy, tender, and circumspect; in all things shewing himself a pattern of good works. He was a close, humble walker with God, being in an uncommon measure exercised unto godliness ; and this made him love, and strictly practise, the duties of the study and closet. As a minister, he shone with a peculiar lustre ;■ preaching his sermons to himself in pi'ivate, before he delivered them in public to others ; and in them was a workman that needed not to he ashamed, right!)/ dividing the word of truth. As he was pleasant and desirable in life, he seemed still more so at death : For he shone out brightly to the last, and, like the sun in a calm serene evening, set without a cloud. He had a full and unshaken assu'ance of his in- terest in the love of God, and clear manifestations of that love to his soul ; which made his expressions of it, on his death-bed, ravishing to all his Christian friends who visited him. With what pleasure and joy did he often utter such expressions as these : " Oh, I long to be gone ! I long to be gone, and to be freed from sin and sorrow ! I long to be where Jesus is, to see him as he is ! I long to put oil" this mortal body ; that mortality may be swallowed up of life! Oh, I would not return again to this world; it is indeed cabal, a dirty and unpleasant world ! I shall soon be in that shining world, in Emanuefs land, where glory dwells for evermore. His love has left a pertume, a sweet savour in my heart ; and eternity itself will be too short to praise him. Oh, what a covenant, what a rock have we to rest upon! How firm it is! Oh what comtbrts, what consolations, have I had from it ! With such joy as this methinks I could bear the burning of this fever throughout eternity, and aot feel it I I know that my Redeemer liveth J 278 HARRISON, liveth ! this is glory begun ! I am filled with God. Oh, how faithful is Gou ! He has said to nie, that he would satisfy me with life, and I am fully satisfied. I want no- thing but to have the clay walls of this body broken down. Oh, I never saw so much as I do now ! I want a whole eternity to praise V When first taken iil of the fever, he told his friends, he apprehended it would issue in death, and gave this reason for it, That, for some months past, he had had so much of God in secret, that he never met with any thing like it. He particularly mentioned how much Dr. Owen'^s declaration of the glorious mystery of the person of Christ, Gon and man, had been blessed to him; especially the last chapter of that book concerning the ex- ercise of the mediatory office of Christ in heaven, and the state of the worship there. When he spoke of that sub- ject, it was with such elevation and fervour of spirit, as almost overpowered nature. He often remarked, with much pleasure, his spending the week before he was taken ill among his people, conversing with them about the state of their souls ; and then found, to his unspeakable joy, that upwards of twenty persons, he hoped, liad of Iste been savingly wrought upon under his m.inistry. This made him cry out, " Oh, amazing! that I should be ho- noured to be in any measure useful in the church of Christ.*" Of his people he frequently spoke with warmth and af- fection, saying, " Oh my little flock ! Nothing in this world is so near my heart as that handful of people to whom I stand related. Oh, Sir, (said he to Mr. Davidson) let that little flock have a place near your heart." Some time before he died, he said to one^ " Oh, the amazing, the astonishing, the inconceivable glory of the other world ! what discoveries have I had of it this day ! I long, I long to 1)6 there ! I must have an eternity to praise ! Oh, the unspeakable, the substantial joys I feel ! My life is hid with Christ in God." To another, a little before his departure, " I am just ready to join the ge- neral assembly and church of the first-born ; I am just ready to shout the victory! I beseech thee, O Lord, shew me thy glory !" These and many other such sweet and gracious expressions dropped from him during liis ill- ness, which might have been increased, had not his friends often' interrupted him, desiring he would spare himself, and not speak so much. One thing, however, was re- markable : Though his fever was a very bad one, and he a strong robust man, full of flesh and blood, yet it never once seized liis head, or impaired his judgment ; but he had E. E R S Iv I N E. 279 had the full exercise of liis understanding and speech to the last ; and he was enabled to make a most happy and triumphant use of them to his Redeemer's glory. Such living deaths are enough to cause the Balaams of every age to cry out, Let vie die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his ! EBENEZER ERSKINE. 1 HIS pious minister was the son of the Reverend Mr, Henry Ersldne of Shielfield, in the county of Merse, in Scotland, who was one of the three-and-thirty children of Ralph Erskine, descended from the noble family of Mar. This Henry Erskine, being settled in Northumberland^ was one of the ejected ministers by the act of uniformity, and died in 1096, aged seventy -two. Mr. Ebenezer Ez'skine was born about the year 1G80, ordained in 1703, and settled at Stirling in 1731. In April 1732, being chosen moderator of the Synod of Perth, he preached a sermon from Psalm cxviii. 22. The stone which the builders refused is become the head-stone of the corner. In this discourse, he took so much freedom with an act made by the last assembly of the synod, empowering the majo- rity of landholders and lay elders to have a decisive power of electing and calling ministers, upon no otlier limitation but that of being Protestants, and excluding heads of infe- rior families from their votes, that it gave great oflence. The members of the assembly, who had carried that mea- sure, being the majority, proceeded to a censure upon him lor his sermon ; from which he appealed to the next gene- ral assembly of the church of Scotland ; who, in the I'ol- lovving year, approved the censure, and appointed jNIr. Erskine to be reprimanded at their own bar. Against tiiis also Mr. Erskine protested, as a censure passed uj»on him for maintaining the truth of Gou and theaj)proved stand- ards of the Scottish church ; and to this protest three otlier ministers set their hands. This so oiVended the assembly, that they first suspended, and (upon their non-submission) afterwards expelled them from their ministerial functions. The offensive words were these : " The said prevailing party are carrying on a course of defection from our re- formed principles ; and particularly, are suppressing minis- terial freedom and faithfulness, in testifying against the present backslidings of the churchj and inflicting censures vpo^ 280 R. E R S K I N E. upon ministers, for witnessing, by protestations and other- wise, against the same." — Thus began the famous Secession (as it was called) trom the Church, or ruling membei's of the Church of Scotland. Mr. Erskine lived many years after this affair, and ga- thered a numerous congregation at Stirling, amongst whom he laboured till his death, which occurred on the 2d of June 1754', in the seventy-fourth year of his age, and fifty-first of his ministry. RALPH ERSKINE, A.M. Ml .11. RALPH was younger brother to Mr. Ebenezer Erskine. and was born at Monilaws in Northumberland, March 1.5th, 1685. After going through the usual course at Edinburgh, he was at length ordained at Dunfermline on tile 7th of August 1711. Here he laboured several years with great zeal and success, performing his public duties with much ability, and the private visitations of his flock with diligent faithfulness. He went from house to house, warning and watching. Upon the controversy which arose about the year 1720, respecting the republication of a book entitled ' The Mar- row of Modern Divinity,' which at length was condemned by the General Assembly, our Author, with twelve others, conceiving some important and evangelical truths to be struck at by their censure, thought it a duty to remon- strate. Remonstrances of this kind are usually in vain. Unless where Providence remarkably interposes, seldom will private men publicly own themselves mistaken, large bodies never. The assembly, instead of retracting, con- firmed their ovim acts ; and Mr. Ralph, with others, went into the Secession already established by his brother. Some readers might wish to know, that this book of the ' MarroWj &c.' was written u})on strict Calvinistic prin-» ciples ; and that the Seceders accused the rulers in the church of verging towards Neonomian, or Scmi-Arminian principles. Our author, with many others, preached and wrote with great fervour in this unhappy controversy. We wish to pass over in silence the dislike which the Secession expressed, about the year 1742, upon the subject of the revival of the power of the gospel, which then ap- peared at Cambuslang, Dr. Gillies, in his life of Mr. Whitefield, R. E R S K I N E. 281 Whitefield, liath stated the matter at large. The difFer- ences of good men are never to be mentioned but with sorrow. The Secession thought Mr. Whitefield too lax in his principles respecting outward church government: And, most certainly, he did not care i'or all the outward church government in the world, if men were not brought really to the knowledge of God and themselves. Pre- lacy and presbytery were indeed matters of indifference to a man, who wished ' the whole world to be his diocese' and that men of all denoininalions might be brought to a real acquaintance with Jesus Christ — However these good men might differ here, they are now perfectly agreed upon all things. About the year 1746, another Secession, or rather Sub- secession, was formed from that already established, upon a nice distinction in burgess oaths; to recount which will afford but little edification to serious readers, and but small gratification to sensible readers. Raging refor- mations are not gracious reformations. God's ^vork is seldom, if ever, truly performed, by the bigotry, fury, or passions of men. Our Author's pen was much engaged in this affair, and it evidently affected his spirits. He speaks of it with con- cern and emotion. " Our first constitution (says he, meaning the first Secession) was the fruit and effect of our being separated from our brethren, who thrust us out from their ministerial communion. But this new consilulion was the effect and consequent of our brethren's .scjjara^j??^ themselves. We find in Scripture, a wide difference be- twixt a passive and an active separation from churcli-com- munion. We see a blessing resting on the head of theni who have been separated from tiieir brethren, but a note of ignominy upon tiiose that wilfully separate themselves, Jude ver. 19. — The fruit o{ owr first constitution, was the joy of all the friends of the covenanted reformation ; but the fruit of this new pretended constitutioH^ is the sad- dening of the hearts of the Lord's remnant every where. — The fruit of our first constitution, was the gathering of the Lord's remnant into one ; but the fruit of the se- cond, is the rending and breaking them to pieces." This valual)le minislercontinuedhislabours of preaching and writing till almost the time of his dcatli, which oc- curred on the Gth of November 1752, in the sixty-eighth year of his age. He was buried at Dunfermline. He published many sermons and controversial tracts, chiefly relating to the Secession; and ids Gospel Sonnets and other poems are well known both in England and Scotland ^82 DODDRIDGE. Scotland. They breathe a warm spirit of piety, though they cannot be mentioned as finished poetical composi- tions. He left a large family, three sons of which were minis- ters of the Secession, but died in the prime of life. PHILIP DODDRIDGE, D.D. X HIS eminent Divine was the son of Daniel Doddridge, an oilman in London, where he was born June the 26th, 1702. He was the twentieth and last child of his parents : The rest, except one daughter, died very young, He was brought up in the early knowledge of religion by his pious parents, but was first initiated in the elements of the learned languages under one Mr. Stott, a minister, who taught a private school in London. In the year 1712, he was removed to Kingston upon Thames. About the time of his father's death, which happened in the year 1715, he was removed to a private school at St. Albans, under the care of a worthy and learned master, Mr. Nathaniel Wood. Here he happily commenced an acquaintance with Dr. Samuel Clark, minister of the dissentingcongregation there, who became not only the instructor of iiis youth in the principles of religion, but his guardian whe]]^ helpless orphan, and a generous and faithful friend in all his ad- vancing years ; for, by his own and his friends' contribu- tion, he furnished him with means to pursue his studies. The Duchess of Bedford, being informed of his circum- stances, character, and strong inclination to Itarning, by his uncle Philip Doddridge, then steward to. that noble family, made him an offer, that, if he chose to be educated lor the ministry of the church of England, and wotild go to either of its universities, she would su})port the ex- pence of his education ; and, if she should live till he had taken orders, Avould provide for him iu the church. This ])roposal he received with the warmest gratitude, but in the most respectful manner declined it ; as he could not then satisfy his conscience to comply with the terms of ministerial conformity. Yet he continued for some time in great distress from an apprehension, that he should not be able to prosecute his studies for the ministry : And Dr. Edmund Calamy, whom he consulted, increased his afflic- tion DODDRIDGE. 283 tion, by advising him to turn his thoughts to some other profession. Accordingly, he actually was engaging him- self in the study of the law, when his friend, Dr. Clark, hearing of his difficulties, generously offered to remove them. In October 1719, he was placed under the tuition of the Reverend Mr. John Jennings, who kept an academy at Kibworth in Leicestershire, a gentleman of great learning and piety ; and, during the course of his studies at this place, he was noted for his diligent application to his pro- per business, serious spirit, and extraordinary care to im- prove his talents. He was first settled as a minister at Kibworth, where he preached to a small congregation in an obscure village, and where he had much time to apply himself to study, which he did with indefatigable industry. On j\Ir. Jennings's death, he succeeded to the care of his academy, and soon after was called to the care of a large dissenting congregation, whither lie carried his academy; and the nundjer of his pupils increased. Here and at Market Harborough just by, and lastly at Northampton, he spent his life, in his closet, in his academy, and in his congregation. He died at Lisbon, where lie went for the recovery of his health, on the 26th of October 1751, in the fiftieth year of his age: And his remains were inter- red in the burying-ground belonging to the British factory there. A handsome monument was erected to his memory in his meeting place at Northampton, at the expence of the congregation. As to his person, he was rather above the middle stature, extremely thin and slender: He had a very remarkable sprightliness and vivacity in his counte- nance and manner, whicli commanded attention both in jirivate and in the pulpit. He left one son and three daughters behind him, as well as an excellent and afTec- tionate wife their mother, who accompanied him to Lis- bon. It was very much to the honour of a minister of the established church, that the Doctor was enabled to make this voyage in point of expence: And it would be very much to the comfort as well as credit both of churchmen and dissenters, if they entertained the same catholic re- gard which the Doctor had to good men of all persuasions. Mr. Job Orton, who hath drawn up an excellent ac- count of his life at large, relates many very edifying pas- sages concerning the IJoctor's studies, engagements, and conduct, which cannot fail of giving satisfaction to every pious reader. Speaking of him, in his ministerial office, Mr. Orton says, ' That the vital truths of the gospel, and its gSt DODDRIDGE. its duties, as enforced by them, were his favourite topics, He considered himself as a minister of the gospel, and therefore, could not satisfy himself without preaching Christ and him crncijitd. He never puzzled his hearers with dry criticisms and abstruse disquisitions; nor con- tented himself with moral essays and philosophical ha- rangues, vi'ith which the buiic of hi? auditory would have been unaffected and unedified. He thought it cruelty to God's children to give them stones, when they came for bread. " It is my desire, saith he, not to entertain an au- ditory with pretty lively things, which is comparatively easy, but to come close to their consciences, to awaken them to a real sense of their spiritual concerns, to bring them to Gou, and keep them continually near to him ; which, to me at least, is an exceeding hard thing." He seldom meddled with controversial points in the pulpit ; never vv'ith those, with which he might reasonably sup- pose his congregation was unacquainted ; nor set himself to confute errors, with which they were in no danger of being infected. When his subject naturally led him to mention some writers, from whom he differed, he spoke of them and their works with candour and tenderness ; appealing constantly to the Scri}>tures, as the standard by which all doctrines are to be tried. He shewed his hear- ers of how little importance most of the differences be- tween Protestants are, and chose rather to be a healer of breaches than to widen them. He always spoke with abhorrence of passionately inveighing against our brethren in the pulpit, and making Christian ordinances the vehi- cle of malignant passions. He thought this equally af- fronting to God and pernicious to men ; poisoning instead of feeding ihe sheep of Christ.'' Viewing his conduct as a tutor, we are told, that one of the first things he expected of ihis pupils, was to leain Hich's short hand, which he wrote himself, and in which his lectures were written; that they might transcribe them, make extracts from the books they read and consulted, with ease and speed, and save themselves many houns in their future compositions. Care was taken in the first year of their course, that they should retain and improve that knowledge of Greek and Latin which they had ac- quired at school, and gain such knowledge of Hebrew, if they had not learnt it before, that they might be able to read the Old Testament ; a care very important and ne- cessary to this end. Besides tiie course of lectures in a morning, classical lectures Avero read every evening, ge- nerally DODDRIDGE. 285 rally by his assistant, ])ut sometimes by himself. If any of iiis pupils were deficient in their knowledge of Greek, the seniors, who were best skilled in it, were appointed to instruct them at other times. Those of them who chose it, were also taught French. Systems of logic, rhetoric, geography, and metaphysics, were read during tiie first year of their course, and they were referred to particular passages in other authors upon these subjects, which illus- trated the points on whicli the lectures had turned. To these were added lectures on the princij)les of geometry and algebra. After these studies were finished, they were introduced to the knowledge of trigonometry, conic sec- tions, and celestial mechanics. A system of natural and experimental philosoj)hy, comprehending mechanics, sta- tics, hydrostatics, pneumatics, and astronomy, was read to them, with references to the best authors on these sub- jects. This system was illustrated by a neat and pretty large philosophical apparatus, part of which was the gift of some of his friends, and the remainder purchased by a small contribution from each of the students, at his en- trance on that branch of science. Some other articles were touched upon, especially history, natural and civil; as the students proceeded in their course, in order to en- large their understandings, and give them venerable ideas of tlie works and providence of Gon. A distinct view of the human body was given them, as it tended to pro- mote their veneration and love for the great Architect of this amazing frame, whose wonders of providential influ- ence also are so apparent in its support, nourishment, and motion ; and all concurred to render them agreeable and useful in conversation, and to subserve their honourable appearance in the ministry. A large system of Jewish antiquities, whicii their tutor liad drawn up, was read to them in the later years of their course, in order to illustrate numberless passages in the Scriptures, which cannot be well understood without a knowledge of them : They were also referred to the best writers upon the subject. But the chief object of their at- tention and study, during three years of their course, was liis system of divinity in the largest extent of the word, including what is most material in pneumatology and ethics. In this compendium were contained, in as few words as perspicuity would admit, the most material things which had occurred to the author's observation, relating to the nature and properties of the human mind, the proof of the existence and attributes of Gon, the nature of moral virtue, 28G DODDRIDGE. virtue, the various branches of it, the means subservient to it, and the sanctions by which its precepts, considered as God's natural law, are enforced : Under which head, the natural evidence of the immortality of the soul was large- ly examined. To this was added some survey of what is, and generally has been, the state of virtue in the world. From whence the transition was easy to the need of a reve- lation, the encouragement to hope for it, and the nature of the evidence which might probably attend it. From hence the work naturally proceeded to the evidence produced in proof of that revelation which the Scriptures contain. The genuineness, credibility, and inspiration of these sacred books, were then cleared up at large, and vindicated from the most considerable objections which infidels have urged. When these foundations were laid, the chief doctrines of Scripture were drawn out into a large detail; those relat- ing to the Fatheii, Son, and Spirit; to the original and fallen state of man ; to the scheme of our redemption by Christ, and the offices of the Spirit, as the great agent in the Redeemer's kingdom. The nature of the covenant of grace was particularly stated; and the several precepts and institutions of the gospel, with the views which it gives us of the concluding scenes of our world, and ©f the eternal state beyond it. What seemed most evident on these heads, v/as thrown into the propositions, some of which were problematical; and the chief controversies relating to each were thrown into the scholia, and all illustrated by a very large collection of references ; containing, perhaps, one lecture with another, the substance of forty or fifty octavo pages, in which the sentiments and reasonings of the most considerable authors, on all these heads, might be seen in their own words. It was the business of the students to read and contract these references, in the intervals between the lectures, of which only three were given in a week, and sometimes but two. This was the Author's capital work as a tutor; he had spent mucli labour upon it, ami was continually enriching it with his remarks on any new pro- ductions upon the several subjects handled in it. This sys- tem his pupils transcribed : It is now published, and the world will judge of its value and suitableness to answer the end proposed. Critical lectures on the New Testament were weekly delivered, which the students were permitted and encouraged to transcribe, to lead them to the better knowledge of the divine oracles. These contained his re- marks on the language, meaning, and design of the sacred writers, and the interpi'etations and criticisms of the most consider- DODDRIDGE. 287 considerable commentators. Many of these he lias inserted in the " Family Expositor." In the hist year of the course, a set of lectures on preaching and the pastoral care was given : These contained general directions concerning the xnethod to be taken to furnish them tor the work of preach- ing, the characters of the best practical writers and com- mentators upon tiie Bible, many particular rules for the composition of sermons, their proper style, the choice and arrangement of thoughts, and the delivery of them; di- rections relating to public prayer, exposition, catechizing, the administration of tlie sacraments, and pastoral visits: To these were added many general maxims for their con- versation and conduct as ministers, and a variety of pru- dential rules tor their behaviour in particular circumstan- ces and connections, in which they might be placed. While the students were pursuing these important studies, some lectures were given them on civil law; the hieroglyphics and mythology of the ancients; the English history, par- ticularly the history of nonconformity, and the principles on which a separation from the church of England is founded. The tutor principally insisted upon those laid down by Dr. Calamy, in his introduction to the second volume of his defence of moderate nonconformity. One day in every week was set apart for public exer- cises ; at these times the translations and orations of the junior students were read and examined; those who had entered on the studies of pneumatology and ethics, pro- duced, in their turns, theses on the several subjects assigned them, which were mutually opposed and defended. Those who had finished ethics, delivered homilies (as they were called, to distinguish them from sermons) on the natural and moral perfections of God, and the several branches of moral virtue ; while the senior students brought ana- lyses of Scripture, the schemes of sermons, and afterwards the sermons themselves, which they submitted to the ex- amination and correction of their tutor. In t'lis part of his work he was very exact, careful, and friendly, esteem- ing his remarks on their compositions more useful to young preachers, than any general rules of composition which could be ollered them by those who were themselves most eminent in the profession. In this view he furnished them with subordinate thoughts, and proper scriptures tor proof or illustration, retrenching what was superfluous, and adding what was wanting. It was his care, tlirough the whole course of their studies, that his pupils might have such a variety of lectures, weekly, as might engage their minds S8S DODDRIDGE. minds without distracting them. While they were attend- ing and studying lectures of the greatest importance, some of less importance, though useful in themselves, were gi- ven in the intervals: these had generally some connection with the former; and all were adapted to vialce the man of God perfect, thorou:^/) It/ furnished unto all good works. He contrived that they should have as much to read between each lecture as might keep them well employed, allowing due time for necessary relaxations, and the reading prac- tical writers : he recommended it to them, and strongly insisted upon it, that they should converse with some of these daily, especially on the Lord's Day, in order to sub- serve, at once, the improvement of the Christian and the minister: And he frequently reminded them, tliat it argued a great defect of understanding, as well as of real piety, if they were negligent herein. He often examined what books they read, besides those to which they v^ere referred in their lectures, and directed them to those which were best suited to their age, capacities, and intended profes- sion ; and in this respect they enjoyed a great privilege, as they had the use of a large and valuable library, con- sisting of several thousands of volumes : many of them the Doctor had purchased himself, others were the dona- tions of his friends, or their several authors ; and each student, at his admission, contributed a small sum towards enlarging the collection ; the student's name was inserted in the book or books purchased with his contribution, and it was considered as his gift. To this library the students had access at all times, under some prudent regulations as to the time of keeping the books. The tutor was sensible, that a well-furnished library would be a snare rather than a benefit to a student, except he had the advice of a more experienced friend in the choice of those he should read: as he might throw away his time on those which were of little importance, or anticipate the perusal of others which might more pro- perly be reserved to some future time. To prevent this, he sometimes gave his pupils lectures on the books in the library, going over the several shelves in order, informing them of the character of each book and its author, if known ; at what period of their course, and with what special views particular books should be read, and which of them it was desirable they should be most familiarly acquainted and furnished with, when they settled in the world. His pupils took hints of these lectures, which at once displayed the extent of his reading and knowledge, and DODDRIDGE. 289 land were in many respects verv useful to them. The Doctor's manner of lecturing was well adapted to engage the attention and love of his pupils, and promote their diligent study of the lectures. When the class assembled, he examined them in the last lecture, whether they under- stood his reasoning ; what the authors referred to said on the subject; whether he had given them a just view of their sentiments, arguments, and objections ; or omitting any that were important. He expected from them an account of the reasoning, demonstrations, Scriptures or facts, contained in the lecture and references. He allowed and encouraged them to propose any objec- tions which might arise in their own minds, or which they met with in the authors referred to, of which they did not think there was a sufficient solution in the lecture ; or to mention any texts that were misapplied, or from which particular consequences might not be fairly drawn, and to propose others, which either confirmed or contradicted what he had advanced ; and, if at any time their objec- tions were petulant or impertinent, he patiently heard, and mildly answered them. He was solicitous that they should thoroughly understand his lectures, and what he said for the illustration of them : If he observed any of them inattentive, or thought they did not sufficiently un- derstand what he was saying, he v. ould ask them what he had said, that he might keep up their attention, and know whether he expressed himself clearly ; he put on no ma- gisterial airs, never intimidated nor discouraged them, but always addressed them with the freedom and tenderness of a father : He never expected nor desired that they should blindly follow his sentiments, but permitted and en- couraged them to judge for themselves. To assist them herein, he laid before them what he apprehended to be the truth, with all perspicuity, and impartially stated all ob- jections to it ; he never concealed the difficulties which affected any question, but referred them to writers on both sides, without hiding any from their inspection. He frequently and warmly urged them not to take their sys- tem of divinity from any man, or body of men, but from the word of God. The Bible was always referred and appealed to upon every point in question, to which it could be supposed to give any light. Considering him as an author, in which character he is in much reputation ; he was not fond of controversy, and was determined, if he could possibly avoid it, never to engage in any of those disputes which have been, and still are, agitated among VOL. IV. U protestants. 290 DODDRIDGE. protestants. He had often seen and lamented this as the event of many a voluminous controversy, that men, of contrary parties, sat down more attached to their own opinions than they were at the beginning, and much more estranged in their affections : He left, therefore, this work to others. The first piece he published (except some papers in the ' Present State of the Republic of Letters') can scarcely be called controversial, though it was an answer to another. This was entitled, " Free Thoughts on the most probable Means of reviving the Dissenting Interest : Occasioned by the late Inquiry into the Causes of its De- cay : Addressed to the author of that Inquiry, 1730." He treats the author with great civility, and, instead of criti- cising upon his performance, offers some remarks which may be of general use ; and they deserve the regard of all ministers. He points out the principal reasons why many learned and good men are so unpopular and unsuccess- ful ; and hath shewn great knowledge of human nature, and what careful observations he hath made on the dispo- sitions of mankind. This tract is little known, especially by the ministers of the established chui'ch ; but at its first publication it met with a favourable reception among per- sons of different parties and sentiments ; and it deserves to be read as a modf] of a candid, polite manner of remark- ing upon another author^s writings and opinions. The «only proper controversy that he was ever engaged in, was ^^Hth the author of a treatise, entitled, ' Christianity not fou^^ded on Argument,' &c. published in the year 1742, to wh(J^^ii t^G wrote Three Letters, which were published soon afteJ* one another, in 1743. Tlie author of this trea- tise, under iSo form of a most orthodox and zealous Chris- tian, pretends *o cry up the immediate testimony of the Spirit, and asserts 'ts absolute necessity in order to the be- lief of the gospel, v^h'ih at the same time he endeavours to expose all kind of rationjil evidence by which it could be supported, and advances several very cunning insinuations against the truth of it, in the most pernicious view. Dr. Doddridge, therefore, chose to publish some remarks upon it, not only to defend Christianity in general, but to ex- plain and support some important truths of it, particu- larly the agency of the divine Spirit, which some had de- nied, because others had misrepresented. He thought this treatise affected the foundation of natural as well as re- vealed religion, and that the ludicrous turns given to' Scriptures in it, and the air of burlesque and irony which runs DODDRIDGE. 291 runs through it, were very unbecoming a wise and bene- %'olent man, or the infinite moment of the question in debate. In 1747, he published some remarkable passages in the life of Colonel .James Gardiner, who was slain by the rebels at the battle of Prestonpans, September 21, 1745. He designed by this work, not merely to perform a tribute of gratitude to the memory of an invaluable friend, but of duty to God and his fellow-creatures, as he had a cheer- ful hope that the narrative would, under a divine blessing, be the means of spreading a warm and lively sense of re- ligion. These were all the writings our author published, except his practical ones. The first practical piece he published was, " Sermons on the Education of Chil- dren, 1732." This he intended principally lor the use of his own congregation, to supply, in some measure, that want of more frequent personal instructions on the sub- ject, which his care of his })upils necessarily occasioned. These discourses contain a variety of impojtant advices and affecting motives in a little -compass, and have been very useful to assist parents in this difficult work. His tender concern for the rising generation, shewed itself in his " Sermons to Young People," published in 1735; and in his " Principles of the Christian Keligion," in verse, for the use of children and youth, published in 1743. In this composition, which was drawn up by the desire of his friend Dr. Clark, he hath happily united ease, plainness, and elegance. And here I may also mention his prefixing a " Recommendatory Preftxce" to a small piece, entitled, ' Familiar Dialogues for children,' written by a lady whose piety and abilities are equally transparent, Avhich is well adapted to instruct them in their duty to God and man, at the same time that it agreeably entertains and amuses them. In 1736, he published " Ten Sermons on the power and grace of Christ, and the evidences of his glorious Gos- pel." These three last, on the evidences of the gospel, were, in some later editions, by the particular desire of one of the first dignitaries of the church of England, printed so as to be had separate from the former. They contain a sufficient defence of Christianity, and are well adapted to the use of those whose office calls them to de- fend it. It gave the author singular pleasure to know that these sermons Avere the means of convincing two gentle- men of a liberal education and distinguished abilities, who had been deists, that Christianity was true and divine: And g92 i) 0 D D R I D G E. And one of them v.lio had set himself zealously to pre- judice others against the evidences and contents of the gospel, became a zealous preacher, and an ornament of the religion he had once denied and despised. In 1741, the Doctor published some Practical Discourses on Regenera-^ tion. In 1745, he published another practical treatise, entitled, " Tlie Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul, illustrated in a course of serious and practical Ad- dresses, suited to Persons of every Character and Circum- stance; Vv'ith a devout Meditation or Prayer added to eaclt chapter." Dr. Watts had projected such a work himself, but his growing infirmities prevented his execution of it. He recommended it, therefore, to Dr. Doddridge, imagin- ing him the fittest person of his acquaintance to execute it in a manner that would be acceptable and useful to the world. It was with some reluctance he undertook such a work, amidst his many other weighty concerns. But Dr. Watts' heart was so much set upon the design, and he urged his undertaking it with so much importunity, that lie could not deny his request, after having been honoured with his friendship lor many years, and receiving nmch assistance and encouragement from him, in several of his undertakings for the good of the church. After this work was finished, Dr. Watts revised as much of it as his health would admit. It is, indeed, a body of practical di- vinity and Christian experience, and contains, as it were, the substance of all the author's preaching ; and, consi- dering how comprehensive it is, there is hardly any single treatise which may be more serviceable to young minis- ters and students. Besides tliese, he published " Two Sermons on Salvation by Grace; several Single Sermons, some on particular occa- sions, and Charges delivered at the Ordination of some of his brethren." There Avere circumstances relating to each, that led him to believe they might be useful to the public, especially to those who desired the publication, or to whom they were first addressed. " His plain and serious Address to the master of a family, on the important subject of Family lleligion,'''deserves particular notice, as it has passed through several editions, been very serviceable to ministers, who, by putting it into the hands of masters of prayerless families, might excite them to their duty, without being exposed to those inconveniences which a personal admonition might, in some cases and with some tempers, be attended : And the author's reasoning is so plain and forcible, as to leave those inexcusable, who, after reading it, will continue in this DODDRIDGE. 293 this shameful and pernicious neglect. Since his decease, his lesser pieces have been reprinted, in three small vo- lumes: But his capital work was, " The Family Expo- sitor,'" containing a Version and Paraphrase of the New Testament, with Critical Notes, and a Practical Improve- ment of each Section, in six volumes, 4to. He liad been preparing for this work from his entrance on the ministry, and kept it in view in the future course of his studies. It has been already observed, that his works have been much read and esteemed in these kingdoms, and the colo- nies; I would add, that the most considerable of them have been translated into foreign languages, and published abroad. His sermons on regeneration, salvation by grace, on the power and grace of Christ, and his letter on family prayer, have been translated into Dutch : The memoirs of Colonel Gardiner, into the Dutch, French, and German languages: The Rise and Progress of Religion, into Dutch, German, Danish, and French. It is observable, that the translation of it into French was undertaken by the par- ticular encouragement of the late Prince and Princess of Orange, and many of the gentry of Holland. A protes- tant prince of the empire wrote to the undertaker of it, promising to recommend it to those about him. Many persons of quality and rich citizens in Germany and Switzerland were subscribers to it. A pious minister of Wales translated it into the Welch language, that it might be read by those of his congregation who did not under- stand English; and it would have been printed, could suf- ficient encouragement have been procured. Some learn- ed men undertook to translate the former volumes of the Family Expositor into German ; but an opposition was made to its publication by some of the Lutheran Clergy, from an apprehension that his interpretation of particular passages, and his reflections upon them, might not agree with their ostablished principles, or form of church go- vernment; therefore, the persons concerned in the trans- lation, first published his sermons on regeneration in that language ; and the moderation and candour, expressed in them, quieted the opposition, and the work was com- pleted. These writings, thus translated and published, have been well received abroad, particularly in Holland, Germany, and Switzerland. Since the Author's death, a volume of his hymns hath been published, and his theolo- gical lectures, of which some account was given above. He intended, had God spared his life, to have published a new translation of the minor prophets, with a commen- tary 294 EDWARDS. tary on them, a sermon to children, some sacramental meditations, and a dissertation on the Jewish proselytes ; defending that opinion concerning them, which he men- tioned in some of his notes upon the Acts of the Apos- tles. In this last tract he had made considerable progress, but it is too imperfect to appear in the world. Besides his works above-mentioned, he published a short account of the life of Mr. Thomas Steffe, one of his pupils, pre- fixed to some of his sermons, which were printed by the earnest desire of the congregation where he was settled, and a dedication of an abridgement of Mr. David Brai- nerd's journal of his mission among the Indians of New- Jersey and Pensylvania, to the honourable society for pro- moting Chi'istian knowledge in the Highlands of Scotland, and in popish and infidel parts of the world, by which so- ciety Mv. Brainerd was employed in this work, and of which society our Author was one of the corresponding members. He also published a small piece ©f Mr Some's, concerning inoculation of the small-pox, which was writ- ten and published principally to remove the common ob- jection, trom a religious scruple. In 1748 he revised the expository v/orks and other remains of the excellent Archbishop Leigliton, and translated his Latin prelections, which were printed together in two volumes at Edin- burgh. The Archbisliop's Commentary upon the first Epistle of St. Peter hath since been reprinted, under the inspection of the lleverend Mr. Foster, at London. JONATHAN EDWARDS, D. D. vV E are now to speak of a man of whom it is not easy to speak with justice, without seeming to border upon adulation. There is also an additional difficulty which attends the Christian biographer when he aims to de- scribe the characters of extraordinary men, and which the writers of other lives are generally allowed to forget : — He must so represent the motives and actions of the per- sons he offers to view, as to remind his readers that they, no less than himself, are to consider the uncommon excel- lencies of some characters, not as resulting from the mere force or acumen of natural ability, but as flowing entirely from the Divine Bounty for purposes of his ov^'n appoint- ment. I e sweet exercises, will never cease or come to an end, but will last to all eternity ! Thursday, October 18. To follow the example of Mr. B , who, though he meets with great difficulties, yet undertakes them with a smiling countenance, as though he thought them but little ; and speaks of them as if they were very small, Monday, February 3, iTai. Let every thing have the value now that it will have on a sit k bed : And frequently in my pursuits, of whatever kind, let this come into my mind: How mucli shall I value this on my death-bed? Sa- turday night, June 6. This week has been a remarkable week with me with respect to despondencies, fears, perplexities, multitudes of cares, and distraction of mind ; being the week 1 came hither to New- Haven in order to entrance upon the office of tutor of the college. 1 have now abundant reason to he convinced of the troublesomeness and vexation of the world, and that it never will be another kind of world. Tuesday, September '2. By a sparingness in diet, and eating, is much as may be, what is light and easy of digestion, I shall doubt- lesi EDWARDS. 299 need only mention Milton, Dryden, and Swift, in confir- mation of such an opinion. Our Author was certainly not in the highest class of learned men ; for Itis times, his duties and his means, did not allow of such an attain- ment:' Bnt lie was far more happily employed both for himself and others ; and he hath given such proofs of a mind uncommonly invigorated and enlightened,^ that it is matter of joy it was not engrossed by studies, whicli would have rendered him only the admiration of a few, instead of allowing him to be the instructor of all. He had, in short, the best and sublimest sort of knowledge, without being too much incumbered with what was unnecessary to or beneath his calling. In September 1726, he resigned his tutorship, m conse- quence of the invitation of the people at Northampton in Connecticut for assistance to his mother's fiUher Mr, Stod- dard, who was the settled minister of the town. He was ordained colleague on the 15th of February 1727, in the twenty-fourth year of his age, and continued in the ministerial service there till the 22d of June 1750; when he was dismissed in as extraordinary a way, and for as extraordinary a cause, as perhaps most of our readers may ever have heard of ' We have (says his Biographer) with respect to this, an instructive lesson on the stability of all human affairs, and the unreasonableness of trusting in man.' He might have said— the unreasonableness of submitting such a man as Mr. Edv/ards to the passionate io-norance of the brutish multitude. ° What seems at first to have rendered Mr. Edwards an object of hatred, was a circumstance, which should have made him, and would have made him among persons truly religious, an object of love. Some young persons of his flock had procured some obscene publications, which they commented upon among themselves for their own im- provement in lasciviousness, and which they quoted, with the usual decency of such persons, for an impression upon others. This came in a short time to Mr. Edwards's ears ; and therefore, taking occasion, after a sermon upon Heb. xii. 15, 16. preached for the purpose, to call the leading members of his charge together, he informed them of what he had heard, and procured a consent that the matter should less be able to U.ink clearer, and shall gain time. 1.^/, By lengthening out my life. '2rf/y, Shall need less time for digestion after meals. 3dlu Shall be able to study closer without wrong to my hea ih miy, Shall need less time to sleep, ^dih, Shall seldomer be troub.c^ with the head-ache." 300 EDWARDS. should be examined. A committee was appointed for this purpose, and to assist the pastor. Whexi thii- was done, Mr. Edwards appointed a time of meeting ; and then read a list of the names of young persons, accvising and ac- cused, without specifying under which predicament they stood, who were desired to come together at his house. Upon the declaration of names, it appeared, that almost all the families in the town had some relation or other con- cerned in the matter ; and therefore a great number of the heads of families not only altered their minds about examination, but declared, that their children, &c. should not be called to account for such things as these. The town was immediately in a blaze : And this so strength- ened the hands, or hardened the faces of the guilty, that they set their pastor at defiance with the greatest inso- lence and contempt. Here this affair ended : And ob- scenity enjoyed its triumph. But its effects did not end here, Mr. Edwards''s hands were weakened; and, we are told, that he afterwards had no great visible success In his ministry, but, on the con- trary, that security and carnality much increased among his people, and the youth in particular became more wanton and dissolute, AH this paved the way for something more. It had been a standing opinion among this people for some time, countenanced also by their late pastor, ' That unconverted persons,"' known to be such by the ungodliness of their lives, or the ignorance of divine truth in their minds, by which men are known to be unconverted, * had, notwith- standing, a right in the sight of God to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper ; and that, therefore, it was their duty to partake of it, even though they had no appearance of the grace and holiness which the gospel states to be inse- ])arable from true believers.' It was sufficient, if they were outward and visible members ; ' so that they, who really rejected Jesus Christ, and disliked the gospel way of sal- vation in their hearts, and knew that this was true of them- selves, might (inconceivable as it appears) make the pro-, fession without lying and hypocrisy.' To the common inconveniencies always attending a Na- tional church, where it is impossible to examine every man's profession, or to keep him from disgracing it, here is an addition l)ecoming the disciples of Ignatius of Loyola, by which men may be hypocrites without the guilt of hy- pocrisy, and lyars without the imputation of sin. A con- venient sort of principle indeed, to men of a certain cast; but EDWARDS. 301 Ibut by no means to those, who are never to forget, that fornication and all iivckanness — should not be even named amongst them, as becomcth saints. See Eph. v. 3, 4, 5, G, 7. Mr. Edwards had Jong been uneasy upon tlie prevalence of this principle, which, I believe, no church of Christ ever avowed, and upon his owh yielding to the example of his predecessor, and to a j)ractice settled before he came hither. His doubts and inquietude (as might be expected I'rom so gracious a man) increased upon him, and drove him at length to a thorough investigation of the subject, the re- sult of which was, (and how could it be otherwise?) an absolute conviction of the error, and a firm determination to expose it. lie saw, " that to be a visible Christian was to put on the visibility or appearance of a real Christian ; that the profession of Christianity was a profession of that in which real Christianity consists;''"' and that, there- fore, as the Lord's Supper was intended for real Chris- tians, none ought to come to it, who were not at least professors of real Christianity, and to whom no imputa- tion of allowed ungodliness could justly be made. The declaration of his mind upon this head, among such a kind of men, raised an immediate clamour, and put this town into as great a ferment, as the preaching of an holy apostle had long before occasioned at Ephesus. They were all in an uproar; and Dismiss him, dismiss him, was the universal cry of men, women, and elders. He had touched a favourite sin, and a favourite principle which protected it: And (what was a very great truth, though not in their sense of it) he was no longer fit to be their pastor. He attempted to reason with them calmly, but he breathed against the winds. They knew well enough, that their views were by no means subjects of cool discussion : for there is no man so base or so stupid as to believe, that iniquity can be sanctified by reason or revelation ; and therefore, the business was to be bellowed down with the force of lungs, against which it is scarce possible for the gentle voice of meekness and wisdom to be heard in opposition. Mr. Edwards, when they would not hear him, wished to refer the matter to impartial judges out of the vortex of this noisy faction; but this would not answer their de- signs of confusion and the meditated ruin of IMr. Edwards^ more than the former proposal. He attempted to discuss the matter in a course of lectures, which he began for the purpose ; but they would not hear hitn. Rebellion, like fhc sill of witchcraft, as a prophet hath observed, added stubborn- 302 E D W A 11 D S. stubbornness to their iniquity, and diffused itself so uni- versally among these people, that there was not a tenth of the whole which did not declare against him. So fro- ward is the multitude at all times under the inllaramation of nonsense and wickedness, that no conciliations, urged with truth and calmness even for their own interest, can claim or receive a moderate attention. While the hot fit lasts, medicaments, like oil, do only heighten the flame. How often did he use all means in his power to reduce them at least to a calm, if not a charitable temper; to hear and weigh, with a little attention, what he had to say for himself; and not to condemn him, were it only for their own sakes, without some shadow of a reason ! But his meekness and modesty were treated as concessions against himself, and only raised the insolence and fury of his ad- versaries, instead of lowering them into peace. Nothing Avould serve their turn, (how highly soever ag?inst their spiritual and real interests) but an absolute separation ; and they who disagreed before, agreed with lies and con- tumelies to promote this mean and unjust design, in the true spirit of injustice and meanness. Their excellent pastor had written against the liberty of the will in divine concerns; but these unreasonable men were resolved he should feel that it had liberty enough to do him evil in his human affairs. Mr. Edwards, deploring their unhappy temper, and finding all methods ineffectual to restrain the torrent of virulence, slander, and falsehood rolling upon him, at length yielded to a low artifice of these men in packing a council, composed of people like themselves, which soon came to a resolution for his dismission. Only twenty out of above two hundred who voted upon this occasion, were for Mr. Edwards; and therefore he was expelled, with all the marks of an inexpressible rancour, on the 22d of June 1750. Thus had these wretched people the lasting infamy of endeavouring to ruin one of the meekest and humblest of men, and the most able and celebrated divine, who hath as yet been born in America.— But they knew not their own mercies ; and it would be well if yet they knew them. — Such a man as Mr. Edwards would impart honour to any country or profession, and be readily embraced by all: How difficult is it then to reflect, without some indignation, that a person of his uncommon worth should be made the sport of way v.'ard ignorance, or be baffled by the cunning intrigues of an ungodly party, or be over- awed EDWARDS. 303 awed by the insolent clamours of a licentious mob ! How much is it to be regretted, that these, who sliould have been ruled hy him according to the gospel, should arro- gate to themselves the place of rulers; that they, who should have listened to his gracious instructions, should fancy themselves too tvise to be taught; and tliat, by thus inverting the order of things, they should have power to open for themselves a door to faction, and to all the consequences of faction — tumult, misrule, nonsense, and anarchy ! The few abhorrers of this atrocious act entered an tmavailing protest against it. The good man, shocked rather l^or his enemies tlian for himself, preached a most solemn and affecting farewell discourse, v>^liich was after- wards published, on 2 Cor. i. 4. on which he raised this doctrine: " That ministers, and tiie people who have been under their care, must meet one another at the tri- bunal of Clirist."— A very solemn truth it sliould be to those who disregard other tribunals ; but it did not at all affect these people, who had renounced their allegiance to justice, truth, and reason. This malice of his enemies, raised against him (it must ever be remembered, for the honour of the gospel and him- self) ONLY FOR HIS RESISTING SIN, did not stop here. When there was no preacher to supply the pulpit at times, he cheerfully gave them his service, rather than it should be empty, or any means should be wanting for their good. This kindness, which would have conciliated more infrenuous and gracious minds, only increased the diabo- lic^ flame kindled in their's ; insomuch that they called their town together, and voted, that he should preach among them no more. And so they frequently went without preaching, rather than Iiave the free ministra- tions of a man, of whom the world itself ims vol worthy. But these are the blessings of an absolute democracy ! Thus ended his service of near four-and-twenty years for an undiscerning and ungrateful people, wlio had been much upon his heart, and for vtrhom he Jiad always ex- pressed a very tender concern. " For their good he was always writing, contriving, labouring; for tliem he had poured out ten thousand fervent prayers; and in their wel- fare he had rejoiced as one that findeth great spoil." Yet all their detestable conduct did not alter the frame of his mind. " His calmness and sedateness, his meekness and humility under the most injurious treatment, his resolu- tion and conduct in the whole affair, were truly wonder- fid. 304 EDWARDS. ful, and cannot be set in so beautiful and affecting a light by any description, as they appeared in to his friends who were eye-witnesses." This incomparable man was now in the decline of life, and with littie or no income besides his stipend; and this throws the greatest light upon his faithfulness and since- rity : Nor had he the views of support from another ap- pointment ; for he knew not how far the malice of his people might extend to prevent it, or the prejudice of his dismission operate against him elsewhere: Nor was he capable (alas! what a pity he should be driven to think of it !) to take up any other business for a support. Thus beggary and disgrace were before him. But he had a good Master ; and he knew that he was good. He had com- fort from him in his soul, and, in a short time, sustenance bv his providence for the wants of himeelf and his house- hold. Ashamed at this unpazalleled baseness to so excel- lent a man, his friends, or rather the friends of godliness, administered to his relief, and he was soon after appoint- ed to the mission at Stockbridge ; but not before some other insolent and bitter attempts had been made to mur- der his reputation, as well as to deprive him of bread. The voluntary retraction of one man, though a ring- leader in this iniquitous business, ought to save him from being involved in the common infamy. The remorse of Mr. Joseph Hawley, while it entitles him to our forgive- ness, confirms, and in the strongest language too, both Mr. Edwards's innocence and the turpitude of his com- rades. For these reasons we subjoin it in a note for the reader.* Mr, * ' To the Rev. Mr. Hai.l of Sutton. ' Rev. Sir, Northampton, May 9, 1760. ' I HAVE often wished that erery member of the two ecclesiastical councils (that formerly sat in Northampton upon the unhappy difler- eiictis between our furnier most worthy and reverend pastor Mr. Jona- than Eiiivards, and iht- church here) whereof you was a member; I say, Sir, I have often wished evrry one of them truly knew niy real sense of my own conduct in the atlairs that the one and the oiher of said councils are privy to; and as I have long apprehended it to be my duly not only to humble myself before God for what was unchristian and sinful in my conduct before said councils, but also to confrss my faults to them, and take shame to myself therefore before them. E have often studied with myself in what manner it was practicable for me to do it; and when I understood that you. Sir, and Mr. Eaton, were to be at Cold Spring at the time of their late council, I resolved to improve the opportunity fully to open my mind there to you and hiiu thereon; and Uiought that probably some oelhod might be then thouf,ht EDWARDS. 305 Mr. EtUvards, who was able to shine in the seats of learning, and some time hence was called to preside over one, was now delegated to the instruction of savage Indians at Stockbridge. This place is in the western part of Massachusefs Bay, and about sixty miles from Mr. Edwards' former residence at Northampton. He was fixed here thought of in which my reflections on mj'self touchinii; the matters above hinted at, might be communicated to most if not all the gen- tlemen aforesaid, who did not reside in this country : But you know, Sir, how difficult it was for us to converse together by ourselves when at Cold Spring, without giving umbrage to that people: 1 therefore proposed writing to you upon the matters which 1 had then opportunity only most summarily to suggest, which you. Sir, signitied would be agreeable to you : I therefore now undertake what I then proposed, in which I humbly ask the divine ai! then in dispute; yet 1 beg leave to say, that I really ap- prehend that it is of the highest moment to the body of this church, and to me in particular, most solicitouslv to inquire, whether, like the Pharisees an against ourselves, in rejecting Mr. Edwards and his doctrine : Which wds the ground of his dismission. And I humbly conceive that it highly imports us all ot this church, most seriously and impartially to examine what that most worthy and able divine about tliat lime published in support of the same, whereby he being dead yet speaketh. Hut there were three things. Sir, especially in my own partioulnr conduct before the first council, which have been justly matter of great grief and much trouble to me almost ever since : to wit, in tlio first place, I confess, Sir, that I acted very immodestly VOL. IV. X and 306 E D W A K D S. here on the 8th of August 1751; and here he continued his labours, in more peace and quietness than he had ever known before, for six years. In this interval, old as he was, he made greater attainments in knowledge, and wrote more for the church of God, than he had ever been able to do, within the same space of time, during the former part and abusively to you, as well as injuriously to the church and myself, ■when, with much zeal and unbecoming assurance, I moved the council that they would interpose to silence and stop you in an address you was making one morning to the people, wherein you was, if I don't misremember, briefly exhorting them to a tender remembrance of the former affection and harmony that had long subsisted between them and their reverend pastor, and the great comfort and profit ■which they had apprehended that they had received from his ministry, for which, Sir, I heartily ask your forgiveness ; and I think that we ought, instead of opposing an exhortation of that nature, to have received it with all thankfulness. Another particular of my conduct before that council, which I now apprehend was criminal, and was owing to the want of that tender affection and reverend respect and esteem for Mr. Ed«ards which he had highly merited of me, was my strenuously opposing the adjournment of the matters submitted to that Council, for about two months, for which I declare myself un- feignediy sorry ; and I with shame remember, that I did it in a pe- remptory, decisive, vehement, and very immodest manner. But, Sir, the most criminal part of my conduct at that time, that I am con- scious of, was my exhibiting to that council a set of arguments in writing, the drift whereof was to prove the reasonableness and ne- cessity of Mr. Edwards' dismission in case no accommodation was then effected with mutual consent; which tract by clear implication con- tained some severe, uncharitable, and, if I do not misremember, ground- less and slanderous imputations on Mr. Edwards, and expressed in Litter language ,• and although the original draft thereof was not done by me, yet I foolishly and sinfully consented to copy it, and, as agent for the church, to read it and deliver it to the council, which I could never have done, if 1 had not had a wicked relish for perverse things s Which conduct of mine, I confess, was very sinful ; am persuaded ■was highly provoking to God, and for which I dm ashamed, con- founded, and have nothing to answer. As to the church's remon- strance (as it was called) which their committee preferred to the last of said councils, to all which I was consenting, and in the composing ■whereof I was very active, as also in bringing the church to their Tote upon it: I would in the first place only observe, that I do not re- member any thing in that small part of it which was plainly discur- sive of the expediency of Mr. Edwards' re-setiietnent here as pastor to a part of the church, which was very exceptionable ; but as to all the residue, which was much the £:i"eatest part thereof, (and I am not certain that any part was wholly free) it was every where larded with' unchristian bitterness, sarcastical and unmannerly insinuations, con- tained divers direct, grievous, and criminal charges and allegations against Mr. Edwards, which I have since good reason to suppose were all founded on jealous and uncharitable mistakes, and so were really gross slanders, also many heavy and reproachful charges upon divers of Mr. Edwards' adherents, and some severe censures of them aH EDWARDS. 307 part of his life. In this retirement, he composed his deepest and most valuable works : So that when, in his own judgment, as well as that of others, his usefulness seemed to be cut oft", he found greater opportunities of more lasting service than ever. A pleasing calm, after so grievous a storm, to his placid mind ! On all indiscriminately ; all of which (if not t'dering what that council could say or propose to us ; among whom there were divers justly in great re- putation for grace and wisdom. In these instances. Sir, of my con- duct, and others (to wliich you was not privy) in the course of that most melanolioly contention with Mr. Edwards, wherein I now see that I w;:s very much influenced by vast pnde, self-sufficiency, ambi- tion, and vanity, I appear to myself vile, and doubtless much more so to others who are more impartial; and do, in the review thereof, abhor myself, and repent sorely: And if my own heart cotidemns me, it behoves me solemnly to remember, that (ion i^ gieater, and knowcth all things : And 1 hereby own, .'•^ir, that surh treatment of Mr. Edwards, as is herein before mentioned, wherein I was so deeply concerned and active, was particularly and very aggravatedly siniul and ungrateful in me, because I was not only under the com- mon obligations of each individual of the society to him, as a most able, diligent, and faitl)ful pastor; but I had also received man\ in- stances of his tendci ness, goodness, and generosity to m^, as a \'>ung kin^man, whom h*; was disposed to treat in a most friendly maniier. Indeed^ Sir, I must own, that by my conduct in consulting and actiug 309 EDWARDS. On the death of Mr. Aaron Burr, president of New Jersey College, which was on the 24 iier commoidy ht in him ; to live upon him; to serve and follow him, and to be totally wrapped up in the fulness of Christ; and to be perfectly sanctitied and made pure, with a divine and heavenly purity. 1 have several other times had views very mucli of the same nature, and that have had the same effects. I have many times had a sense of the glory of the third Person in the Trinity, in his office of sanctilier; in his holy operations communicating divine light and life to the soul. God, in the communications of his Holy Spirit, has appeared as an infinite fountain of divine glory and sweet- ness ; being full and suflicient to fill and satisfy the soul: pouring forth itself in sweet communications, like the sun in its glory, sweetly and pleasantly diffusing light and life. 1 have vastly a greater sense of my universal, exceeding dependence on God's grace and strength, and mere good pleasure, of late, than I used formerly to have; and have experienced more of an abhorrence of my own righteousness. The thought of any comfort or joy arising in me, on any considera- tion or reflection on my own amiableness, or any of my perform- ances or experiences, or any goodness of heart or life, is nauseous and detestable to me. And yet I am greatly afliicted with a proud and self-righteou?! spirit; much more sensibly, than I used to be for- merly. 1 see that serpent rising, and putting forth its head, conti- nually, every where, all around me. Though it seems to me, that in some respects I was a far better Christian, for two or three years after my first conversion, than I am now, and lived in a more constant de- light and pleasure ; yet of late years, I have had a more full and con- staqt SIO EDWARDS. entitled, Sinners in the hands of an angry God. V. A Ser- mon on the distinguishing Marks of a Work of the Spirit of God, preached at New-Haven, Sept. 10, 1741, from 1 John iv. 1 . VI. Some Thoughts concerning the present Revival of Religion in New England, and the Way in which it ought to be acknowledged and promoted, humbly offered to the Public, in a Treatise on that subject, in five Parts. Pub- lished in the year 1742. VII. A Treatise concerning Re- ligious Affections. Published in the year 1746, VIII. A Treatise, entitled. An humble Attempt to promote ex- plicit Agreement, and visible Union of God's People in extraordinary Prayer, for the Revival of Religion, &c. Recommended by five of the principal Ministers in Boston. Published in 1747, IX. An Account of the Life of the Reverend Mr. David Brainerd, Minister of the Gospel and Missionary to the Indians, he. with Reflections and Ob- servations thereon. Published in the year 1749. X. An Inquiry into the Qualifications for full Communion in the visible Church. Published in the year 1749 : Intended as an explanation and vindication of his principles in the matter which occasioned his dismission from Northampton. XI. A Reply to the Reverend Mr. Williams's Answer to the forementioned Inquiry. Published in the year 1752. XII. A Sermon preached at Newark, before the Synod, Sept. 28, 1752, from Jam. ii. 19. entitled. True Grace distinguished from the experience of Devils. XIII. A careful and strict Inquiry into the modern prevailing No- tion of that Freedom of Will, which is supposed to be essential to moral Agency, &c. Published in the year 1754. XIV. The great Christian Doctrine of original Sin defended; Evidences of its Truth produced, and Ar- guments to the contrary answered. Containing, In parti- cular, a Reply to the Objections and Arguings of Dr. John Taylor, &c. published in 1758. This was in the press when he died. XV. An History of Redemption. A very excellent posthumous publication." Besides these, several Sermons have been separately published on various occa- sions : afaiit sense of the absolute sovereignly of Cod, and a delight in that so- vereignty, and have had more of a sense of the glory of Christ as a me- diator, as revealed in the Gospel. On one Saturday night in particular, had a particular discovery of the excillency of the Gospel of Christ above all other doctrines ; so that I could not but say to myself, " This js uiy chosen light, my chosen doctrine -." And of Christ, " This is my phosen prophet." It appeared to mc to be sweet beyond all expression, to follow Christ, and to be taught and enlightened and instructed by him; to leara of him, atxl live to him. J. HERVEY. 317 slons :' But I know not, at present, of any large work unpublished of this admirable Author. JAMES IlERVEY, A.M. X HIS amiable Christian and excellent Minister was born on Friday the 26th of February 1713-14, at Hard- ingstone, a country village one mile from Northampton, his father being then minister of the parish of Collingtree, within two miles of Hardingstone. His first instruction was fiom his mother, who taught him his letters, and to read. Under her tuition he continued till he was seven years of age; when he was sent, as a day-scholar, to the free grammar school at Northampton, of Avhich tlie Reverend Mr. Clarke, vicar of St. Sepulchre^s in the said town, was at that time master. At this school he remained till he was seventeen years old, and learned the Latin and Greek languages, in which his genius and memory would have enabled him to have made a much earlier progress, if it had not been prevented by his schoolmaster, who would not suffer him, or any other of his scholars, to learn faster than his own son. Whilst Mr. Hervey was at school, though he shewed a remarkable dexterity at all the innocent games usual among children, yet he had an indifference, uncommon among boys, for the acquisitions he made by them, which he pursued only for exercise and amusement. In the year 1731, at the age of seventeen, he was sent by his father to Oxford, and was entered of Lincoln Col- lege, under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. Hutchins. He resided in the imiversity seven years, yet only took the degree of bachelor of arts. The first two or three years he spent with some degree of indolence, or rather less ap- plication to his studies than he afterwards used. But in 1733, about his nineteenth year, becoming acquainted •with some persons who began to distinguish tliemsclves by their serious impressions of religion, and their zeal for the promotion of it, he was engaged, by their influence, in a stricter attachment both to piety and learning; of the former there are conspicuous marks in his letters writ- ten to his sister in the years 1733, 1734, and 1735: And of the latter, in the course of his labours. 318 J. H E R V E Y. He made himself master of Dr. James KeilFs Anatomy, Dr. Derham's Physico-theology and Astro-theology, th^ Spectacle de la Nature, as translated by Humphreys, which last work he read with a peculiar satisfaction. Nor was he less delighted by the ' Essay on Pope"'s Odyssey j"" written by the Rev. Mr. Spence, prebendary of Durham; to which elegant and judicious discourse Mr. Hervey often acknow- ledged that he owed more of his improvement in style and . composition, than to any other which he had ever read. In 1734, at the persuasion of a nmch-valued friend, he began to learn the Hebrew language \tithout any teacher^ by the Westminster Grammar, but soon found that Gram- mar too concise and difficult for the instruction of a learn- er ; and therefore he then despaired of ever attaining a tolerable knowledge of what he afterwards made himself a complete master. It appears from his letters to his sister in 1733, 1734, and 1735, that though he then shewed a pious and serious turn, yet these letters speak a language very different from those truths, for which we find he was afterwards so powerful an advocate, or at most they treat very confus- edly of them. The truth is, he was then a stranger to, and had strong prepossessions against the doctrine of jus- tification by faith in the imputed righteousness of Christ. And he acknowledges, in a note on his " Descant upon Creation," that Mr. Jenks's excellent treatise, entitled, * Submission to the righteousness of God,' was the instru- ment of removing his prejudices, and reducing him to a better judgment. He entered into holy orders as soon as his age and the canons of the church would allow. Whilst he was at Oxford, he had a small exhibition of about twenty pounds a-year; and when he was ordained, his father pressed him very much to take some curacy in or near Oxford, and to hold his exhibition ; but this he would by no means comply with, it being in his opinion unjust to detain it, after he was in orders, from another person, who might more want the benefit of that provision than himself. In 1736, he left Oxford, and became his father's curate. He afterwards went to London ; and, after staying some time there, he accepted the curacy of Dummer in Hamp- shire. Here he continued about twelve months, when he was invited to Stoke Abbey, in Devonshire, the seat of his worthy friend the late Paul Orchard, Esq. who valued him much for his piety, and with whom he lived upwards of two years in great esteem and friendship. That gentleman shewed J. H E R V E Y. 315 shewed him the following remarkable proof of his regard : When his eldest son (to whom our Author dedicated the second volume of his " Meditations,") was to be baptized, he insisted that Mr. Hervey should be one of his god-fa- thers, that he might have an eye to his Christian educa- tion ; and this he did in preference to many gentlemen of large estates in the neighbourhood, who would have thought themselves honoured by the connection. In 1740, he undertook the curacy of Biddeford, four- teen miles from Stoke Abbey, where he lived greatly be- loved by the people; his congregation was large, though his stipend was small; his friends therefore made a collec- tion yearly for him, which raised his income to sixty pounds a-year At Biddeford he was curate about two years and an half, when the rector dying, he was dismissed by the new incumbent, insensible of pious or learned excellence, against the united request of the parishioners, who offer- ed to maintain him at their own expence. During the time that Mr. Hervey lived in the west, namely, from 1738 to the latter end of 1743, his family heard very lit- tle of him, through the greatness of the distance. He la- boured diligently here in the service of his Master; and here it was that he planned his " Meditations," and pro- bably wrote some part of them. He says in his first vo- lume of " Meditations," that it was on a ride to Kilk- hampton in Cornwall, and in that church, where he laid the scene of his " Meditations among the Tombs." In 1743, he returned about August to Weston-Favel, and officiated as a curate to his father till June 1750, at which time his health was much impaired by his great attention to study and duty; and his family and friends judging that the change of air might be of benefit to him, they formed a design, which they executed, of conveying him to London, under a pretence of his riding a few miles in the post-chaise of a friend who was going thi- ther. Of this he pleasantly complains, in a letter to a friend, upon his arrival there, which begins thus : " My dear friend, " If you chide, I must accuse. Pray where was your warrant, where your commission, to impress me into this journey.'* However, as a good Christian, I forgive you and your accomplices." After commending several cler- gymen his friends, whom he saw on the road, he concludes thus: " My animal nature is so very feeble, that I find no benefit from the change of air, nor from the enjoyment of the most pleasing society." He 320 J. H E R V E Y. He staid in London till April or May 1752, during which time he was seized with a severe ilhiess, which ahnost cost him his life; but he recovered: and upon his father's death, which happened in May this year, he re- turned to Weston, where he constantly resided during the remainder of his life. He took his master of arts' degree at Cambridge in 1752, when he entered at Clare Hall ; and as he was of sufficient standing at Oxford, he staid only the few days required by the statutes to perform the university exercise. It may be thought strange that he, who had refused to hold his exhibition at Oxford, along with a curacy, should, upon his father's death, accept of the two livings of Weston Favel and Collingtree, and hold them during his life. It Tvas very far from being his choice, and it was what he had for a long time refused to do. He was determined against being a pluralist ; and notwithstanding his father kept him at Oxford, with a design that he should take his degree of master of arts, and constantly urged him to do it, yet he could not be persuaded to yield to such a request, though he was of a sufficient standing, looking upon that step as a qualification intended for his future holding both his father's livings. When his father died, he remained determined to have Weston-Favel only: And this he frequently declared to his family and friends, and refused to accept of Collingtree, or to qualify himself for the same ; insomuch that it was in danger of lapsing to the bishop. But at length, through the earnest and con- stant intreaties of his family and friends, who, unknown to him, had sent to and procured from Oxford the neces- sary certificates of his being a bachelor of arts, in order to his taking his master's degree at Cambridge, he was, after much importunity, prevailed on to comply with their requests, hoping that he might be thereby enabled to do so much the more good. And when he waited upon Dr. Thomas, then Bishop of Peterborough, for institution to Collingtree, which was near six months after his induc- tion into Weston, he said, " I suppose your Lordship will be surprised to see James Hervey come to desire your Lord- ship's permission to be a pluralist; but, I assure you, I do it in obedience to the repeated solicitations of my mother and my sister, and not to please myself;" or to that effect. His labours, both in his ministerial office and in his study, were pursued by him as long as possible, under the disadvantage of a weak constitution of body, which, toge- ther with the severity of his lust illness, he supported not only witk J. HERVEY. 3S1 "with the greatest patience, but without a single expression of peevishness. That ilhiess had long been cojning on him ; but greatly increased in the beginning of October 1758, and grew very Ibrmidable in the December follow- ing. For, on Sunday the third of that month, in the evening, after prayer in his family, he seemed to be ar- rested by the messenger of deatli ; so that the united as- sistance of his sister and servant, with difficulty, enabled him to get up stairs into his room, from whence he never came down. His illness gaining ground every day, he soon became sensible of h"s appi'oaching dissolution. He liad frequent and viole'.i, returns of the cramp, which gave him most acute pain. He had likewise a hectic cough, which afflicted him so grievously in the night, that he could seldom lie in bed till four in tlie morning*; and was often obliged to rise at two, especially as opium, how much soever guarded by other medicines, would not agree witb liini. On the fifteenth of that month, he complained of a pain in his side ; for which, at his own desire, he was let blood, though his physician Dr. Stonehouse, in whom he placed the greatest confidence, had objected to it, apprehending him too weafi? to bear any evacuation of that kind. — When tlie surgeon came, he could scarcely find any pul- sation, and therefore took away no more than four ounces of blood ; intimating to his relations and Iriends, that the case was desperate, and that he had opened a vein very un- willingly, and merely to satisfy Mr. Hervey's desire, who had some hope that the pain might possiblv be relieved by it. The reverend Mr. Abraham Maddock, his curate, being much with him in the afternoon of that day, Mr. Hervey spoke to him in strong and patiietic terms of i>is assurance of faith, and of the great love of God in Christ. " O ! (said he) what has Chuist, liow much has Christ done for me ; and how little have I done for so loving a Sa- viour ! If I preached even once a-week, it was at last a burden to me. I liave not visited the people of my parisli as I ought to have done; and thus have preached, as it were, from house to house. I have not taken every op- portunity of sj)eaking for Chkist." These expressions being accompanied with tears, which were too visible not to be observed ; and lest his tears should be misinterpreted, as they had been conversing about liis expected end, and of * When Mr. Ildivoy was in tolecablo healili, he rarely lay in bed after fix, even in winter : and rose still earlier in tht^ summer. VOL. IV. Y 322 J. HERVEY. of his assurance of happiness, he proceeded thus : " Do not think, that I am afraid to die — I assure you, I am not. I know what my Savioch hath done for me ; and I want to be gone. But I wonder and lament to think of the love of Christ, in doing so much for me, and how little I have done for him." In another conversation, discoursing likewise of his ap- proaching dissolution, which he did with the utmost calm- ness and serenity, and of the little which we know of God''s word, he said ; " How many precious texts are there, big with the most rich truths of Christ, which we cannot comprehend, which we know nothing of; and of those we do know, how few do we remember ? Bonus textuarius est hojius tkcologus. ' A good textuary is a good divine ;'' and that is the armour ; the word of God is the sword. Those texts are the weapons which I must use, when that subtle spirit, that arch adversary of mankind, comes to tempt and sift me in my last conflict. Surely I had need be well provided with these weapons ; I had need have my quiver full of them, to answer Satan with texts out of the word of God, when he assaults me. Thus did Christ, when he Avas tempted in the wil- derness." On the nineteenth, the pains of his body abated, and he grew drowsy and lethargic ; but, in the night following, his immediate death was apprehended. The next day, the twentieth, he was visited by Dr. Stonehouse, who de- clared, that, in his opinion, Mr. Ilervey could not live above three or four days ; uj)on which he took occasion to speak of the many consolations through Christ, which a true Christian enjoys in the prospect of death, and of the emptiness of worldly honours to an immortal soul, and of the unprofitableness of riches to the irreligious man. Mr. Hervey replied, " True, Doctor, true ; the only vc- luable treasures are in heaven. What would it avail me now to be Archbishop of Canterbury .-^ Disease would shew no respect to my mitre. That prelate [Dr. Seeker, wlio died August 3, 1708.] is not only very great, but, I am told, has religion really at heart. Yet it is godliness, and not grandeur, that will avail him hereafter. The gospel is offered to me a poor Country parson, the same as to his Grace. Christ makes no difference between us. Oh • why then do ministers thus neglect the charge of so kind a Saviour ; fawn upon the great, and hunt after worldly preferments with so much eagerness, to the disgrace of our order ? Th.ese, these are the things. Doctor, and not our poverty J. II E R V E Y. 3^3 j)overty or obscurity, which render tlie dcrf^y so justly contemptible to the wordlings. No wonder the service of our church, grieved I ;un to say it, is become such a formal lifeless thing ; since it is, alas ! too generally ex- ecuted by persons dead to godliness in all tlieir conversa- tion ; whose indilference to religion, and worldly-minded behaviour, proclaim the little regard they pay to the doctrines of the Loid who bought them.'' ^Ir. Ilervey, the day before his death, went a few steps across his room ; but immediately iinding his strength failing him, he sunk rather than ^ell down ; his fall being broken by his sister, who, observing his weakness, ran and caught him ; but he fainted away, and was in all aj)- j)earance dead, it being a consideral)le time before any ])ulse could be perceived. When he came to himself, his brother Mr. ^\'illiam Ilervey, who was come from London to visit him, said, ' We were afraid you was gone.' He answered, " I wish I had." And well he might Avish so, for his strength was >poke any other words in- tclh'^ibly, except now and then, " precious salvation." During the last hour he said nothing, but leaned his head against the side of an easy chair, aiid. without a sigh, groan, struggle, or the least emotion, he shut his eyes and departed, between four and five in the afternoon, on Christmas day 1758, in the forty-fifth year of his age. When his body was conveyed to church, it v^^as cover- ed, by his express desire, with the poor's pall, and he was buried under the middle of the communion-table in the chancel of Weston-Favell, on Friday the 28th of Decem- ber, in the presence of a numerous congregation, full of re- gret for the loss of so excellent a pastor. — Mr. jNIaddock, who buried him, was himself in tears. — Some were wring- ing their hands, others sobbing, many were silently weep- ing, but all were inwardly and sincerely grievied, as their Jooks sufficiently testified; all bearing a visible witness of his worth and their sorrow. The poor thankfully acknow- ledged his benevolence, and, as they looked into his grave, seemed to say within themselves, ' There lies the man whose unwearied kindness was the constant relief of my various distresses ; who tenderly visited my languishing bed, and readily supplied my indigent cireumstances.' * Others, once ignorant and ungodly, looked at this depo- sitiun of his body, and thus vented their expressive sighs : * Here are the last remains of that sincere friend who watch- ed for viy soul. — I tremble to think into what irretrievable ruin I might quickly have been plunged, had not his faith- ful admonitions and re})eated exhortations been blessed to arrest me in the wild career. I was then unacquainted ■with the gospel of peace, but now enlightened through liis instructions, I see the all-sufficiency of my Saviour. His discourses are still warm on n^y heart, and I trust will be more and more operative on my life.'-f* It may be truly said of Mr. Hervey, that few lives have ever been more heavenly, and few deaths more triumphant. He died in the Lord, and is now at rest; where even ihc wicked cease from troubling. His name is recorded in the annals of eternity, and the honours conferred on him by Christ will for ever continue blooming and incorruptible in * See " Meditations among the Tomb?." Vol. I. p. 65. f j"^'''- 326 J. H E R V E Y. in the world of glory. His character, both in his public and private capacity, was ot" the most exemplary icind. As a minister, he performed all the duties of that office with the greatest strictness. In the pulpit he was earnest and fervent, and shewed that he felt the efficacy of what he preaclied. Nor did he think it sufficient to preach on the I^ord's Day only, but set up a weekly lecture every Wednesday evening at Weston-Favell church, which was very well attended. This lecture was held during the winter half-year at seven, as it did not then interfere with tlie work of the labouring people, and he illuminated the chuixh out of his own pocket, not chusing to put tlie pa- rish to any additional expcnce. His zeal for the perfor- mance of his duty was, however, for some time before he died, much interrupted ])y the ill state of his health, which would not permit him personally to execute the pastoral duties even of the parish of Weston, where he iesided : A circumstance that gave him inexpressible concern. The last two or three years of his life he could scarce do any thing more than preach once on the I^ord''s Day, wiien people from many miles round flocked to hear him. His Wednesday eveninglecture at seven be discontinued for the last year. Collingtree, which, like Weston-Favell, was a family-living, about five miles distance, Mr. Flervey had not been able for some time to preach at, or to visit his parishioners at their own h.ouses, as his custom had been; but he encouraged them to come to him, and to converse fi'eely on the subjects relating to their eternal interests ; and on such occasions, he would speak with a force and propriety peculiar to himself. He would frequently la- ment his inability to serve his people, comparing himself to a bleeding disabled soldier, and " only not slain." He always preached witliout notes, except on some very particular occasions; but his method was judicious, clear, and not encumbered with too many subdivisions. His weakness rendering him for several months before his death incapable of speaking to his congregation as usual, he shortened his discourses, and took a most useful method of inculcating his instructions: After he had ex- pounded his text, and divided his sermon into two heads, (rarely into more, and never exceeding three) he would speak briefly, and at the conclusion of each head enforce what he !iad said, by a pertinent text of Scripture, de- siring iu's congregation (which was generally very nu- merous) to turn to their bibles, and double down that text. J. H E R V E Y. 327 text. " Now, (added he) my dear brethren, if you for- get my sermon, you cannot forget God's word in this text, unless you wilfully throw your Bibles aside. Shew these to your children, or the absent part of your family, when you return home."'' Then he gave a striking ex- hortation, and at the end of it another text for them to double down, so that they had always three texts; in or- der to their iinding of which, he paused in the pulpit two or three minutes. This method was attended with ano- ther good effect; it obliged the generality to bring their 35ibles along with them; for those who were without a liible lost the benefit of the texts, and were unemployed, while the majority, who had their's, were busy in looking for the passages referred to in his sermon. He endeavoured as much as possible to divest himself in his public discourses of his usual luxuriancy of style, and to adapt his language to the lowest capacity. In this he followed the example of Luther, of whom it is reported he should say, " If in my preaching I were to pay a re- gard to Philip Melancthon and other learned divines, then I should do little good. I preach in the plainest manner to the illiterate, and that gives content to all. Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, I spare till the learned ones come to- gether." Mr. Hervey thought perspicuous language and evangelical doctrines of much more importance to his pa- rishioners, than elaborate or ornamental discourses, though few men living, perhaps, were more capable of satisfying a polite or learned audience. His method of catechizing children in church, and of speaking to them in private, was very engaging and useful. He put little questions to them after they had repeated the words of the catechism ; as for instance, " Well, my little maid, let me hear if you understand what you said. If you do understand the meaning of these words, you will then be able to answer the questions I shall put to you." * He Avould at these times ask not only such ques- tions as were suitable to the words of the catechism, but also such as would strike at the capital vices of his pa- rishioners, yet without giving personal offence.-}* He * For some failher account of his manner of catechizing, see his *♦ sixty-iirst Letter.'' •|- Some of his parishioners having lain in hed on a Sunday morjjing longer than he approved, — and others having been busy in fuddering their cattle when he was coming to church, and several having fre- quented 328 J. II E R V E Y. He did not forget that lie was a minister in his own house, for he worshipped God with his family twice a- day. He supped at eight every night, and at nine he ex- pounded a text of Scripture for about a quarter of an hour, and seldom longer, except when some friend was present, to whom he thought his discourse might be useful, or when particularly requested to enlarge. After this he concluded witii prayer. lie breakfasted at nine, and about eight he called his fa- mily together, and required each of his servants to repeat by heart the text which he had explained the preceding evening, and then he would recapitulate his exposition : By which method both his text and commentary were imprinted on their memories. After this he had prayers. In the afternoon when he wns called down to tea, he used to bring his Hebrew Bible or Greek Testament with him, and would speak (as he was ever studious how he might promote the glory of Gop, and improve time) ei- ther upon one or more verses, as occasion offered, in the most instructive and entertaining manner. And in the summer season he would now and then drink tea, when his health would j)ermit him, with some of his most seri- ous parishioners, and then five or six of the neighbours were invited, and l\Ir. Fiervey's conversation was remark- ably affecting, as he had a happy talent at spiritualizing almost every incident, and was naturally of a most oblig- ing and cheerful disposition. He was a member of an assembly formed for Christian improvement, which was established in his neighbourhood on the 7th of July 174-7, and constantly attended it so long as he was able to ride to the place of meeting. A short account of the rules of this assembly is given at the end qupnted the alehotisp, he thus catechised one of the chiiilren before the congregation : " Repeat mo the fourth commandment. — Now, little man, do you uinlerstand the meaning of this commandment ?" — Yes, Sir— • ♦' Then, if \oa do, you will i;e able to answer rne these questions. — lu, those keep holy the Sahbath day, who lie in bed till eight or nine o'oluck in the morning, instead of ri>ing to say their prayers and read the Bible?" 'No, Sir. — " Do those keep the Sabbath who fodder their cattle, whei. Other people are goina' to church ?" No, Sir. — Does God Almiffhiy blr- sui'h people as ,' morning and ni;;ht in tlieir houses?" Yes, Sir. — A great variety of sue I pertinent and familiar questions he would frequently ask in the moit en j^;aging manner, on every part of the catechism, as he thought most c^h • ilucive to the improvement and edificati m (;f his parish. J. H E R V E Y. 329 portunity of glorifying his Maker, and to awaken in himself and others a more lively spirit of devotion. He had always a particular pleasure and delight in speaking of, and hearing others recommend, the love of Christ. He seemed as if he had made that pas- .sage of St. Augustin his motto, who said. Si acribas^ non placet miJii nisi Icgam Jesum ; si confcras, non sapit viihiy nisi sonueris ihi Jesum ; quia Jesus est in ore mto mel, in aure melos, in cordejuhilum. < I am, neither pleased with those writings, nor yet with that conversation, in which I find not a savour of the name of Jesus : For he is as ho- ney to my mouth, music to my ears, and joy to my heart.' To lay plans and schemes for the good of others, was his frequent study ; and to carry those beneficial contrivances into execution, was his favourite employ. He was very diligent in procuring subscriptions for the support of cir- culating Welsh free-schools, to teach poor men, women, and children, to read tlieir native language ; under whose care and management they were carried on for near thirty years. In these schools, no less than one hundred fifty- eight thousand two hundred and thirty-seven poor ignorant persons have been taught to read ; who, in all proba- bility, would have died in ignorance, had it not been for this useful institution.* Great care was likewise taken to catechize and instruct the young people, who were taught iji these schools, in the principles of the Chris- tian * If the read* r has a (lesire to see the rise and prottress of these tiseful seoiiiiaries of ('ii; istiaii knowledge, he will IJnd a full and copiuus account of them in the Reverend Mr. Jdiips's yarly aceoutits, entitled, " Welsh Piety,"' which were published foiir-and- twenty years snccessively. At- • hou;;h the siibjcol matter i)f these papers carry in them a coincidence of ulta--, yet tlicre is a i)eaiitifiil varii-ty, and a plcasint: diversity running; through the whole ; which, at the same lime as they afi'uid eniertaininent to tlie religious reader, discover the rich lalcnls of the pious Auihov. v(n.. IV. z 338 G. J 0 N E S. tian religion. He having applied to the society for pro- moting Christian knowledge, of which he was a corre* spending member, that body caused to be printed two large editions of the AVelsh Bible of fifteen thousand copies each, which were sold very cheap for the benefit of the poor in Wales. He likewise composed and published several excellent and instructive books in the British language, and several in English ; and left some pieces in manuscript, which have not yet been published. He was very charitable to the poor ; and his unwearied endeavours to alleviate their distresses, will render his me- mory justly dear to them. He not only fed and clothed them in considerable numbers, but was likewise a physi- cian to their bodies, as well as to their souls. He had, by long study, arrived at a great proficiency in medicine; and had large quantities of drugs sent him from London, which he made up and dispensed to the j)oor gratis, and, through God's blessing, with remarkable success. And when he had cured any of his country people of their bodily dis- tempers, and thereby gained their love and esteem, he never failed to take that opportunity to second it with pa- thetic, judicious, aiHl seasonable advice ; ever exhorting them to an earnest care for their immortal souls, as being of much greater value in God's sight than their perishing bodies. He was a diligent observer of Providence: He would neglect no duty, or any lawful methods, to bring about any well laid plan for the good of mankind ; yet he had his eye upon Him, whose superintending providence over-rules all events. There were several young gentle- men brought up under his care for the work of the mi- nistry, some of whom are now eminent and useful in the church. But that which gave a genuine lustre to all his other endowments, was his remarkable and uncommon hu- mility. Though his friends might admire his superior abilities and his exemplary behaviour, great usefulness, and incessant diligence, yet he himself saw how far he fell short of his high calling, and lamented his defects. He renounced self in every view ; was ever unconscious of his own shining parts ; desirous to improve, even by the meanest, and had very depreciating thoughts of his own performances. He steadily relied for final acceptance, and endless felicity, on a better righteousness than his own, even the glorious and transcendently perfect righ- teousness of Jesus Christ, imputed unto him for his justi- fication. This was the rock of his hope and the crown *)f his rejoicing. Under affliction and bodily pain (of which G. JONES. 339 Vviiich he had a great share all his life,) he was very sub- missive and resigned ; he would endure torturir.g pain without maruiuring or repining: He bowed and kissed the rod ; yea, there appealed a serenity in hitn, under the pressures of the deepest affliction. As his joy was not of this world, so no temporal calamity could take it from him. He was likewise of a very forgiving temper. He would often earnestly pray for his enemies, (for some such even Mr. Jones had, notwithstanding his piety and up- rightness) who, through envy, endeavoured to asperse his character, and depreciate his labours. He was possessed of the spirit of candour and love in a high degree. Though, as a minister of the church of England, he had a steady attachment to her communion, yet, to persons of tender conscience dissenting from the church, he allowed the riglit of private judgment, and cheerfully embraced all upright and pious men of every denomination, being fully sensible, that all the godly are onk in Christ .Jesus. His gratitude to Croo was remarkable lor divine favours. The following passage, which was communicated by a worthy clergyman who was intimately acquainted with Mr. Jones, and made him a visit a few weeks before he died, is a specimen of his grateful sentiments. — ' Soon after 1 entered the room, (says he) and inquired after his welfare; with a pleasing countenance, thougli now full of age, and upon the brink of eternity,'' he said, " I must bear ■witness to the goodness of God. Oh ! how wonderful is the love of God to me ! that I am now, even now, free from that troublesome distemper the asthma, which I was subject to in my younger days, that I could not walk the length of this room but with the greatest difficulty. How wonderful is the love of God to me ! that I am not blind, as I was for three weeks in my childhood, when I had the small-pox ; and that I am not a blind beggar going from door to door ! How wonderful is the love of Goo I that I have such a good friend to take care of me, when I cannot help myself How wonderful is the love of God ! that I now feel but little pain, and that I am likely to go to my grave with ease. How wonderful is the mercy of Goj) ! that I can clearly see what Christ has done and suffered for me, and that 1 have not the least doubt of my interest in my almighty Saviour. The grand enemy of souls will attempt to disturb my peace and tranquillity ; but blessed be God for his all-sufficient grace ! How wonderful is the kindness of Goo ! that the natural faculties of ray soul are now as strong as ever ; I feel 340 G. JONES. I feel only a little decay in my memory."" — In this grateful strain he went on as long as he was able to speak. And at another time he said,—" Blessed be God, his comforts fill my soul !"''' He enjoyed much of a delightful frame, and longing expectation of his everlasting rest, till nature fainted, and the tabernacle of clay was taken down. He departed this life in comfort and peace on the eighth day of April 1761, in the seventy-eighth year of his age, at the house of a worthy lady, [Mrs. Bevan of Laugharne] in which Mr. Jones had been for some time before he died. His body was interred at his own parish church of Liad- dowror. His funeral was very solemn ; multitudes of poor and disconsolate people testified tlieir grief by their looks, and shed abundance of tears for the loss of so good a man, in whom were united the judicious divine, the eminent preacher, the loving pastor, and the faithful friend, who had laboured amongst them forty-five years. It may be truly said of him, that few liv^es were more heavenly and useful, and few deaths more triumphant. His Works. The following are the titles of some of Mr, Jones"'s printed books, in English, viz. " I. The Platform of Christianity; being an Explanation of the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England. II. A Letter to a Clergyman, evincing the Necessity of teaching the Poor in Wales. III. The Christian Covenant, or the Bap- tismal Vow, as stated in our Church Catechism, scrip- turally explained by Question and Answer. Note : This is the first part of his intended Exposition of the Church Catechism, in English. The second Part, whicli goes to the End of the Creed, is included in, IV. Welsh Piety : Or, An Account of the Circulating Welsh Charity Schools in AVales. These Tracts were published annually for four- and-twenty years successively, and collected into two handsome volumes in Svo. They breathe a spirit of piety every way worthy of this Welsh Apostle, as he was some- times styled. Some of those in the Welsh language may be rendered : V. A ]\Ianual of Prayers for Morning and Evening, &c. VI. Eree Advice. VII. A Call to the Throne of Grace. VIII. A Guide to the Throne of Grace. IX. A large Exposition of the Church-Cate- chism, with Scripture Proofs; being a compendious Body of Divinitv. X. An Abridgement of this last, for the Use of his Welsh Schools. XI. A Letter upon the Sub- ject of Catechizing the Ignorant. XII. The Duty of Praising God. XIII. AnExtract of " Mr. Rees Kichards' Welsh Poems." By the kind assistance of many charitable persons, D A V I E S. 341 jiersons, Mr. Jones was enabled to print very great num- bers (sometimes twelve thousand, at others eight thou- sand, &c. at an impression) of many of the above books, which were distributed throughout all Wales. SAMUEL DAVIES, TRESIDENT of the COLLEGE in NEW JERSEY. 1 HE following account of President Davies is chiefly drawn from a Funeral Sermon, preached by his successor Dr. Samuel Finley, and from an Appendix to it by the editor of his Sermons, the late Dr. Thomas Gibbons. The Reverend Mr, Samuel Davies, late president of the college of New Jersey, was born on the 3d of November, A. D. 1724, in the county of Newcastle on Delaware. His father was a planter, who lived with great plainness and simplicity, and supported the character of an honest and pious man to his death. His mother, who was greatly distinguished for her eminent piety, some time before tlie conception of this only son, earnestly desired such a blessing ; and as she then had one daughter who was near five years old, she had occasion for the exercise of her faith, in waiting for the answer to her petition. In this situation, she took example from the mother of the pro- phet Samuel, and Vowed a vote unto the Lord, ' that if he zi'ould indeed give her a man-child, she would devote him to his service all the da^s of his life.'' It may well be supposed that the parents received this child as from Gon, and that the mother especially, who had reason to look upon him as a token of the divine favour, and an express answer to her prayers, would, with the greatest tenderness, begin the rearing of this beloved plant. As there was no school in the neighbourhood, she herself taught him to read : And although he was then very young, he is said to have made such proficiency as surprised every person who lieard it. He continued at home with his parents till he was about ten years old, during which time he appeared to have no remarkable im- pressions of a religious kind ; but behaving himself as is common 342 D A V I E S. common for a sprightly ciiiid, under the influence of pious example and instruction. He was then sent to an English school, at some distance from his father''s, where he con- tinued two years, and made great progress in his learn- ing ; but, for want of the pious instruction witli which lie was favoured at home, he grew somewhat more careless of the things of religion. It appears, that about this time of life, careless as he was, he made a practice of secret prayer, especially in the evening. The reasons (as he tells it in his diary) why he v.'as so punctual in the evening was, that " he feared lest he siiould perhaps die before morning.'"' What is farther observable in his prayers at this time is, that " he was more ardent in his supplications for being introduced into the Gospel Mi- nistry, than for any other thing." ' About the twelfth year of his age (says Dr. Finley,) the God to whom he was dedicated by his Word and Spirit, awakened him to solemn thoughtfulness, and anxious concern about his eternal state. He then saw .sufficient reason to dread all the direful effects of divine dis- pleasure against sin. And so deeply imprinted was the ra- tional sense of his danger, as to make him habitually un- easy and restless, until he might obtain satisfying scrip- tural evidence of his interest in the forgiving love of God. While thus exercised he clearly saw the absolute necessity, and certain reality, of the gospel plan of salva- tion, and what abundant and suitable provision it makes for all the wants of a sinner. No other solid ground of hope, or unfailing source of comfort, could he find beside the merits and righteousness of him, whom God set forth to be a propitiation for sin, through faith in his blood, Rom. iii. 25. On this righteousness he Avas confidently enabled to depend ; by tliis blood his conscience was purged from guilt ; and believing, he rejoiced with joy unspeakable and full of glory, 1 Pet. i. 8. Yet he was afterwards exer- cised with many perplexing doubts for a long season ; but at length, after years of impartial repeated self-exa- mination, he attained to a settled confidence of his in- terest in redeeming grace, which he retained to tl)e end. A diary, which he kept in the first years of his religious life, and continued to keep as long as his leisure would permit, clearly shews how intensely his mind was set on heavenly things ; how observant he was of the temper of Jiis heart; and how watchful over .^11 his thoughts, words, and actions. Did any censure his foibles, or juvenile in- discretions "i They would have done it compassionately, ha me, of di'awing up from authentic memorials a succinct ac- count 352 W A L K E E. » count of the life and ministry of the author of the follow- ing discourses. Our Author, Samuel Walker, was the youngest of seven children ; he was born at Exeter, o)i the l(Jtli day of December in the year of our Lord 1714. His parents" were Robert Walker of the city of Exeter, Esq. and Margaret his wife, who was the only daughter of the Reverend Mr. Richard Hall, minister of St. Ed- mund's and All-hallows in that city. Robert Walker, the father of ^Vlr. Thomas Walker, was the only son of Sir Thomas Walker, knight, who, as his ancestors had done, represented the city of Exeter in many successive pai'lia- ments, during the reigns of King Charles Land King Charles IL — Sir Thomas's lady was Mary, the only daugh- ter of the Reverend Samuel Hall, A. M. youngest son of Dr. Joseph Hall, formerly Bishop of Exeter. Thus was our Author lineally descended from that pious, learned, evangelical, and truly Christian prelate, to whom he seemed to have been allied not only by proximity of blood, but likewise by affinity and similarity of senti- ment ; as well as by a yet nobler relationship in grace, by being united, as a living member of the same mystical body, to the same glorious and exalted head Christ Jesus. Mr. Samuel ^Valker having lived under the care of his parents till he was eight years of age, was then put to tlie grammar-school in Exeter, where he continued till he was eighteen, when he was sent to Exeter College, in the University of Oxford, and put under the care of the rec- tor of that society. Dr. Francis Webber. Having taken the degree of bachelor of arts in the year 1737, he was oi'dained the latter end of that year, and appointed to the curacy of Dodescomb-Leigh, in the neighbourhood of Exeter, where he continued till August 1738. He was prevailed upon by the late Lord Rolle to undertake the charge of his youngest brother's education, and to make the tour of France \vith him, where IMr. Walker acquired many of those polite accomplislunents which adorn the gentleman. About two years after he returned to England, and accepted the curacy of Laidivery, in the county of Cornwall, under the Reverend Nicholas Kendal!, A. j\L one of the canons of Exeter, and archdeacon of Totness. On the death of Mr. Kendall, JNLarch 3, 1740, he was present- ed by Walter Kendall, Esq. to the said vicarage, to hold the same during the minority of a nephew of Mr. Kendall, to whom, upon his coming of age, Mr. Walker resigned it, and at midsummer 1746, entered upon the curacy of Truro in Cornwall. Mr. Walker, during the six years lie * served WALKER. 353 iserved Lanlivery, v/as always much esteemed for the de- cency and regularity of his conduct, having been by a gracious providence preserved from all gross vices. His conscience, even at that lime, dictated to him the necessity of constant diligence in the public duties of preacliing and catechizing, though he was then unacquainted with those evangelical principles whicli he afterwards embraced and taught with so much success in the latter years of his mi- nistry. Nor did he, destitute as he was of the light and motives which inlluenced his after-conduct, neglect at any season to visit his parishioners, and give them the best counsel and advice he was able. A remarkable instance of his concern for them stands upon record in one of his pa- pers: In the year 1744, being seized with a violent fever, he sent to a neighbouring gentleman and dictated to him a letter, which in case of his death he desired might be transcribed and given to such of his parishioners as he found neither his preaching nor his private admonitions had wrought any good effect upon, whose names he then desired the gentleman to take down: which is an evidence of his concern for the souls of those under his care. But before we proceed farther, it may not be amiss to say something concerning Mr. Walker's endowments both in body and mind. x\s to his person, he was tall in stature, his features were strong and comelv, and his deportment such as commanded respect. An air of autliority, which was natural to him, usually struck an impression of awe, at the first interview, upon those that conversed with him: But yet he conducted himself in such a manner, that whilst with a becoming dignity he extorted even from the froward and petulant a respect due to the ministerial character, by his alTability and readiness either in communicating his own thoughts, or attending to what was said by others, he rendered himself an agreeable companion to those who were willing either to itnpart or to receive instruction. In his conversation he discovered an unconmion depth of thought, and delivered his sentiments with readiness of expression on any subject. His understanding was remark- ably clear, and continued so to the very last. lie was pos- sessed of a quick apprehension, a solid judgment, and a retentive memory. The faculty which appeared in a more distinguishing manner, was his methodical exactness and propriety in the arrangement of his thoughts, and the distribution of tlie several parts of the subject he under- took to elucidate. This is to be discerned throughout his writings. And when his friends have observed to him that VOL. IV. 2 A he 354 WALKER. he usually discovered great accuracy and propriety in di- viding the matter of his discourses, he was wont at such times to say, that logic had been a favourite study with him from his youth. And indeed he generally took an op- portunity of recommending an improvement in the art of logic to younger divines, who consulted him upon the prosecution of their studies. He cautioned them to beware of quoting scraps of Scripture as they stand by themselves, and building opinions thereon which the context would not authorise. In opposition to this slothful custom, he advised them to consider each passage, with reference to what went before and wliat followed after, and likewise to mark with attention what analogy it bore to the general plan of salvation by grace. This circumstance might per- haps, with more propriety, have been reserved to be men- tioned hereaiter; but as I was speaking of his intellectual endowments, it naturally occurred to me in this place. But to return: Our Author, as it was mentioned, quit- ted Lanlivery, and settled at Truro in the year r74(), at which time he was universally esteemed not only in his private character, but likewise for the regular discharge of the duties of his pastoral function. Some of my readers may perhaps ask, ' If Mr. Walker bore so respectable a character at his first coming to Truro, what occasion had he either to make any alteration in his principles, or to new-model his conduct.'^' I will therefore endeavour to give an answer to this question, which concerns a most important crisis in his life, in as clear and satisfactory a manner as I am able. It is hardly to be supposed, that a man of his strong sense and solidity of judgment should be induced to differ so entirely from his former self, if he had not seen sufiicient ground to believe that he had been totally mistaken. There never was a man less likely to be deceived by any enthusiastic impressions, of which he was always so jealous^ that it was his constant rule to watch over the reasonings of his own mind, to compare all its conclusions with the plain sense of Scripture, and to lay no stress on any thing that was not warranted by an agreement with that unerring rule. Thus was he guarded against the delusive sallies of a lively imagination; neither was he more likely to be misled by a deference to the au- tliority of others, whatever his opinion or esteem of them might be ; but what he saw for himself, required in the word of God as matter of faith or practice, that, and that only, he thought himself boimd to believe and do. And he was so much afraid of leading others into that blind sub.' mission WALKER. 355 mission to his judq;ment, wliich he Avould not pny himself to any human authority, that he made it always a part of his advice to those whom he instructed, not to give iheir assent to any thin? he should tell them, because he said it, but to go to their Bible, and to search the Scrip- tures, that tiieir faith might not be built upon man's au- thority, but only upon divine testimony. It was not there- fore without reason that lie submitted to a change, which arose from the most deliberate and well-grounded con- viction. Did religion require not'aing more than exter- nal decency of manners, it must certainly be allowed that he was under no necessity of reformation. But to make the necessity of such a change a little more intelligible to those of my readers who may liave hitherto neglected to consult the interests, and atlend to the concerns of their own immortal souls, I must take leave to remind them, that there is an essential and very important difference be- tween the external professor of Christianity and the real internal Christian : That to depend upon regularity in observing the outward modes of worship, upon acts of be- nevolence and kindness, upon abstaining irom gross in- ju.stice and scandalous vices; that, in short, to appear out- wardly blameless unto men, to make a fair shew in the ilesh, and thereby to stifle and appease the admonitions and accusations of conscience, which was just our Author's former case, is the utmost height of the religion of those who take up with the form of godliness void of the power thereof; but that the real Christian, without being less careful to walk wortlij/ of the vocation wherewith he is called, and to adorn his profession by the practice of every thing that is amiable and praise-worthy, is farther taught to look carefully to the state of his heart and affections, and to examine tlie principles wliich actuate his conduct. He is filled with an habitual and earnest desire to be conformed, in the inward temper and disposition of his soul, to the image of him who bare our nins in his own bodi/ on the tree, that all who believe in him vtight not perish, but have eternal life. He strives to mortify all the corrupt in- clinations both of the flesh and of the mind ; to renounce his own will in every instance where it rises in any degree of opj)osition to that of Goo; to be valiant in the cause of God and his truth, and resolute in bearing, with meek- ness and patience, the troubles he will unavoidably meet with lor conscience-sake: Sucli, and so different from his former self, was our Author, after this important change had taken place in him. If B56 WALKER. If the reader Is sensible of the difference, which I have faintly endeavoured to represent, between the real and no- minal Christian, he will see the necessity of such a change, and his question will be answered to his satisfaction. The occasion of his being brought to this knowledge of himself was as follows : About a year after he came to Truro, being in company with some friends, the subject of whose conversation turned upon the nature of justify- ing and saving faith, he, as he freely owned afterwards, became sensible that he was totally unacquainted with that faith wliich had been the topic of the discourse, and also convinced that he was destitute of something which was of the greatest importance to his own as well as to the sal- vation of the people committed to his charge. He said no- thing at that time of the concern he was brought under to any one of the company, but was ever afterwards, as op- portunity otfered, ready to enter upon the subject. He began to discover that he had hitherto been ignorant of the nature of gos{)sl-salvation, inattentive to the spiritual state of his own soul and the souls of others, and govern- ed in all his conduct not by the only Christian motives of love to God and man, but purely by such as were wholly sensual and selfish ; he found that he was a slave to the desire of man's esteem ; and in short, as he himself ex- pressed it, that all had been wrong both within and with- out. Upon this discovery, he applied himself with dili- gence and fervent prayer to the study of the Holy Scrip- tures: and having by these means gained a farther insight into the nature of man's spiritual disorder, and of the re- medy afforded in the gos}>el, this necessarily led him to make a considerable alteration in his preaching, both as to the choice of his subjects and the manner of his address. Convinced that the divine testimony was the only sure ground of a divine faith, he was careful to assert nothing that was not immediately drawn from the word of God, it being now his great aim and study, to use his own phrase, " to be a good Bible Divine." But of all these particulars the reader will gain a clearer knowledge from the following meditation, written by him at his return from a meeting of neighbouring clergymen, who met to- gether for the purpose of religious conversation. " Seeing the Gospel revelation is a dispensation of grace, — a remedy for a fallen creature, we must needs be sensible of those effects which the fall hath had on us, ere we can make a right use of the gospel. For my own part, I lived many years in an entire ignorance of a corrupted na- turev WALKER. 357 ture, although I had learnt to reason in a speculative and historical way upon man's degeneracy. Since it hath pleased Gon in some measure to enlighten the eyes of my understanding, I look back upon those days of blindness, and plainly see, that while I kept to an external customary decency, and in some sense regularity, I was influenced by and acted upon two hidden principles, as contrary to God as darkness is to light; the one, a prevailing desire of re- putation and being esteemed, which went tlucugh all I did, followed mc into all companies, dictated all I said, led me to compliance often in direct opposition to conscience, made me above all things fearful of being thf)ught little of, di- rected all my sermons both in writing and in speaking them, and in short swayed my whole life till, I hope, the few lat- ter years of It: The other, a desire of pleasure, which ren- dered me slothful, indolent, and restless out of company, eager after amusements, &:c. but this was so subordinate to the other, that I was always best delighted with such enter- tainments as gave me opportunity of setting off any ex- cellence I might seem to have, such as music and dancing. By these two the strong man kept the palace of my heart, and all was peace; and that in so strange a manner, that I do not recollect the least suspicion of my being out of the way ; for I had learnt to rest upon my freedom trom the grossest vices, and keeping a sort of strictness in attending upon the forms of my ministry, and especially in engaging others to attend them. Were I to say with how many heart-felt pangs of tear and disquietude I have been brought, during these latter years, to any reasonable measure of in- difference about the esteem of the world, I should describe the passages which have most ingrossed my mind. The love of pleasure decayed first: But yet I could only part with It by degrees : And many things of that sort I conti- nued in, when I had no pleasure in them, because I was asliamed to leave them." In a letter from a clergyman concerning the first ques- tion in the office for the ordaining of deacons, published in 1738, IMr. Walker says of himself, " As I was ignorant of the salvation that is in Christ Jesus, and of my want of him In all his offices, so I had not taken the least notice of the spiritual state of otiiers. It was to me as a tiling I had no concern with, that sins of the grossest kind were com- mitted on every side of me. And after I was ordained, I Jiad no sight or thought of the condition my parishioners were in, though I had some desire that they should come to church and sacrament, and not drink, swear, and the like."" But 358 ^V A L K E II. But the whole of this matter is explained more at large in a letter tvritten by him in the year 1753, to a friend in London, wherein he gives a particular account of his mi- nistry at Truro from the very beginning. " In the year 1740, 1 undertook (as curate) the charge of this )>o[)u]ous and large town, in many respects the principal town in the county. God knows upon what inivvorthy views I did it, and how utterly disqualified my Iieart and head were for my ministerial trust. I had been then some years vicar of a neighbouring parish. Eut, dear Sir, hew must I have suffered the poor souls there to starve and pei'ish, while I was oidy possessed of historical notions of all the vitals of Christianity ; the corruption of man's nature, his misery and helplessness ; the satisfaction and sufficiency of Christ ; the necessity of a renewed mind; tlie need of the work of the Spirit ! These I knew notionally, but neither felt nor taught them practically. You must own, I ought to go sorrowing to the grave upon a review of six years so passed over. Nevertheless I was thought Avell of, and indeed esteemed beyond most of my brethren, for my regularity, decency, endeavours to keep up external attendances, and somevrhat or other in my public addresses. Woukl to Gou I were the only one enstrusted with the gospel in these circumstances ! It was at least a year after the kind providence of God brought me hither, ere I fell under considerable suspicions or uneasiness about myself and my manner of preaching ; when by the frequent con- versation of a Christian friend, (verily the first person I had met with truly possessed of the mind of Christ) I became .sensible all was wrong within and without. My uneasi- ness was rather abiding than violent, possibly because my life had been free of gross sins, having been used in a good measure to follow the direction of my conscience, and the change wrought upon me was slow, till under a variety of means I was brought to the knowledge of the truth as it is in Christ Jesus."" In the beginning of the above account, our Autiior re- flects with concern upon the unworthy viev/s which pre- vailed upon him to undertake the curacy of Truro. In or- der to acquaint the curious reader what these unworthy views were, I shall here interrupt the narrative to inform him, that in many private conversations he often told me, that he was not actuated by the least measure of a minislc- rial spirit at the time of his first coming to Truro; but that bis only motive in going to live in that populous town, in preference to any other place in the county, was the greater resort W A L K E H. 350 resort of company, and that he might take his pleasure at the assemblies, and particularly in dancing. Such was the bent of his inclinations, before he was a partaker of the grace of God in truth. He was naturally a lover of plea- sure more than a lover of God. The letter goes on : " As this work was going forward in myself, the people were made partakers of the effects of it ; by and by I be- gan to deal with tiiem as lost sinners, and beat down for- mality and self-righteousness, and to preach ("hrist. The fruit of this, by the mighty working of the Spirit, quickly appeared. It was a new way to them. They were sur- prised and grew angry, not without an evident fear resting upon them, and an interesting curiosity to hear me again of this matter. I have reason to judge, that almost all of them have been one time or other awakened more or less, al- though I fear many of them have rejected the counsel of God against themselves. But, in the mean time, some more sensibly pricked in their hearts, came to me inquir- ing what they must do ? The number of these continually increasing, I thought my utmost diligence was needful to- wards them. They were universally ignorant in the gros- sest degree. I was glad to give them as many evenings in the week as I could spare, appointing them to attend me, after their work was over, at my house. As there was no knowledge of divine things amongst them, and in conse- quence thereof they were incapable of instructing one ano- ther; and withal, as they were marked out by reproach, and had every art tried upon them to draw them away, they needed from me both instructions and cautions, which I was obliged for these reasons to give them, either singly, or by two or three together. This I have continued to do to the present time, with no variation but that of using the help of those who had made any progress, to watch over beginners. I had from the first engaged them frequently to converse together, and pray with one another, as I could put them together; and though the far greater part of them fell away from their awakenings, yet when a number of them seemed to be sornew hat confirmed, they of their own accord met together in larger bodies in their own houses, to read God's word, pray, sing psalms, &:c. This became pretty much practised about two years ago, and herein I have left them to themselves, only giving them directions as need required. By the grace of God, the number of those whose conduct seemed to express a lively faith, be- gan now to be something considerable, for which reason about the latter end of last summer, it was thought advise _■ able. 360 WALKER. able to form tliem into a religious society, which, after some delays, was effected in the beginning of February. The number of members is now upwards of seventy. [It was afterwards considerably increased.] While I was delibe- rating about this society, which was to consist of such only as gave hopes of an edifying example, it was thought pro- per to call together as many others as were willing, in my house once a-week, as a sort of nursery for the principal society : And by talking and praying with them we seem to have found some establishment among those who are weaker. This hath been the progress of the work among ourselves, wherein I have reason to believe we have been much forwarded by the blessing of the Spirit upon a free and practical exposition of the church catechism, which I have, after my poor measure, made by word of mouth the Sunday evenings of half the year, an hour after service. I have to add farther, as that which I doubt not will give you pleasure, that not long after the commencement of this work at Truro, several clergymen of us in the Jieigh- bourhood associated ourselves under the name of the Far- sons** Club, for mutual consultation and direction, in order to promote the great end of our ministry." The pious Editor gives a full account of the nature and institution of these societies, and states at large many truly edifying particulars concerning Mr. Walker''s indefatigable labours, both with the people committed to his charge, and ■with soldiers and others, whom Frovidence placed in his "way. After which he adds : ' Thus were the labours of this faithful minister of Christ employed in superintending the flock more immediately committed to his care, in giv- ing his advice to those who came to consult him from neigh- bouring places, and in cultivating a spirit of religion among those who seemed to be more accidentally thrown in his way. To obviate one groundless calumny with which the care- less and lukewarm have often been apt to charge a life of serious godliness, as if it gave encouragement to the ne- glect of secular business, it may not be improper to remark, that at the same time that he was earnest in pressing it upon all that came to him for advice, to seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness, as the one thing needful, he never forgot to exhort persons of all conditions and occu- pations in life, to apply themselves with diligence to the duties of their respective callings : Telling them, as the strongest argument that could be urged, that the prosper! - ty and tranquillity of their souls would be more effectually promoted by a careful and industrious attention to the bu- siness WALKER. 3GI siness of their station, than by devoting themselves wholly to ttii^ 'jtudy oi r?li/>^on, to thy neglect of those employ- ments, which the j)iace that Goo had assigned them in the world required in ih'^'ir hands. The truth of wliich observation I have heard confirmed by the experience of tliose who have liearkened to his counsel in this particular. The twtnty-tifth sermon upon the catechism, which was preached at Truro on the 27th of April in the year 1760, and was the last discourse delivered by our iVuthor in pub- lic, deserves our particular notice. The subject is most awful and interesting, and the manner of treating it awak- ening and atT^'cting. Having in some of the preceding lec- tures considered in a practical view the resurrection of Christ as head of his body the church, his ascension into the highest heavens to prepare a place for his people, and his session at the right hand of Goo as the great Advocate and Intercessor, pleading continually before the Father the propitiatory sacrifice of his obedience unto death ; in this he represents him at his second coming as universal Judge, summoning all mankind before his righteous tribunal. The solemn transactions of the day of judgment being, as should seem to us accidentally, the subject of Mr. Wal- ker's last address to his parishioners, it gave him an oppor- tunity of speaking to them in such a manner, that, if he had been actually apprized that it should be his last ser- mon, he could not have taken his leave of them more pro- perly. After a very serious and earnest expostulation with the careless, idle, pleasure-loving sinner, he concludes with delivering as it were his dying words to a congregation, among whom he had ministered solong a time with so much zeal and assiduity, in this remarkable passage : •' Well, we shall all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ together. There tlie controversy between me calling upon you by the terrors of the Lord, and you de- termined to abide in your sins, will be decided. There it will appear, whether your blood will be upon your own heads for your obstinate impenitency, or upon mine for not giving you warning. Christ will certainly either ac- quit or condemn me on this behalf; and if I should be ac- quitted herein, what will become of yon .'' I tremble to tliink, how so many words of mine will be brought up against you on that day. What will you say, what will you answer, how will you excuse yourselves? O Sirs, if you will not be prevailed upon, you will eternally curse the day that you knew me, or heard one word from my mouth. Why, why, why will you die, with so aggravated a destruc- tion.^ 362 WALKER, tion ? O think of the judgment, think of it, and you will not be able to hold it out agair.st your own souls. May the Lord incline you to do so ; may he cause this word to sink deep into your hearts ; may he shew you all your danger; and with an outstretched arm bring you out of the hands of the devil, and translate you into the glo- rious kingdom of his dear Son, to his own glory and your unspeakable happiness in the day of the appearance of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Even so, most mighty Gou and most merciful Father, for the same Jesus Christ's sake." With these striking words did this faithful servant of Christ finish his public ministry. It has been made evi- dent, from the account of his constant attention to the du- ties of the sacred office, that he spared no pains in using his most diligent endeavours for the prom.oting of God's glory and the edifying the people committed to his charge : It will now appear from a fev/ selected extracts, taken from his own papers, that he dictated no rule to others v?hich he did not conform to himself; but that an intimate know- ledge of his own heart, and a deep experience of an in- ward work of divine grace, enabled Inm to direct others with such peculiar skill under their several trials in the way of salvation. Being himself converted, not to a notional assent remaining in the head, but to a lively operative faith working by love in the deep ground of the heart, he knew after what manner to strengthen his brethren. A Specimen of Mr. Walker's Experiences, and of his ivatch- fuiness over his own heart. Sunday, September 17, 1752. " Thursday night last I was risited witii a sudden and violent disorder, which in a few minutes brought my life into danger. Such was God's good pleasure. It was hisfiitlicrly goodness hereby to give nie a more practical and interesting sense of death and eter- nity. Hereby he luith taught me the great imjiorlance of every hour I live; I can say now, I feel it with a more ac- tive impression. ]\Iay I number my restored days wisely! nor may the things of this life ever more separate eternal things from before my eyes ! may I live to his glory, who hath thus lengthened my days ! Remember, my soul, in the confusion of the liastv hour, how little thou couldst do ; just no more than present a broken resignation of thy- self into the hands of thy heavenly Father. Remember liow thou wast oppressed with a spiritual insensibility; all the objects of faith how dead and Hat; how without either fear, or hope, or trust in any degree of lively exercise ! Ah. AV A L K E R. 3G3 All, my soul ! the dying hour is not for the work of reli- gion, for gaining an interest in Christ. This must be the business of my healthy days. In these I must seek to hum- ble my soul, renounce myself, cast off all dependence on mvseJf, and on every thing, which by tiie grace of God is wrought in me, and to work out my salvation drawn by the love of Jesus to yield myself to him the purchase of Ins blood. Now I must seek peace in believing on the Son of God, and prove that I have a title to justification through him by all the evidences of his Spirit woiking in me. Keep me in this faith, thou Mediator, with whom I do heartily trust my soul. Yea, increase this faith in me. And let me know that I belong to thee by the sanctification of my corrupt nature more and more. Sunk as I am into the grave and death of sin, let me hear the powerful voice of thy word, and feel thy quickening infhienccs upon my heart, and com.e forth, and live in h.oly obedience to thy call. Yea, let me live no more to myself. Thou hast given me warning, a sufficient summons to be ready, that by and by I must be away. Let me live to tliee, that thou mayest acknowledge me at thy judgment." Sunday, ]March 4, 1753. " By the endurance and good- ness of Goi> I am alive this day, and have been enabled without disturbance to renew the covenant of grace. Praise be to Goi), my mind was clear, my conscience quiet, and with due. deliberation, and without distraction I was before tlie Lord. I nuist bless him also that t!ie ordinance was with comfort. Faith seemed in exercise more than usual to see, receive, and in some measure to appropriate Christ to me in comnninicating. Though always I have cause to complain of tlie hardness of my heart, yet now I coidd in some sort mourn and love. I found heartiness in my purposes of serving the glory and interest of God in Christ, and was forward to make a full surrender of myself, depending upon divine grace. It has been a day with me signally marked Avith divine favour. Notwithstanding tlie insensibih'ty and unbelief of my heart, I am returned re- joicing. What now shall I render unto the Lord ? It may be, some greater trial thao ordinary is at hand. Let me be mindful therefore of the vows I have this day made. Thy peculiar suit, my soul, was that pride might no longer have dominion over us; that the loss of men's opinion and esteem might not fright on one side, nor tiie approbation of friends puff us up on the other. We sued also for a more enlarged spirit of love, that those who speak evil against us, or use us ill for the work"s-sake, may be enter- tained 304 W A L K E R. tained with compassion and forgiveness, without resent- ment or hatred. We sued for this charitable mind and de- meanour towards those mistaken persons, who, prejudiced to their own opinions, represent us as not preaching the word of God soundlj. Lord, it is thy pleasure to try me with the reproaches of the wanton and careless ; and with the misapprehensions of those who, having conceived unsafe evidences of faith, blame me that I speak not as they do, and ignorantly oppose themselves. I^ord, keep me in a charitable temper to endure with meekness the out- rages of the one and the prejudiced mistakings of the other of these, betwixt whom my lot is fallen to me ! We in- treated also thy blessing on our society of ministers. Grant, 0 God, that it may be a blessed instrument of reviving true practical religion. Keep us from pride, and debate, and jealousy ! grant us to watch over one another in love ! and be thou ever with us enlarging all our hearts with zeal, constancy, and charity, and mortifying the world and our lusts continually ; that as we are separated to the mi- nistry, we may mind this one thing, to feed the sheep. And to rae, O my God, give all needful direction, that 1 may speak boldly and prudently among them, humblv and affectionately, without pride or resentment. See now, my soul, the work before thee; but shrink not : Hemem- ber how God hath visited thee this day. Be strong and of good courage, and yet be fearful lest thou let any thing of all this slip. Thou great Shepherd, leave me not. Amen.'''' Tuesday, April 27, 1756. " I liave found myself this day greatly exercised by fear of men. I would, I hope, be, and live wholly to God's glory, and act as his interests re- quire ; but I experience a lurking desire of man's esteem mixing with the natural timidity of my constitution, which makes me inwardly draw back from any approach- ing trial, in which I am to look in the face persons of an angry and violent temper. It is to the free and mighty in- Huence of the Spirit of God I owe it, that this fear hath not dominion, and that, in despite of it, I am enabled to persist in the ways of God and the discharge of my duty, in opposition to this secret enemy. Yet I have reason to suspect, that though it doth not hinder me from doing, yet it cramps me in doing. I desire to wait with patience, to be humbled, to be thankful for the measure of liberty be- stowed on me, and to believe always that his grace is suffi- cient for me. How hard is it to be angry and sin not ! as much as self mixes, it is sinful. I think, not more than twice WALKER. S65 twice in my life have I been angry without plainly seeing sin. I suppose true gospel t-.-M; [zeal] does not ruflle the temper, nor leave any perturbation behind it. It must be perfectly consistent Avith meekness, and is sinful, if not accompanied with compassion : He. InoLcd about upon them Kith inib'gnalion, beii}g grieved at the hardness of their hearts. Surely our zeal and meekness bear proportion to o\ir humility. I have most zeal and least wildfire when I am most humbled in the sense of my sins. Lord, make me humble ! Lord, keep me humble V Tuesday June 15, 1756. " I know not how many evil tempers I have found working this day, particularly con- ceit, when conversing with . I have been kept from trials this day, so can say nothing Avhat degrees of preva- lence I am under of fear of men. I have come very short of that actual communion with God by meditation and ejaculation that I wish for." Monday, June 2S. " Sloth and business have prevented me on the days past from continuing my journal, but I am sensible of the want of it. I cannot walk closely with God without daily watchfulness and examination. Yes- terday's sermon related to a sense of the sinfulness of sin, as the great principle on which conversation stands contradis- tinguished from servile fear. I cannot be so clear as I wish on this point. — In private exercises I find a desire to serve God, and wish to see him glorified: But my heart I find exceedingly selfish in the world. — This day on the road to — , I enjoyed useful meditation two hours ; my heart much drawn up to God, and approving his service and presence : But in the remainder of my journey I was con- fused, and sometimes found myself carried away by carnal fears and proud reasonings. I resolved to be silent in the company 1 was to meet, if I might not be serviceable, and have found this evening the need and difficulty of being so: God grant me the spirit of meekness and charity.' Wednesday, Juno 30. " I find it exceeding difficult to hold communion with God when not more immediately engaged in ministerial duties. Conversation this day has been rather about religion than religious. I want more of Christ's temper of meekness, having reason to suspect myself too solicitous when blamed uiijustly. I see hoAv vain it is to think of gaining Christ without forsaking all. Lord, make me more and more dead to the world." Monday, July 5. " I was striving mucli in prayer last nigiit and this morning for a sense of the sinfulness of sin. My heart seems to have been quickened by it through the dav. 366 W A L K E Hr day, to keep close with God: Yet how often have I for-i gotten him ! O that I could love him more ! L have been- kept pretty much from fear respecting an approaching trial, being possessed with desire of professing Christ, with some confidence in his protection, and with compassion toward gainsayers. I have seen this day how needful it is to watch against a party spirit, and to love all that love Christ, leaving them to their own opinions, and to avoid love-de- stroying debates. I was rather affected than piously de- vout in tlie prayers at a funeral. — I ought to guard against a sort of desponding thoughts from external circumstances, and from carnal proud reasonings in my own heart." Wednesday, July 7. " Frame disordered at waking, though otherwise when I lay down. My comfort is, my salvation depends not on me, but Christ the same yester- day, to day, and for ever, though I am so changeable. — • Do I choose GrOD for my portion .'* If so, why do I forget liim so ol\en, and think of him so coldly ?''"" Monday, July 20. " On reflection, I see my safest wa^" is sitting dov»'n and abiding in the place I am called to. When absent from it, though in the way of duty, I do not so well retain the possession of my own mind. — This day I observed at waking, as I have often done, that the application of my heart to think on God was rather by force, it was not easy to keep him in view, though I had so many causes of thankfulness. — I have been engaged all this day in some needful service, yet find myself apt to seek imy own pleasure even in doing God's work. I ought to be more sensible of the importance of my office, and to de- pend upon and pray most earnestly for the influences of God's Spirit on myself and labours. To be humble in the sense of my vileness, and to believe the sufiiciency of Christ, I find the two hardest tilings I have to attain.'" Tuesday, August 10. " This club-day. I have not found such desire after it as formerly. This is a great fault. I am not thankful as I ought for sucli friends and opportunities: Nor do I meet them with suitable desires of receiving and communicating good. I should regard the club as a distinguished blessing, and as laying me under pe- culiar obligations, and be continually influenced by the expectations which the world has from us. God has re- moved some outward trials I have been under, yet I would remember that Christ is our peace."" Wednesday, August 11. " Apt to wander in family praver. My state is of very low advancement ; more espe- cially this appears by the unfrequent applications of my heart W A L K E R. 367 heart to God; a true spirituality of temper I suspect I need for this reason, and that suspicion demands my strictest inquiry. — Last week, when in trials, I seem to have been better than this when out of them: Let me inciuire, whe- ther I am driven to Christ by necessity, or drawn by love?" Monday, August 23. '' The devotions of this morning were shortened by the expectation of business. Somewhat like this often happens, and demands my greater attention. — Great experience this day of a corrupted heart; though not signally overcome, yet not watchlul as I ought." Tuesday, August 2%. " Public duty encroached on the morning"'s private exercise. — Had this day for some hours a peculiar fear of falling away : I observed the actings of faith v/ere weak, yet could not get them lively : Seemed, however, determined for God in Christ. — I aui certainly iniluenced by a })rinciple which makes me not unwatchful against sin, and not altogether unready to duty: But is it from the right motive, faith working by love .'' — Greatly >vanting in thankfulness," Jan. 6, 17/57. " I am well satisfied, the desire of esteem or fear of men hath too nmch influence on my conduct. Lord, turn the fear of men's faces into a love of their souls." We now come to finish this account of ]Mr. Walker''s life and ministry, by shewing his behaviour during his last ill- ness, and what support he found from religion while in the near views of approaching death. This, it will be con- fessed on all hands', is a .scene in Avhich the trutli and since- rity of a man's religion is put to the test. To disarm the king of terrors of every apjiearance of horror, and to wel- come his summons as a call from a vain and miserable world to a world of endless and unspeakable felicity, is the sole property of a firm faith in the God and Father of our Lonl Jesus Christ, who, according to his abundant mercy, liath begotten us again into a lively hope by the resurrec- tion of Jesus Christ from the dead. Now, as our Author perceived his soul to be greatly strengthened and established in grace tlie nearer he advanced towards eternity, so will the attestation ol" this matter of fact, which was ground of comfort to himself, be to others a special confirmation of the truths he maintained, when they are assured that v.n- der the influence of them he finished his days in peace, and committed his soul and body into the hands of God, witiiout the least doubt of being received into an happy immortality. After the 27th of April in the year 1760, as was before observed, Mr. AValker was disabled from per- forming any farther service in the public congregation. At 368 WALKER. At this time he was seized with a fever, which confined him several weeks to his room at Truro: When he had in some degree recovered his strength after the abatement of the fever, a cougli still hung upon him, for which, as it foreboded a consumption, he was ordered to Bristol for the use of the waters in the month of August. Having staid two months there with little or no benefit, he went in the autumn to Kington in Warwickshire, with an intention of spending some time with the Reverend Mr. Talbot, vicar of that parish, and afterwards of St. Gileses in Reading ; but, a bad season of the year coming on, he was ordered back to the Bristol wells. There he continued till the middle of December, when it was judged proper that he should be removed to some dry healthy spot in the neigh- bourhood of London, where he could^enjoy the benefit of a good air. Upon this, having before been invited by the Earl of Dartmouth to try the air at Blackheath, he went thither a few days before Christmas. Being situated in a place so near London, he had an opportunity of having tlif best advice; but it was not in the power of medicine to stop the progress of his disease. It is worthy our notice to observe how remarkably the providence of God raised up friends to supply his several wants throughout his ill- ness. After resigning the vicarage of Talland, the curacy of Truro was the whole of his income. The pay was but small, and his expences were necessarily increased to a great degree by a long continued sickness. But he had re- signed himself into the hands of God, and found the pro- mise verified, that he never will forsake those [Psal. xxxvii. 25. Matth. vi. 33.] who commit themselves to the care of his fatherly protection. Being in the house of the Earl and Countess of Dartmouth, he had all the assistance that his critical situation could require. Presents also were conveyed to him from his friends at Truro, and at other places, whose love to him was such, that they were ready to have furnished him with whatever supplies of money he might have stood in need of. And to the honour of those gentlemen of the faculty who were consulted, it must be recorded, that as soon as they were severally ap- prized of the circumstances of their patient, they not only gave their attendance gratis, but seemed to take delight in offering him their service. It appeared to be ordered, by a peculiar appointment of Divine Providence, that Mr. ^Valker, after he had finishctl liis ministry at Truro, should al)ide a considerable tim.c in the large and populous city of Bristol, and that he should afterwards WALKER. S69 tiftcrwards spent the last seven months of his life in the neighbourhood of the great metropolis. Several serious persons, both of the clergy and laity, in and about London and Bristol, visited him irequently in his illness, to whom his conversation was blessed in a very singular manner. By his knowledge and experience he was eminently qua- lified to lead others to an acquaintance with their own hearts, and to the discovery of the comforts and privileges of the gospel, as well as to instruct ministers in the faith- ful discharge of their important office ; so that, when bo- dily weakness prevented him from preaching any more in public, by his talent in conversing, in which he remark- ably excelled, he was made instrumental in promoting the glory of God, and the good of many souls. He con- tinued to the very last, whenever his strength would en- able him to speak, to give suitable exhortations to those that were about him. With regard to his own experiences in this last and lan- guid season of his life, of which he frequently spake to those about him, he complained in general of great dead- ness of spiritual affections, and of the absence of all sensi- ble impressions of joy and delight in the contemplation of the exceeding love of God towards him, and of his ap- proaching happy change. As he disavowed in principle any dependence upon religious frames as a recomm.enda- tion to God's favour, thinking it a scheme which savours too much of self-righteousness, and had learnt to cast his whole confidence upon the promises of God, freely offer- ed in the gospel of Christ, to sinners convinced of their guilt and helplessness; so he was quite contented and easy in his mind under the want of those sensations. But it is reasonable to suppose that the coldness and deadness of his affections were in a great measure, if not wholly, owing to the extreme weak state of his body. An inward burning fever, attended with profuse night sweats, had wasted his vital strength ; a stubborn cough continually hung upon him ; neither his food nor his medicines did him any ser- vice; a general languor oppressed his whole frame, and his spirits were reduced to a very low state. At those times when the powers of nature failed him most, he was wont to break out into such expressions as these: " What a miserable creature should I be in my present situation, if I could not look upon God as my Covenant-GoB, my reconciled Father in Christ.^ The weakness of my body and of my spirits deprives me of all joyous sensations; but my faith in God's promises, 1 bless the Lord, is firm and Vol. IV. 2 B unshaken. 370 WALKER. unshaken. What though my loss of strength and spirits robs me of all comfortable comnuinion with God, the promises are not therefore made void. Abraham be- lieved, and it v^^as counted to him for righteousness. I believe that God is faithful and true in all his declara- tions of mercy, which I have sought for, though I can- not now feel the impressions of his love.'' Upon seve- ral occasions he was heard to say, " I bless God, that upon the closest review of my life for these ten years past, I can see evident marks of my having lived with a single eye to the glory of God, in opposition to the selfishness of my nature." And likewise, " The nearer I advance towards eternity, the more I am confirmed in the truth of the doctrines which I have preached and published. I am sure they will stand the test of the last day. Conviction of sin, original as well as actual, is the grand inlet to all saving knowledge ; where this is w^ant- ing, the superstructure will not stand ; but if this foun- dation be deeply laid, the heart will then welcome the glad tidings of salvation." Upon the whole we may observe, that under a continu- ed absence of all sensible comfort he possessed his soul in the most settled, abiding, solid peace, never admitting the least doubt of his acceptance with God. Nothing was more remarkable in him than the constant, even, and un- disturbed tranquillity which he maintained under the fre- quent changes that attended his disorder. It sometimes happened, that upon an alteration of his medicines there appeared hope of his recovery : At such times he was ob- served to take delight in the prospect of returning to the exercise of his ministry among his people at Truro, of whom he never spake without evident tokens of singular pleasure and satisfaction in them; sometimes not without tears of affection, and tender concern for the welfare of their souls. When these short-lived hopes were vanished, and the dangerous symptoms of his disorder returned, no alteration appeared in the frame of his mind : He only turned his views to the awful scene that called for his more immediate attention, and spake with equal delight of the joys reserved beyond the grave for the faithful ser- vants of the living God. It never could be discovered, that he desired to live or wished to die. His soul was all submission to the will of his heavenly Father, and his whole concern seemed to be, to preserve that temper of mind, wherein lie might have said with St. Paul, None of ns livetk to himself, and no man dicth to himself. For whe- ther WALKER. 371 the)- we live, we live unto the Lord, and whether we die, we die unlo the Lord: Whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lonfs. His patience was not worn out, but strength- ened and increased, by the continuation and increase of his sufferings. If at any time, which seldom happened, an ex- pression had escaped his lips that seemed to savour of fret- iuhiess or impatience, he was observed to check and re- prove himself: vVt the last, indeetl, patience appeared to have had her perfect work, for nothing of this kind was dis- covered in him for some time before liis death. What he endured within the last six weeks from an inward parch- ing heat, is almost inexpressible. His only apprehensions under these trying circumstances were, lest his patience should not hold out, and that he should wish for a release sooner than God should see fit to grant it. But the Lord was pleased to preserve in him a spirit of resignation to the last. To this view of his behaviour in this his last scene I shall subjoin two letters, written by him to his nearest and most intimate friend at Truro. The former is dated fifteen days, the latter but five, before his death. " My dearest, most faithful Friend, " My disorder, though by no means affording to myself the least prospect of recovery, yet seems to affect me at present more with weakness than with that violent heat, which rendered me incapable of all thought. I can now, blessed be God, think a little, and with what comfort do I both receive your thoughts and communicate mine to you! O! my dear friend, what do we owe to the Lord for one another! more than I could have conceived, had not God sent me to die elsewhere. We shall have time to praise the Lord when Ave meet in the other world. I stand and look upon that blessed world with an established heart: I see the way prepared, opened, and assured to me in Jesus Christ: And for ever blessed be the name of God, that I can look upon death, that introduces that glorious scene, without any kind of fear. I find my grand duty still is submission as to time and circumstances. Why should not I say to you, that I find nothing come so near mv heart, as the fear lest mv will should thwart God's in any circumstance; here I think I am enabled to watch and pray in some poor measure. Well, my dear friend, I am but stepping a little before you. You will soon also get your release, and there we shall triumph for ever in the name, and love, and power of the Lamb. Adieu. Your''s in the Lord ,Tesus Christ for ever. Amen. Blackheath, July 4, 176L " S. W.'^ " My 372 VV A L K E R. " My dearest Friend, " With great confusion of thought, I have no doubts, great confidence, great submission, no complaining. The great thing, which I always I'eared, is, I believe, coming upon me, that I am coming into a diarrhoea, confined to my bed; and have no strength. As to actual views of the joys that are coming, I have none, but a stedfast belief of them in Christ. What I have found in myself for months, both as to the review of time past, and the present work- ings of the Spirit, has left me without all doubt of my union with Christ, &c. Blackheath, July 14, 17G1. « S. W." On the Tuesday morning he dictated the above letter, fof at that time he was not able to hold a pen in his hand. A few hours after, the symptoms of his approaching dissolution began to shew themselves, his tiiroat rattled, a cold clam- my sweat ran down his cheeks, and the muscles of his arms and face appeared to be convulsed with frequent spasms and contractions. liis heart, to use his own expression, seemed to him to be tied round with thongs. He still spake of these presages of his death with the utmost calmness and composure, and begged of his friends about him that they would pray for him, that he might hold out with patience unto the end. It being observed by one of them sitting on his bedside, what a blessing he enjoyed in his present situa- tion, that his soul was ripe for heaven and eternity, he inter- rupted him with saying, " That the body of sin was not yet done away, but that he should continue a sinner to the last gasp, and desired that lie would pray for him as such." Thus lowly and humbly did he think of himself, even un- der all his attainments in grace. In this lingering manner he continued the five or six last days without any other vi- sible alteration in his body than gradually growing weaker. But notwithstanding all his former deadness and dryness of soul which he complained of, it pleased God to shed abroad in his heart a lively sense of his love and favour, and a strong foretaste of heavenly joy, before he took him to the enjoyment of himself On the Thursday, starting up from an apparent fit of dozing, he took hold ol' his nurse by the hand, who was sitting near him, and uttered this rapturous expression : " I have been upon the wings of the cherubim; heaven has in a manner been opened to me: I shall be soon there myself, and am only sorry that I cannot take you with me." The next day, while a young cler- gyman, who came from a distant part of the country to visit his departing friend, was standing near his bedside, he lift WALKER. 373 lift up bis eyes in a manner tliat bespoke a joy more than words could utter, and addressed him thus : " Oh ! my friend, had I strength to speak, I could tell you such news, as would rejoice your very soul : I have had such views of heaven — But I am not able to say more." On the Satur- day, his voice faultered exceedingly, and his head seemed rather to ramble. We scarce imagined he could have lived out the day, and indeed had he not been a remaikably strong made man, it is not conceivable that he could have supported it so long under so severe and fatiguing an ill- ness. He passed the night however in extreme weakness; and about nine o'clock the next morning, it pleased God to release him from all his sufferings. The evident concern of some of his particularfriends, upon the increase of his dis- order, sometimes affected him; on which account, think- ing, it is probable, that the sight of his last agonies might give them j)ain, he one day said to a servant that attended him, " I would I might, slip away, when nobody but you should be present;" and so indeed it fell out, for just when all except that person had left the room, not apprehending him to be so very near his end, he turned his head a:;ide on the pillow, and nature appearing to be quite exhausted, without any other token than a sigh something lonrrcr, and more deep than usual, his soul was delivered from th-^? pri- son of the body. He departed this life in a lodpng-house at Blackheath, to which he had been removed a fbvv weeks before, on Sunday, July 19, 17G1, in the forty-eiglith year of his age, and entered upon his Sabbath of eternal rest. It was his particular direction, that his body should be in- terred in the church-yard of the parish in which he died. In compliance therewith he was buried in the church-yard of Lewisham in the county of Kent. The folloNving table exhibits a view of his Works made public. " I. A Sermon on 1 Samuel xx. S. at the funeral of a young man that was drowned as he was bath- ing on Sunday, June 3, 17.53. II. The Christian, a set of practical Sermons, 1755. III. A Sermon on Amos iv. 12. preached at Truro, 1756. IV. A Letter from a Clergy- man concerning the first question in the office for the or- daining of Deacons, 1738. V. Regulations and Helps proposed for promoting religious conversation among Christians. VI. A Discoui'se on the Necessity of being acquainted with our fallen State. VII. A Familiar Cate- chism, 1759. VIII. A Short Instruction and Examina- tion for the Lord's Supper. IX A Treatise on Convic tion of Sin. X. A Familiar Introduction to the kno\v- ledge 374 GUYS E. ledge of ourselves, 1761." Several other small Tracts were published monthly by himself and other Ministers. Of the abovementioned '.vritings, The Christian, a small volume consistiufT of eleven Sermons, passed through a se- cond and thijd edition in the years 1755 ai5d 1759, with a recommendatory Preface written by the late Reverend Mr. Thomas Adam, rector of Wintringham in Lincolnshire. JOHN GUYSE, D.D. Ti HIS eminent and excellent Divine was born at Hert- ford, in or about the year 1680, of very pious and wor- thy parents, and blessed with a careful and strictly reli- gious education. It pleased God to call him very early by his grace ; insomuch that he was admitted a member of the confjrewation of Protestant Dissenters in that town, at fourteen years of age. His views also were, very early, towards the work of the ministry ; accordingly, ali his youthful years were spent in close application to study, luider the direction of several worthy and able instructors, first in the learned languages, and then in the several branches of academical erudition. He entered upon the ministry in his twentieth year; and Providence soon open- ed a door for his public ministrations at Hertford, as an assistant to the aged and worthy Mr. Haworth. Soon af- ter this settlement, Mr. Haworth was removed by death, and the congregation united in their call of him, to be their stated minister. This, with great reluctance and self-dif- fidence, (after a considerable time) he was encouraged to undertake: And here God was with him; and, for many years, he continued his labours among them with a great de- gree of acceptance and success. During this situation, in 1718, he preached that excellent occasional discourse, on the " Evil of Self-seeking," in a meeting of ministers at Koyston ; the publication of which was extorted from him. For some time the congregation was not a little exposed to the attempts of some who were deluded by the Arian sentiments; w^ierefore, though Mr. Guyse had several pressing invitations to leave Hertford, (particularly when the Reverend Mr. Nesbitt was incapacitated for fur- ther work) which were greatly to his temporal advantage; yet he declared, he saw it clearly to be his duty to abide with his flock, as long as they were iu any danger from ' that G U Y S E. 375 that quarter. He did so ; and God honoured him with the greatest success in his diligent endeavours for confirm- ing them in the truth. It would have been happy if other ministers in the dissenting line had l)een as faithful as our Author against this Arian heresy, which rages like a pesti- lence among many of their congregations, and especially in the west of England. If ever there was a time, when they ought to contend earnestly for the faith delivered to the saints, when they should maintain the proper Divini- ty of the great Redeemer, when they should press upon the heart the doctrine of the blessed Trinity, and all the glorious chain of truths which are connected with it, it is Now. For now, above all the times which have passed over the dissenting congregations, are they threatened with a torrent of such dangerous and pernicious errors, as can- not but overwhelm those who espouse them, and also ex- terminate the very vitals of experimental religion (as they have ever done) from those establishments, who have maintained them. A few years after, Providence clearly directed Mr. Guvse's remove to London. He had, for some time past, enjoyed but a very imperfect measure of health ; his stated labours, every Lord's day, were too much for his bodily strength; an hectic feverish habit constantly succeeded the work of the Sabbath, and that to a degree which threatened his being wholly laid aside. His physician and friends rightly judged, that a change of air and situation, and the lessening his labours, by the help of an assistant, might, with the divine blessing, be a means of improving his health : At the same time the death of the Reverend Mr. Matthew Clarke made way for a call to succeed him as pastor of his congregation. He thought it his duty now to remove; and he has often mentioned the argument which a worthy senior in the ministry (the Reverend Mr. Bragge) used with him upon this occasion : It was to this effect, ' There are seve- ral reasons for a minister's lawfully leaving his people, and this is certainly one, when, upon full trial, his labours are too great for his health : Christ does not call his servants to kill themselves in his service : He is too good a Master to require it, and too i^rf^at a one to need it.' Here it pleased God to crown his labours with success : His sphere of ac- tivity and usefulness was now greatly enlarged, and he was enabled to exert himself to most useful and important pur- poses. By a uniform, religious, and friendly carriage, he rendered himself dear to his brethren in the ministry, and highly valued and esteemed by all. His reputation as a scholar^ 376 G U Y S E. scholar, Christian, and divine, was widely spread, and his worth was generally known : Accordiaglj, in 1732, the University of Aberdeen, without his knowledge, conferred on him the degree of doctor in divinity ; which title ot esteem he accej7ted of with a modesty and decency becom- ing the Christian, and which (it were to be wished) did al- ways as much honour to the Scotch universities in the dis- posal, as it certainly did in this instance of Dr. Guyse. The Doctor was at this time engagL-d in preparing a large and excellent work for the press, " A Paraphrase on the New Testament, in three volumes, quarto C a work which cost him a great deal of labour and close study, and is executed with a great degree of exactness and care. He has shewn herein his solid judgment and learning, and, without any affectation and needless pomp of criticism, has given the reader as full a view of the sense of the best in- terpreters, and as comprehensive an insight into the scope and meaning of the New Testament, as is likely perhaps to be met with, in the same compass of words : It is in- deed a performance too well known to need any other than its own recommendation. The Doctor was favoured with a considerable share of health for many years ; but in the latter part of lite he was afflicted with a very painful lame- ness in his leg, and also with a gradual decay of his sight, till he grew totally dark ; still he continued frequently to appear in his delightful work, with his usual firmness and alacrity of mind ; and thus he went on, though under vi- sible decays of strength and vigour, till within a few weeks of his decease, yet with little sensible inconvenience to any but himself. Dr. Guyse's character and conduct were uniform and amiable in all the various points of light. In his religious principles he was fixed, steady, consistent, and open : He was never ashamed to own what he believed ; or to vindi- cate it, when it was opposed. As a preacher, he was en- dued with excellent ministerial gifts : His compositions were solid, regular, well digested, and highly scriptural ; his knowledge and readiness in the Scriptures were very re- markable, the number of texts he quoted, chapter and verse, and for the most part repeated with exactness, after he had entirely lost his sight, afforded surprise to many. As a pastor, he was an active, able, loving, and faithful guide and ensample to his flock, both in faith and practical godliness : He studied the thinors which made for peace and godly edifying ; and as he had the v.elfare of his peo- ple greatly at heart, so there are few ministers to be found, who G U Y S E. 377 who are more honoured and esteemed by tlieh* people than the Doctor was. His natural temper (it is well known) was exceeding sweet and engaging, and he filled up the several relations ot'life in a most hapjiy and amiable manner. Few persons in the world were more exemplary in Christian and relative duties. It was his constant study to maice every one about him hajipy; and indeed, he was alvays best beloved by those who had the opportunity of knowing the most of him. Pi is very amiable disposition, heightened by a spi- rit of real religion, caused him to step forth as a constant friend 'and patron to a number of poor ministers; for whom he annually solicited the contribution of his friends, towards raising a fund tor supplying their necessities. Re- ligious young men, who were designed for that sacred office, were also sure to find in the Doctor a kind and faitiiful adviser, patron, and friend. And to every needy object, without the least ostentation, would his heart and hand often open to minister to their necessities: He made conscience of disposing of the tenth part of his annual in- come to charitable uses. When it was judged necessa- ry, that some farther measures should be taken, as a means under providence for contiiming to the dissenting congre- gations the succession of an able gospel-ministry, the Doc- tor joined heart and hand with those ministers and gentle- men, who formed tliemselves into a society for that impor- tant end. He continued a member of this society to his death ; and though it is too common a frailty in good men to yield to fickleness and disgust, when every thing is not conducted exactly to their own wish, the Doctor's good temper and good sense kept him clear from these things ; he wisely kept iii view the importance and usefulness of the design, and therefore steadily persevered in promoting its interests. His latter end to a remarkable degree was peace ; he was enabled to leave the world with great com- posure, serenity, and hope of a blessed immortality. In his last weeks of confinement, he witnessed a good and a pre- cious confession: He again and again declared his faith firm fixed upon Him who is the Rock of ages ; his hopes were alive to Goo, without a distressful cloud: " Thanks be to God, I have no doubt, no difficulty upon my mind, as to my eternal state ; if I had, I could not be.ir what I now feel I I know in whom I have believed, here my faith rests ; the peculiar doctrines of the gospel, which I have long preached, are now the support of my soul, I live upon them every day : Hence I derive a never-failing comfort." At S7S G U Y S E. At another time, " How good is my God to me ! How often has he made good to me that promise, As thy day is^ so shall thy strength be.'''' His great request, to the last, of them that were about him, was to read the word to him, and to join in prayer with him ; the reading of the vth chapter of 2 Cor. was of singular use and satisfaction to his mind ; on which he commented to tliis effect; Verse 1. For we know, that if our earthly house of this iabirnacle were dissolved, &c. *' Oh, when shall it be dissolved indeed ! when shall this mortal put on immortality !" Ver. 2. In this wc groan earnestly, desiriyig to be clothed upon, &:c. " This, this is my earnest desire, and what I am waiting for."" Ver. 4. For we, that are in this tabernacle, do groan, being burdened. " For this I groan daily, and ere long shall groan no more." Ver. 5. A'^oic" he that hath wrought us for tiie aelf-same thing is God, who also hath given unio us the earliest of his Spirit. " This I have, this I do enjoy, and therefore am I confident, &c. — I am not afraid of death : I am afraid I should err, on the other hand, in being too desirous of it." Thus on the morning of the Lord''s Day in which he died, still was it the language of his heart and lips, " When shall I get through this valley ?" And some of the last vv'ords he was capable of pronouncing, so as to be understood, were, " Oh my God, thou who hast always been with me, will not leave me." Sweet confidence ! and blessed readiness ! With the apostle he was desirous to depart, that he might be with Christ : Which fervent wish of his soul was granted him on the ivventy-second of November 1761, and in the eighty-first year of his age; when that gracious promise was fulfilled, Fsal. xci. 16. ]Vith long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation. The late pious, learned, and amiable Dr. Conder,whopreachedhisfuneral sermon from Psal. xxxvii. 37, Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright ; for Me EXD o/'that man is peace, says, ' Such was the life, and such v»as the end of this excellent and dear Servant of Jesus Christ, that they are a striking comment upon my text, and are a lively exemplification of the character and end therein described.' The Doctor had one son, the Re- verend Mr. William Guyse, of excellent abilities and mi- nisterial talents, who was for some time his father's assist- ant, but died about two vears before him. His Works are, I. " Jesus Christ God-Man ; or the Constitution of Christ's Person, with theEvidence and Im- portance of the Doctrine of his true and proper Godhead ; considered in several plain and practical Sermons, on ]^om- G U Y S E. 379 Rom. ix. 3, II. The Holy Spirit a divine Person, or the Doctrine of his Godhead represented, as Evident and Im- portant, in several practical Sermons, on 1 Cor. xii. 11. III. The standuig Use of the Scripture to all the Purposes of a divine Jlevelation, and more particularly to Patience, Comfort, and Hope: With the Method, Wisdom, and Advantages of understanding it, and giving it due Enter- tainment : In several Sermons on Rom. xv. 4. and Col. iii. 16. IV. The Evil of Self-seeking; a Sermon preached at a Meeting of Ministers at Royston in Hertfordshire. V. Areligious Education recommended, in a Sermon preached at Pinner's Hall in Broad-street, March 13, 1728, to the Society that supports the Charity School in Horsly-Down, Southwark. To which is added, an Account of the Cha- rity School. \T. Youths' Obstructions in their Way to Christ and eternal Life; considerpd in a Sermon preached at Little St. Helen's, May 1, 172S. VII. Youth remind- ed of a Judgment to come ; in a Sermon preached at Pet- ty-France, Dec. 25, 1728. VII I. Early Seekers of Christ directed and encouraged ; in a Sermon on Prov. viii. 17. preached at Petty-France, May 1, 1729. IX. A Sermon on Jolm xi. 25, 20. occasioned by the death of the Reve- rend Mr. John Asty, Jan. 20, 1729-30. Ml. 51. preached Feb. 8, in Ropemakers Alley : To which is added a Post- script, relating to the reverend Mr. Samuel Chandler's second letter to the Author about preacfniig Christ, &c. The second edition has marginal additions. X. A Sermon preached at the separation of the reverend ]\Ir. John Hal- ford, to the pastoral office in the church of Christ at Horsly- Down, Oct. 24-, 1724<. XI. A Sermon preached to the So- cieties for Reformation of Manners, at Salter's-Hall, on Monday, June 30, 1735. XII. Youths' Monitor, in six Sermons preached to young people. XIII. God's Alarm to Great Britain ; or an Enquiry into our public Mercies, and Abuses of them; our Danger and Way of Deliver- ance; a Sermon preached on occasion of the General Fast, Jan. 1739-10. XIV. The Tendency of Liberality to Riches, and of Covetousness to Poverty : A Sermon preached at the Old-Jewry, March 3, 17-H-2, to the So- ciety for Relief of the Widows and Orphans of Protes- tant Dissenting Ministers. XV. A Sermon, occasioned by the death of the Reverend Mr. John Ubbard; preached at Stepney, July 24, 1743. XVI. A Volume «)f single Sermons, collected together by the Doctor himself in his later years ; a large octavo. XVII. A Paraphrase on the New Testament above-mentioned, which may be consi- dered as his principal Work." 380 T. JONES. THOMAS JONES, 1VJ,A. Late CHAPLAIN of St. SAVIOUR'S, SOUTHWARK, J[ HIS excellent Man was called to stand forth in support of the trutlis of the gospel at a period, when those truths seemed to have but little impression among the members of the established church, to which he be- lontred. At that time, a minister of the church of England, who ventured to maintain her articles and homilies in doc- trine, and who supported them in fact by a holy life and experience, was a kind of prodigy in the world, and (though awful ;it [he to say it) met with nothing but cen- sure, persecution, and hard names, from all ranks and sorts of men. And though in following the path of duty, which both the word of God and the principles and ru- l)ric of the church pointed out and enforced, an upright minister could expect no advantages of a temporal kind, but the contrary ; yet there were not Avanting those, who, measuring others by themselves, would slander and abuse him, as having nothing in his view but the mammon of unrighteousness. In short, worldly men of all professions feel so severe a reproof, not from the words only, but from the lives and conversations, the principles and views, of gracious ministers and real Christians, that they cannot endure what serves for so striking and so standing a re- proach upon themselves. And when the number of these is but few, then the world, as it hath uniformly done at such times, seeks to run them down by voices and by names ; if it be not permitted to go as far as it otherwise would, and oppress them by violence and cruelty. In the former part of this century, the established mi- nisters, who thought themselves bound in conscience and duty to support their own articles by preaching and living, were but thinly scattered over the land. It might then be said of them, Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasle. But, nearer the middle of the century, they became yet more scarce; and, before the revival of religion, which en- sued about forty years ago, an evangelic minister was hard to be found. Our pulpits sounded with morality, deduced from the principles of nature and the fitness of things, with no T. JONES. 381 lio relation to Christ or the Holy Spirit, all which the hea- then philosophers have insisted upon and with perhaps more than modern ingennity; and, in consequence, our streets have resounded with heathen immorality. We had flowery language in the church, and loose language out of it. There was no apparent spirit or grace in the public service; and the private life discovered none. Nay, the people were taught not to expect it, but to esteem every thing of a su- blime and spiritual influence, as enthusiastic and delusive. This strange infatuation (to call it no worse) proceeded so far, that the minister, who but a few minutes before, could pray witii the congregation to God, " who teacheth the hearts of his faithful people, by the sending to them the light of the Holy Spirit," and could ask, for them and him- self, that God " would grant them by the same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things, and evermore to re- joice in his holy comfort,"" and could further petition " for the inspiration of the Holy Spirit to cleanse the thoughts of their hearts, that they might love and magnify his holy name;" I say, it occurred, that the ministei', who could litter these excellent words in the desk, has changed his lan- guage, as well as his white garment, in the pulpit, and re- viled the whole of such sentiments and expressions for cant, rhapsody, and nonsense. Nothing could come of such methods as these, which have too long and too much in- fected the church, but that practical ungodliness which has in consequence overrun the land: And nothing can set up a standard (to use the prophet's words) against this flood of sin, but the Spirit of the Lord, whose name, nature, and office, have been so vilely and daringly traduced among us. In tins unhappy time, Mr. Jones, with a very few others, was called to stand forth in the defence of the gospel. He had great gifts, and great grace. He needed both for the work, to which Providence called him. His sweetness of natural temper, great as it eminently was, would never have supported him under tiie numberless insults he met with, had it not been strengthened, as well as adorned, by a sublimer influence. It was this, and only this, which enabled him to overcome evil with good, as well as to have not the fonn only, but the poiver of godliness. His intimate and dear friend, the lieverendlMr.Romalne, Iws given so full an account of him, both in a funeral ser- mon preached upon the occasion of his death, and in a pre- face to the volume of his works, that we are happy to tran- scribe 382 T. JONES. scribe as much as possible from it into the memoir of so valuable a man. Before the Lord was pleased to call him, he was walk- ing in the error of his ways, like others who know not God ; in the vanity of his mind, having his understand- ing darkened, and being alienated from the life of God through the ignorance that was in him, because of the. blindness of his heart. Of this, however, God made him deeply sensible; and he was never ashamed to own it. His first awakening was by the gradual working of the law upon his conscience. It was not by outward means, such as hearing the word preached, or by some afflicting provi- dence, sickness, trouble, or the like, but by the inward conviction of sin, wrought by the Spirit of God upon his conscience. He had his strongest convictions where he had not the benefit of any outward means. The views which he had hereby of his state and danger were very deep and distressing. While he was under this soul-concern my acquaintance first began with him ; (says Mr. Romaine) and since that time, which is about eight years ago, [i. e. in the year 1754,] our great intimacy and friendship has given me a constant opportunity of being a witness of God's gracious dealings with his soul. He went mourn- ing for a long time, bowed down under the sense of guilt and the power of unbelief. In this school of humiliation he learnt self-knowledge. Here he was taught the sad effect of a ruined, spoiled nature; of a soul depraved in all its fa- culties, estranged from the mind and will of God, and governed by its own corrupt and stubborn will, command- ing the body to give up its members as instruments of un- righteousness unto sin. Here he was taught what sin is, namely, the transgression of the law, which is exceeding sinful, because the law is holy, just, and good, a perfect copy of the divine perfections. And here he was taught the damnable nature of heart-sin, which is the fountain from which all sin flows, and wliich, in the heart of the natural man, is ever flowing over. He learnt these lessons with such a deep experience, that the impression lasted all his days ; for when God shewed him great mercy, and he was enabled to believe in the Lord Jesus, still he found nothing of himself wherein to glory. Humble and low in his own eyes, he was ready to give the honour to whom alone honour was due. Yea, after he was greatly strength- ened and established, so as to live by faith on the Son of God, still he knew that all was mercy. Mercy, free mercy, had from him all the praise : And this was so much the T. JONES. 383 the frame and abiding temper of his mind, that it appeared on all occasions: His spiritual friends and acquaintance can witness, tliat he was clothed with humility, and that he walked humbly with his God. A demonstration- this, that he had found mercy, because he had made it the end and aim of his life to shew forth the praises of that free mercy, which he had so freely received ; and as he lived, so he died, acknowledging himself an object of mercy. By faith the Cluistian is engrafted, as a branch, into the true vine ; so by faitli Mr. Jones was a fruitful branch. He did not seek to bear fruit to make himself alive — the fruit does not make the tree alive ; but to testify his love and gratitude, to do good to men^ and above all to fulfil what is written, Herein is my Falhcr glorified^ (says Christ) that ye hear vivch fruit, John xv. 8. That ye keep faith so constantly in act and exercise upon me, as to be always receiving out of my fulness grace for grace : For life, and the acts of life in every grace, are in and from me ; and the more you live by faith in me, the more will my Father be glorified. — This was what Mr. Jones happily experi- enced in his heart and in his life. A person who lives thus by faith will be humble in heart: Every act of this faith declares his emptiness and want of all spiritual good, while it leads to Christ for his promised supply : And this was remarkably Mr. Jones''s case, he was humble indeed. The witnesses are as many as knew him : But how much he was emptied of self, and enabled to live in an humble depend- ence upon the grace and strength of Christ, best appeared from his own life, in which through faith many precious fruits were produced. Love to precious souls was the great motive that directed his views to the work of the ministry, and was that which carried him through all the trials and difficulties he met with in ])rosecution of this great design. His own fiock in particulai', to v.'honi the Lord had made him overseer, was much upon his heart : How frequent and how earnest in prayer for them ! and, to the last, he did not forget them. In his sickness he would be often crying out, " Lord, feed thy sheep ; Lord, feed thy sheep." He was always study- ing and contriving something that might be useful to their best interest. There is an alms-house in St. Saviour's pa- rish called the college, and some small stipend for doing duty in it. Mr. Jones thought it was not right to take tiie mo- ney, unless he did the duty. Accordingly he began to read prayers, and to expound the Scripture in the college chapel, and went on for some tinte. The congregation Avas; 384 T. J 0 N E S. was very large, and the success was very great. Many souls were in this place first awakened, who are now walk- ing in the faith and fear of God, adorning the gospel of our Saviour; and some are fallen asleep, whom we have seen leave a testimony that they have followed their pastor, and entered into the joy of their Lord. But here he was stopt, and refused the use of the chapel. After this he set up a weekly lecture in his church ; but he had not preached it long, before he was denied the use of the pulpit. Mr. Jones, however, not discouraged by all this, went on giving away good books, some of which he carried in person to every house in the parish, catechizing the chil- dren, who came weekly to his house for that purpose; and paying religious visits among his parishioners, when they used to talk freely of the state of their souls. By these methods he tried to win his people to Christ, beside the stated duties of his office, in performing of which he seemed to set God always before him, and to be greatly drawn out to his hearers, of whom a very great number I trust did frequent his ministry, not led thither by the ease of his delivery, the sw^eetness of his voice, or the smoothness of his periods, but because they felt the weight and impor- tance of the doctrines he preached. Several people, who will be his joy and crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus, hearing him preach upon the entire ruin of man by the fall, were convinced that they were in this state, and upon the entire recovery of man through Jesus Christ, were enabled by his \vord and Spirit to believe in him for righteousness, and to live upon him for grace to walk, as he also walked. These things are not mentioned with a design to set him above any of the Lord's ministers : He had no such thoughts when living: No one could think more meanly of himself than he did. As he was adorned with so many graces in his private life, and with so many public, who should have the praise, but the Giver of them all, even that good Goo who shewed him mercy, and in whose sight he was so precious as to have his marvellous loving-kindness continued even unto death ? He was afflicted for some years before his death with a disorder that kept him very low, and brought him often to death's door ; during all which time his growth in grace was great and remarkable. The victory gained over the old man was never more manifest, and his deadness to the world never more apparent. Belying upon the promise, Sm shall not have dominion over you., he proclaimed war against all inward lusts and risings of sin, and set upon thera in T. JONES. 385 m the power and strength of the Lord : And being much exeixiscd in this part of the Christian warfare, the Lord did wonders for him in giving him grace to crucify the old man of sin. God's great love appeared in his great chasLenirjgs; for whom he loveth he chasteneth. lie re- fines all his people in the furnace of afflictions : In it was Mr. Jones refining for many years, and much dross had been done away; and he(;ause he was prccwns in tlic sight of the Lord, he was tried like gold, ajid purilied seven times in the fire. In the wholesome school of adversity he had learned resignation to the will of GoD, and under his long weak state of health to kiss the rod and be thankful, and under the reigning power of grace to subdue impatience, fretfulness, and nun-muring, with all those sellish tempers whicli want to liave our will and not Gdd's to be done. In tiiis school he learned to live by faitli in Christ, in all his odices ; as a prophet to teach him wisdom to lead him to Cri.>D; as a priest to bring him near to Goo by his aton- ing blood and rigiiteousness ; and as a king to keep him near to i'^Oii, ruling in him and over him. This faitli was tried, and it grew by trials. The more it was exer- cised the more did he find of the safety and happiness of living by faith on the Son of God. And hereby he learned what the patience of the saints is; namely, an act of faitli under outward afflictions, looking up to God for grace to hold out as long as the afflictions last: And such was Mr. Jones's patience under a tedious illness, never being heard to murmur ; and upon his death-bed he was afraid of no- thing but impatience; and Goo out of the tenderest love kept him, till patience had done its perfect work. He grew also dead to the world, and experienced what the apostle means, when he says, the world is crucijied to me, and I unto the world. Its pleasures, its riches, its honours, were nothing to him. He did not despise them because he could not get them, but he jjarted with them freelv, when he hail them in his own power. GoD had provided for him a coudbrtable maintenance;* but he laid uj) nothing, except for the poor, to whom he gave libe- rally of what he had, and with a willing uihul. As to honour, * This maintenance very little exceeded one liundrcd jxuinds a-year. Ttit It was surprizing (by lliat fnigulity which dislii.girish.d the primitive C'hrisi'.iiis) how much uo'kI he did wiili it. He did not appiar to live for iiimself, even in the cumiiiun ninans and matrers of liinnan lite. All jitemed in tiim in be devoted lo (iou and to Godliness. His compassionate heart could svmpathi/c wiih ibo .sorrows of ineji, and his gracious heart wa>i aUvnys e:(aer lo vclieve ibein. VOL. IV. 2 C 386 T. JONES. honour, he wanted not that which was from men : He was led to choose a better: He has it now. And this deadness to the world was of great use to him wlien he came to die. Then he had the comfort of it, as appeared from that sweet expression of his on his death-bed — " It is not dying out of the world, but dying in the world, and parting with all its toys and Lrilie?, and that not with sickness or pain." And being thus by faith dead to the world while in it, what should make him afraid to die out of it ? Me had been so >ong kept under the cross, that it had been the means of crucifying the world unto him, of subduing his own will and his own temper, of trying his faith, and of exercising his patience. And as the cross was thus made profitable to the mortification of the old man, so was it to the quick- ening and strengthening of the new man. You could not converse with him, without being put in mind of the meekness and gentleness of Christ. In his behaviour, in his conversation, he shewed, that he had put on, as one of the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kind- ness, humbleness of mind, long-suffering ; ready to bear with others, and ready to forgive, as Christ had also freely forgiven him. These amiable graces of the new man ap- peared in all his conduct ; and particularly in all his mi- nisterial labours, in which it was easy to discover his great kindness and tender love to perishing sinners. His last sickness was indeed sweetened with divine love : His faith, his resignation, his comforts failed him not. A gracious God shewed how dear and precious he was to him, by removing every thing that could render death in . the least dreadful ; and although his fever was violent for seven days, yet his soul was still and calm. He was not even suffered to have one doubt concerning his interest in Chi'ist, but lived happily, and died rejoicing. At intervals he spoke much to the comfort of his attending friends ; we hope it may be also to the instruction of his surviving fel- low mortals. Humility of heart was the distinguishinff part of his chaz'acter. Hereby appeared the genuineness of his faith, whose every act declares our emptiness and want of ail spiritual good, while it leads to Christ for the promised supply. When waiting therefore for his dissolu- tion, he demonstrated to all how greatly the Lord had humbled him. Speaking about the state of his soul to one, he declared, " That as a dying man he had nothing to trust to but the Redeemer's righteousness ; and that his faith in it had been so strengthened during his illness as now to take away all doubt and fear." Now were brought into lively exercise T. JONES. 387 exercise the graces of the uew and inward man ; faith was vigorous, hope unclouded, and love undivided. These made the approach of death welcome, as he found in his last moments, when he said, " An eternal life of glory for a life of misery I — Who would not change misery for happi- ness? Hasten, — O hasten, dear Lord." And in one of his weakest hours, " Blessed be God for that degree of faith which he hath given me; for though it has operated in so weak a manner, yet I have many blessed and comfort- able marks in my own soul of his love to me." Here was faith indeed. He could find nothing in himself to put the least trust in as to acceptance with GuD, and therefore his trust \v'as stronger in Christ: " What an unfelt, what an unthought-of corruption," he cried at another time, "is here both in body and soul ! My tlesh and my heart faileth, but Go I) is the strength of my heart and portion for ever." His ground for this he declared was, " a covenantof mercy^ free grace in the Lord Jesus," in which, knowing that he had his share, he could say, " Now, let thy servant de- part in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation. — Now, Lord, I can lay me down in peace, and safely take my rest." Li this happy frame he was praying, " Lord, secure a soul thou hast died to save;" when, after a pause, he cried, " he will, he will: I liave part here; I shall have all soon." On the Friday before he died, GoD was pleased remarkably to visit him with a sight of his salvation: " I have had a glorious view," said he, " of the love of Christ to my soul this morning :" And this love shed abroad in his heart brought many sweet words out of his dying mouth ; such as, " For me to live is Christ, tp die is gain." — " Come, Lord Jesus ; come quickly, and give me an easy dismission." — " Lord, give me an easy dismission to a blessed eternity." — " Ere this time to-morrow, perhaps, I shall be where all sorrow is done away." — " I shall have a Sabbath of Trinity, before I thought of it, to worship a tri-one God." To Mrs. Jones, he said, " Do not be sur- prised at anyalteration youmay seein me; for death always makes strange alterations. When the Lord is pleased to give me my dismission, rejoice over my corpse, and praise God for what we have suffered together here, and for what we shall enjoy together hereafter." Towards his latter end he was much in prayer; and these were some of his expressions : " The silver corJs of life are breaking; man goeth to his long home ; and the mourners go about the streets : — Lord, guide me home in safety, and lead me through the shadow of death. — ThLi mortal shall soon put on 388 T. J O N E S. on immortality: — Though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another. — I go hence like a shadow that declineth ; I wither away like grass ; bufe the Lord is the portion of my soul, and my strong hope. — I am so full of pain indeed that I can think but little ; yet I know that Jesus is carrying on the interests of my poor soul notwithstanding." And one of his last sayings was, " I am of the church of the first-born, who shall stand on Mount Sion; one chosen from among my brethren ; a sinner saved, a sinner saved." And thus not only safely but triumphantly did Mr. Jones exchange this lower world of sin and sorrow for the pure unmixed joys of God's eternal kingdom above, on the sixth of June ]7(i2, in the thirty- third year of his age. Two brothers, who had received much edification from his ministry, erected a decent monu- ment of their own kindness for his memory in St. Saviour's churchy whei'ehe was bm'ied,withthefollowinginscription: Sacred to the Memory of the Rev. THOMAS JONES, A. M. late of Queen's College, Cambridge, and Chaplain of this Parish ; who died June the 6, 1762, Aged 33. This Monument is erected by JOHN and JOSEPH STREET, Gents.; as a Memorial of the Edification they received from his faithful Labours in the Ministry ; A. D. 1770. His Works, which are printed in one volume Svo. London, 1762, consist of sermons: The eight first are en- titled, " An Exposition r/f the Church Catechism." The I. is from Heb. viii. part of the 10th verse. The II. from Maxk i. and latter part of the 15th verse. The III. from St. James ii. 24 The IV. from John xiv. 15. The V. from 2 Chron. vii. 14. The \ I. from the same text. The VII. from John iii. and latter part of the 5th verse. The VIII. from 1 Cor. x. IG. Two sermons preached at St. Saviour's, entitled, " Re- pentance and Reconciliation with Gon, recomn)ended and enforced: One from James iv. 9, 10. and the other iro?n Matth. v. 25, 26. with a serious and affectionate Ad- dress to the Inhabitants of the said Parish. A sermon preached before the several Associations of the laudable Or- dei' I T. .TONE S. 389 tier of Anti-Gallicans, from Joshua xxiii. 11, 12, 13. A Sermon, entitled, The Beauties of Spring, (.'ant. ii. 10, 11, 12, 13. A Funeral Sermon, entitled, The Good of Afflic- tion, John xvi. 83. latter clause. A Sermon preached before the Society for promoting Religious Knowledge among the Poor, on 2 Cor. v. 14. A Visitation Sermon, Acts XX. 2(). latter part. A Charity Sermon preached at St. Botolph's, Eishopsgate, from Psal. xlviii. 9. ' As to the style of these discourses, and the manner of the composition, it does not become me (says his biogra- pher) to force my judgment upon the public. Let them speak for themselves. Mr. Jones was aware of their want- ing many ornaments which false taste admires, and has accordingly made iiis aj)ology in the preface to the sermons uj)on the Catechism. He had little time to study the fine turned period, or the pointed sentence ; and he did not think the gospel stood in need of the arts of" human orato- ry to recommend it. He endeavoured to profit more than to please. And as his labours were chiefly among his own parishioners, he believed tiie importance of gospel truths, plainly delivered and enforced, would be more useful than any enticing words of man's wisdom. Upon this plan he composed tlie sermons in this volume, and they were drawn out into public view at the earnest entreaty and solicitation of his hearers, to whom lie gave them up as they were preached. He could not prevail with himself to refine their manner or to polish their style; and this their present plainness is with me a great recommendation. The matter is of far more consequence than the manner; for what is the end of preaching but to profit the hearers? And they are not profited by the excellency of speech or of wisdom, but by the demonstration of the Spirit and of power ; which did certainly accompany those plain discourses when delivered from the pulpit : May the same accompany them from the press !' It is an anecdote which deserves to be recorded, that, between twenty and thirty years ago, when one only pul- pit in or about the great metropolis, and that only on a Sunday or Thursday afternoon during term-time, was accessible for the pure doctrines of the gospel and of the church, a certain number of serious persons met at stated times for the sole purpose of praying, that God would be pleased, in his mercy to the establishment, to raise up faithful ministers in it, who should sound forth the gospel of his grace as in the days of old, when the establishment was adorned with gracious pastors iu all pai'ts of the land, ?nd 390 P E x\ R S A L L. and to give theii' minutrj abundant success. Within a space it pleased Goi> to answer these petitions, by raising up one and another, insotr.ucli tliat at this time (and it ought to be mcntionpd >vith gratitude) tliere are very many ministers, both in town and country, vvlio think it the true way of honouring the cliurch by aiaintainipg her own es- tabh'shed articles, and the only way o!' serving God in the salvation of souls, by preaching his word laithiViily, by feed- ing the flock duly, and by living among them constantly, nnd all this not for fMiy lucre sake, hut of a ready vn'nd, their great expectation being, wheji the chuj' Shepherd shall appear, to receive a crovi^n oj' glory that Jadeth not away. RICHARD PEARSALL. 1 HIS evangelical minister was born at Kidderminster in Worcestershire, on the 29th of August 1698, and re- ceived his education in a dissenting academy at Tewkes- bury in Gloucestershire. In process of time he entered upon the ministerial service, and was fixed for ten years at Bromyard in Herefordshire. Fiom thence he removed to Warminster in Wiltshire, at which place he continued his ministry for sixteen years; and, finally, he setted in Taun- ton in Somersetshire, where he exercised the sacred func- tion for above fifteen years, and from thence was called to heaven on the 10th of November 1762. His writings discover the piety and grace with which God had blessed him. They are not only evangelical, but ingenious ; and though he does not exceed Mr. Hervev in these respects, whose style he seems to have admired and imitated, yet his contemplations may be read with pleasure and profit, especially by younger minds, to whom they are particularly adapted. His Contemplation on the Ocean, &c. in two volumes, 12mo. were published by himself, and are mentioned by Mr. Plervey with regard, in the third volume of his Theron and Aspasio. His Reliquia Sacr was pleased to bring upon him an earnest concern for his own salvation, and consequently for that of his flock at Todmorden. This immediately became visible by his reformstion. He quickly left all his diversions: his fishing, card-playing, hunting, ?;c. And he now began to catechize the young people, to preach up the absolute necessity of a strict and devout life; to visit his people, not in order to drink and be merry with them as before, but to exhort and press them to seek the salva- tion of their souls, and to enforce what he had delivered to them from the pulpit. At this period also, he began himself to pray in secret four times a-day. A blessed practice, which there is rea- son to believe he never left off. The God of all grace, who had now prepared his heart to pray, soon also gave the answer to his prayer: Not indeed in the way in which he expected ; not in a complete victory over his corrupt nature, nor at that time in the joy of a conscience bearing him witness, that in simjdicity and godly sincerity he was walking before him: But by bringing upon him very strong and painful convictions of his own guilt, and helplessness, and misery; by discovering to him, w^hat he did not sus- pect before, that his heart was deceitful and desperately wicked; and, what was more afflicting still, that all his du- ties, and labours, and goodness, could not procure for him pardon, or gain him a title to eternal life. Very painful ap- prehensions therefore now seized his mind, of Avhat must become of him. In the midst of which, he was often ready to accuse God, as dealing hardly with one who was now no more a profane or careless liver, but seeking in earnest to obey him. But this was the work of the law upon his conscience, and the preparation of his soul for the gospel of peace. Under this he was indeed exceedingly miser- able, being buffeted with blasphemous thoughts and horrid temptations: And about this time also two of his parish- ioners attempted to make away with themselves, though their lives were remarkably preserved. Being sent for t(» one of them, the thought struck him, thai very possibly ht G R I M S H A W. 399 he might ere long do the same, for aught he knew or could do to the contrary. In this state of great trouble l)e continued more than three years, not daring to accpiaint any with tlie distress he suffered, lest they should report that he was cither mad or melancholy. But, by these lasting and deep convic- tions being brought to a deep acquaintance with the cor- ruj)tions of his own heart, and to the knowledge of its sin by the law of God, enforced upon him by tlie Spirit af God, and being therefore made willing to receive salva- tion freely, and to consider himself humbly as a hrcmd pluck" ed out of the burnhifs; the dav of his consolation and know- ledge of Christ, infinitely precious to his soul, graciouslv drevv near. The bible began now to appear quite a new book. He found the rich import of those Scriptures, which declare the sacrifice and righteousness of Christ to be the whole atonement and justification of a sinner before God, and which testify the remission of sins to believers on his name, and sanctification as the blessed effect of this believing, in growing evidence of that remission. " I was now (says he) willing to renounce myself, with every degree of fancied merit and ability, and to embrace Christ only for my all in all. O what light and comfort did I now enjoy in my own soul, and what a taste of the pardoning love of God!" As he was thus taught of God in his own experience, so his preaching, in the year 1742, began to be clear and profitable. He dwelt much in rejiresenting the nature and excellencies of Christian failh, and salvation by Ciirist alone. All this time he was an entire stranger to serious persons, or to tiiose who were the occasion under God of the revival of religion among us. He was also an entire stranger to their writings, except a single sermon upon Gal. iii. 2$, and a letter to the people of England, published bv the Rev. Mr. Seagrave, in which he was surprised to find the nature, life, spirituality, and power of truth and doctrine, in all material points, to be the very same with what he now saw clearly in the vvord of God, and from which his peace had entirely llowed. Dr. Owen's book on justification was also of great use to him about this time. In the month of May, in the same year, instructed in this manner, Mr. Grimshaw came to the people and church at Haworth near Bradford, in Yorkshire, and very soon the good effects of his preaching became visible among a people ignorant and brutish, as the face of the country is wild and rugged. JNIany of liis careless flock were brought into deep concern for the salvation of their souls, and were filled 400 G R 1 M S H A W. filled with peace and Joy tlirough believing. And as in ancient times, before preaching was debased bj modern re- finement, and, alas ! to such a cold and languid exercise, that generally one can scarce observe a decent attention to the minister in t!ie pulpit, his people felt in their hearts a deep conviction of sin; and the whole congregation have been often seen in teai\s, on account of their numerous pro- vocations against Gou, and under a sense of his goodness in yet sparing them, and waiting to be gracious unto them. This lively, powerful manner of representing the truths of God could not fail of being much talked of, and bring- ing, out of curiosity, many hundreds to Haworth church : And there they received so mucii benefit by what they heard, that when the novelty was long over, the church continued to be full of people, many of whom came from far, and this for tv.enty years together. Indeed, nothing but this will draw souls heartily together, or (according to the prophet's language) as doves to their windows. Mere morali- ty, derived from man's ability, neither comes warm irom the heart, nor goes warmly to it. With the trash of human attainments and human endeavours, all fallen, corrupt, fee- ble, and depraved, no soul living can be satiated. Whert men preach these, (to use the words of Milton) ' The sheep look up, but are not fed.' It was the pure truth of the gospel which brought men to reformation from popery, and which only can ])roduce true reformation at any time. It was this which hath drawn thousands from the church to various dissenters, where it hath been preached by them ; and it is the preach- ing of this alone, as we have abundant proof, that can fill our churches again, Mr. Grimshaw Avas now too happy himself in the know- ledge of Christ, to rest satisfied witiiout taking every me- thod he thought likely to spread the knowledge of his God and Saviour. And as some indigent people con- stantly make their Avant of better clothes to appear in, an excuse for not coming to church in the day time, when their want would be visible to the whole congregation, he contrived, for their sakes, a lecture on Sunday evenings, though he preached twice in the foriuer j)art of the day. In which lecture a chapter or a psalm, after the primitive custom of the Christian church, was expounded God was pleased to give great success to these attempts, which animated him still more to spend and be spent for Christ's cause: So that the next year he began a method, which was continued by him ever after, of preaching in each of the four hamlets under G R I M S H A W. 401 tnuler lils care three times every month. By which means the old and infirm, who could not attend the church, had the truth of God brought to their houses; and many, who were so prol'ane as to make the distance from the house of God a reason for scarce ever coming to it, were allured to heaj', and at length received with joy the word of life. By this time, the great attention and labour, with which he instructed his own people ; the circumspection and ho- liness of his conversation ; and the lasting benefit, which very many iroin the neighbouring parishes had obtained, by attending his ministry ; all concurred to bring upon him many earnest entreaties to come to thehouses of others, who lived in neighbouring parishes, and to expound the word of God to souls as ignorant as they were themselves^' before they had heard instruction from his lips. As the purest benevolence was the only motive to this request ; so all, who knew Mr. Grimshaw, are assured, (and what others think or say matters not) nothing ])ut love to the souls of men, and a desire of proving a blessing to them, engaged him to preach, as occasions offered, in other pa- rishes. So that whilst he was one of the most diligent in overseeing, and providing abundantly for all in his own flock, he annually found opportunity of instructing, near three hundred times, large companies, and sometimes large congregations besides. After he had preached for the first time in any place, he commonly thanked the person into whose house or barn he was received, and added, " I hope you will give me leave to come again." Mr. Grimshaw thus went on preaching fifteen, twenty, and often thirty times in the week, and that for fifteen years, or upwards, besides visiting the sick, and other occasional duties of his function. To one of his friends in a neigh- bouring parish, whose wife had been sick, he thus apolo- gized, " I am sorry, that I have not been able to visit your wife: I have not wanted inclination, but time ; for I have had thirty times to preach this week." It is not easy to ascribe such unwearied diligence, and all amongst the poor, or at least very obscure people, to any motive but the real one. He thought his tongue should never lie still in guilty silence, whilst he could speak to the honour of that Ouj^, who had done so much for his soul. And whilst he saw sinners perisiiing for lack of knowledge, and no one breaking to them the bread of life, he was transported by loveto pity ihem, and,notwithstandingtheselfishreluctance he felt within, to give up his name to still greater reproach, as well as his time and strength to the woik of the ministry. VOL. IV. 2D What Am G R I M S H A W, What a reflection should this afFord to that laziness of heart (to call it by no worse a name,) which thinks the service of God, after naming it in prayer before him, a " perfect freedom," to be a hard burden, and which courts easy duty and large fees only for an indulgence to the flesh, and to hold up a sort of foolish and unmeaningrespectin theworld. During all this intense and persevering application to what was the whole delight of his heart, God was exceed- ingly favourable to him ; for, through the space of sixteen vears, he was only once suspended from his labours by sickness, though he ventured in all weathers upon the bleak mountains, and used his body with less considera- tion, than a merciful man would use his beast. His soul, at various times, enjoyed very large manifestations of God's love, that he might not faint ; and he drank deep into his Spirit. His cup ran over, and at some seasons, his faith was so strong and hope so abundant, that higher degrees of spiritual delight v/ould have overpowered his mortal frame. These are the things which sweeten and which prompt to duty. In this manner Mr. Grimshaw employed all his talents even to his last illness : And his labours were not in vain in the Lord. He saw an effectual change take place in many of his flock; a deep sense of evil and good, and a striking restraint, from the commission of sin, brought upon the parish in general. He saw the name of Jesus exalted, and many souls happy in the knowledge of him, and walking as becomes the Gospel of Christ. Happy he was himself, in being kept by the power of God, so unblameable in his conversation, that no one could prove, that he, in any instance, laid heavy burdens upon others, which he him- self refused to bear. Happy in being beloved, for several of the la^t years of his life, by every one in his parish ; who, whether they would be persuaded by him to forsake the evil of their ways, or not, had no doubt that Mr. Grim- shaw was their cordial friend, and in every labour of love their servant to command. Hence, at his departure, a general concern was visible through his parish. His behaviour, throughout his last sickness, was all of a piece with the last twenty years of his life. From the very first attack of his fever, he welcomed the approach of death, ills intimate experimental knowledge of Christ abolished all the reluctance, which nature usually feels to a dissolution; and, triumpjiingin him,Avhois the. Resurreclion and the Life, he departed April the seventh, 1763, in the fifty-fifth year of his age, and in the twenty-first of eminent usefulness in the G R I M S H A W. 403 the cluirch of Christ. His bodj was interred with what W' more ennobling than all the pomp of solemn dirges, or ofi a royal funeral : For he was followed to the grave by a great multitude, with the most affectionate sighs and with many tears ; and who cannot still hear his much-loved name, without weeping for the guide of their souls, to whom each of them was dear as children to their father. We are indebted, for much of the preceding account, to a ' Sicetch,' drawn of it, by the excellent and faithful minister of Christ, INIr. Venn. But it would not be just to the memory of such a man as Mr. Grimshaw, nor to the reader's edification, if we did not collect every authen- tic fragment concerning him, so that nothing useful, if possible, might be lost. A manuscript account, which I have concerning him from a person wiio was much with him, mentions several particulars, which are too extraordinary and too valuable to be buried in silence. Like the pious Herbert, he usually called his Savioiu* by the name of his ^Master: And a precious Master he was to his soul. He would frequently say, " My God, my Jesus, my Master; I love, I love thee indeed, but how shall I love thee enough!'" At the very mention of his name, he would often pause, and then break out into some express admiration of his love. In performance of divine services, and especially at the communion, he was like aman at times with his feet on earth and his soul in heaven. In prayer, he would indeed " take hold (as he used to express himself) of the very horns of the altar," which he added, " he could not, he would not, let go, till God had given the blessing:" And his fervency often was such, and attended with such heart-felt and melting expressions, that scarce a dry eye was to be seen in his numerous congregation. He was of a trulv catholic spirit. He loved all, who loved Christ, of all deno- minations. He had too much of his love to be a bigot to a party, or to be a censorious critic of those, who professed or practised the piety of the gospel. There were none of whom he did not wish to think well : and certainly none to whom, if in his power, he would not do well. In his labours he was abundant indeed. Scarce ever a day passed without his preaching : And, if it did, 7ion diem perdidit ; he did not, like the philosophical emperor, ' lose the day/ It was s])cnt in private or other holy duties. He rarely preached fewer than twenty times, often near thirty times, and, upon one occasion, above thirty times, in one week. O hear this, ye that call yourselves ministers of Jesus, pastors 404 G R I M S H A W. pastors of his flock, and teachers of the people, who seldom or never preach at all ! The employment of his life was in sermons, prayers, and praises. His sublime soul was lifted up above the crawling ambition and filthy covetousness of this world. He aimed to live like a king-priest to his God, and to win for him and gain for themselves immor- tal souls. ^Vhat his parisliioners brought him for dues, he took without rigour or exaction. He used to tell them ; " I will not deserve your curses, when I am dead, for what I have received for my poor labours among you: I want no more of you, than your souls for my God, and a bare maintenance for myself His life testified to the truth of his words. What he received was not spent in luxury of any- kind, but, all above his own necessities which were few, was laid out for the good of others. None but the plainest cloathing and food were his requirements for the body ; and these, he would frequently and humbly say, were much more than he deserved. What can such religious pro- fessors think of this, who are always carefully thinking about adorning their persons, and spending their time and property in the pomps and vanities of a world, which they affect to renounce ? If an humble simplicity in all things can become any men, surely it must the men, who talk of Ibllowing the meek and lowly Jesus. This simplicity was evident in Mr. Grimshavv. He also abhorred wastefulness, even of-a morsel of bread, and strictly observed all the fru- gality, for which the primitive Christians are mentioned >vilh honour. " How, says he, can those persons answer before God for the food which they deny to poor Chris- tians, and throw away upon dogs ?" It was his custom to go from house to house, warning and exhorting evtry man^ concerning tiie salvation of Jesus. When he heard of any families, who wilfully absented themselves from the church, he would give notice of preaching at or before their houses, and, in his discourse, would tell them, " If you will not come to church to hear me, you slmll hear me at home ; and, if you do perish, you shaill perish with the sound of the Gospel in your ears." To some, who were sick and ihen sent for him, but who refused to hear him in their health, he used to say, " Now the hand of God is upon you, and you think the devil is ready to take you, and hell open to receive you ; now it is, — Send for Grimshaw :" And he conversed with them, in the true spirit of love and faithfulness to their souls, insomuch that these occa- sions have often proved the happy conversion of many. He had great comfort in the seals to his ministry. One year, when G R I M S II A W. 405 wlien he had buried eighteen persons, he said, that " he had great reason to believe, that sixteen of them were en- tered into the kingdom of God." He used means to make his parishioners constant in their attendance at church ; and when the law of Gon and his own love to them did not prevail for that end, he would readily make use of the law of man. Those who slept in the time of divine service he would rebuke before the whole congregation. There are some exemplary circumstances in his private life which ought to be recorded, and which shew that he was uniform and consistent; not a mere outside professor, held in admiration by others, but a Christian at home, in his closet, and in his heart. His usual hour of rising was about five, and the melody of his heart rose with him. His first gratulation was con- stantly that excellent doxology composed by Dr. Watts : Praise God, from whom all blessings flow ; Praise Him, all creatures here below ; Praise Him, above, ye heav^ily Host; Praise Fathek, Son, and Holy Ghost! He would then join in prayer with his family, those who visited, and those who would come to it. But pre- viously he read the psalms and lessons appointed for the day. After this morning sacrifice, he would take an af- fectionate leave of them, like one who might see them no more, using this kind benediction: " May God bless you, in your souls, and in your bodies, and in all you put your hands to do this day I Whether you live or die, may the Lord grant that you may live to him, and for him, and with him, for ever!" Tins custom he observed at night before he took leave of them for rest, which was common- ly about eleven o'clock. His charity knew no bounds but his circumstances. As his grace and faitiifulness rendered him, through the Divine blessing, useful to all; so his benevolent liberality particu- larly endeared him to the poor. He frequently u^ed to say, " If I shoidd die to-day, I have not a penny to leave behind me." Indeed, he was his own executor, not leav- ing a sum of lucre, only because he could not take it with liim; and yet he did not quit the world in debt, as his friends imagined he would, from his readiness to give. He had prudence as well as grace, a justice as well as genero- sity of soul. His accounts, indeed, were easily kept, for he lived from day to day upon his Master ; but there is a reckoning made of them, though not by himself, which shall never be blotted out or forgotten. Th^ 406 G R I M S H A W. The animosity or differences of men afforded his tender and affectionate spirit nothing but pain. No labour was too great or too long, if their reconciliation might be his own reward. When he has met with some luiconamon degrees of perverseness or obduracy, he has been known to fall upon his knees in tears before them, beseeching them in the bowels of Christ to love one another, and of- fering them to tread upon his neck if they would but be at peace among themselves. He had drank deep into the ]ove of God, and this induced, as it ever will induce, the most disinterested love towards men, and especially to- wards them that arc his. The failings of professors are too often a cause of the severest sorrow to his mind. He was unspeakably fearful at all times, lest the glory of his Master, the interest of the gospel, and the welfare of souls, should be hijidered or abused. There are many things of this kind mentioned of liim which might appear too much like empty encomium to recite, because the world, and the professing world too, know but i^w examples of any, who walk so closely with Christ, and, of course, so humbly with their God, as did this blessed man Mr. Grimshaw. What would be flattery to many, is scarce the truth to him. His humility, indeed, was conspicuous among all his graces to those who knew him. Few mortal men ever thought or spake more meanly of themselves, or could en- dure less to be spoken well of. In this respect he most entirely resembled the meek and excellent Leighton. He seemed to have the apostle's precept always before him ; in honour preferring one another. He made no distinction of denomination the measure of his love towards Christians : The love of Christ to them guided his love most closely too. He used to say, " I love Christians, true Christians, of all parties : I do love them ; I will love them, and none shall make me do otherwise."" He was twice married, and was happy in relation to his "wives, as fellow-heirs of the grace of life ^ and joint parta- kers of the kingdom of God. Though he was, in the latter part of his life, much af- flicted in body, yet he bore all with the patience of faitii and the endurance of hope. He said, " I expect my stay iipo1\ earth to be short, and I nmst endeavour to maketiie most of a short life, and so to devote myself to God, as not to go fearfully creeping towards heaven at last.'' All his time was time redeemed. He counted the value of his hours, and mourned if any appeared to be lost. Jt G R I M S H A W. 407 It was always matter of grief to him either to see or hear of persons walking unworthy of their high vocation. Evangelic principles and Antinomian practices were a co- alition which he could not endure. He hungered and thir:5ted after righteousness himself, and would say, *' That holiness was a precious gift and a precrous privilege." What God hath done for us by Christ, what Gou doeth in us by the Holy Spirit, and what God v, ill do to us in all his Persons hereafter, ought never to be separated from the Christian's faith, hope, and practice, throughout his life. This was Mr. Grimshaw's religion, or rather the religion of Jesus in him. A life thus spent in communion with God, it may be expected, would be blessed by him in its end. And it was so. For him to live was Christ, and to die was gain. These last words, from Phil, i. 21. were taken as the text of a sermon, preached upon the occasion of his death, at St. Dunstan's in the West, London, by the lleverend Mr. llomaine, on the 17th of April 17G3, ten days after his decease. Some notes, concerning Mr. Grimshaw, taken down at the time, may not be unacceptable to the reader. ' Mr. Grimshaw (says the excellent preacher) was the most laborious and indefatigable minister of Christ that ever I knew, and I believe one of the most so that ever was in England since the first preaching of the gospel. For the good of souls he rejected all hopes of aflliient for- tune, and for the love of Christ cheerfully underwent dif- ficulties, dangers, and tribulations. He preached Christ, and Christ alone : And God gave him very numerous seals to his ministry. Himself has told me, that not fewer than twelve hundred were in communion with him ; most of "vvliom, in the judgment of charity, he could not but believe to be one with Christ. He has often preached five times in a day, and rarely less than three or four; and to do this would travel likewise forty or fifty miles. And when some of his friends in tenderness to his health, would press him to spare himself sometimes, he would answer, " Let mc labour now, I shall have rest enough by and bye. I cannot do enough for Christ, who has done so much for me." He was the most humble walker with Christ I ever met with, insomuch that he could never endure to hear any commen- dations made to him upon his usefulness, or any thing which belonged to him. He caught the disorder, a malignant fever, of which he died, in visiting his fiock, among whom it raged; and nothing could dissuade him from this dan- gerous attendancCj when he thought his duty demanded OX' 40S G R I ]M S H A W. or some needy souls required it/ — His last words were : " Hkhe goes an unprofitable Sekvant." It is with great pleasure and gratitude I acknowledge the kindness of my ever-valued and respected iriend and rector upon many occasions, and, among them, for the commu- oiication of a letter, written to him from INIr. Grimshau, not many months before his death, and containing an ac- count of his faith and hopes, which had been often soli- cited by, and often promised to him. Tliere needs no apology for presenting this excellent Declaration or Creed to the reader ; and, accordingly, I shall not offer to trou- ble him with any. The Rev. Mr. Grimshaw to the Rev. Mr. Romaine. Howarth, December 8, 1762. " Reverend and dear Sir, " Yesterday I received your kind letter, and must as- sure you, I reap as much benefit and comfort, and, I dare §ay, much more from your letters than you can do from mine. Your account of books sent in the box is right as to those bound and stitched: But the number of Mr. Jones's Funeral Sermon is only an hundred, though you say there were an hundred and twenty-five : Such a mistake may be easily made. — You left twenty-five with me : So that in all I have one hundred and twenty-five, but no more. — I'll send you money for them the first opportunity. " As to my Creed, so long promised, so long looked for, and so often called for, such as it is, I here send you at last. " I, I BELIEVE, that God made man, like all other animals created out of the earth, perfect ; endued him with a reasonable and immortal soul, and united his soul to His Spirit. — Thus created, and thus related to Him- self, He laid man under a covenant of works. — This cove- nant he was competent of keeping, not by virtue of his cre- ated abilities, as the old, particularly the Puritan, divines feign, (for I think there is no clear proof from the Scrip- tures for it) but by the power of the Holy Si'Irit, to Whom he was united. — And " II. I believe so long as his soul kept an eye to the dictates of the Spirit, excited His power, and in so do- ing, fulfilled his condition of the said covenant, and^kept his natural appetites within bounds ; so long he continued innocent and happy in Paradise.^ — But, " III. I BELIEVE, that the moment he was prevailed upon by the serpent, at second hand, (viz. by means of his wife) to eat of the forbidden fruit, he died, (that is, he was G R I M S H A W. 409 was divested of liis relation to God) — he that instant lost his life, light, power, innocence and happiness. — He be- came a mere Ichabod — a dead, dark, helpless, guilty, mi- serable mortal. '* IV. I BELIEVE, that the way that the old serpent went to effect man's fall, was the very same that he uses at this day. — First he assailed the animal part, and then the rational part, if I may so speak of the man. — Any other way would not answer. — The soul was too near the spi- itiT, to operate, or attack that first. — Reasoning with him first will not do. — Alluring the senses must be the first step. — The eye first was allured with the beauty, and then the taste with the sweetness of the apple. — By this means Satan crept nearer the soul, diverted the eye of his mind from God, and got the desired opportunity to reason de- ceitfully with him, in the manner recorded in Genesis iii. and gained his point. '* V. I BELiKVE, that Adam, by this means reduced in- to the above said miserable condition, begot a son in this fallen image, and thence all his posterity in the same, a dead, dark, helpless, guilty and miserable brood. " VI. I BELIEVE there was in Adam, and is in every man, an innate principle, which I call Desire of Happi- ness.— It may seem, that Satan in reasoning with him chiefly wrought upon this principle to effect his downfall. — And upon this principle in ewry child of man he chiefly acts to bend them to a sensual gratification of all fleshly and earthly enjoyments. — This is, as I think, what is chiefly meant by natural depravtti/. — And " VII. I BELIEVE that Avhile man is seeking happiness a thousand preposterous ways, his mind is filled by the de- vil with an utter enmity against God, his will and law, and also with self-sufficiency and pride, and every evil and diabolical temper. And by all these means he is inevita- bly and condignly exposed to the wrath of God and eter- nal death and damnation. " VIII. I BELIEVE also, that notwithstanding the fall and all its baleful effects, and though man has utterly lost all power thereby to obey, or perform the condition of the old covenant, yet the Loud did not lose his right and power to command the same obedience : Nor could his justice and holiness, as such, in the least degree dispense with it. — He could in no wise, consistently Avith these at- tributes, commute, or relax the condition on man's part. — And vet 410 G R I M S H A W. " IX. I BELIEVE, nay I experience, and have done, ever since I was awakened, to my great grief, and self-ab- horrence, that though man has lost all power to obey, yet he still loves the scent of the old cask. — Quo semd est im- huta recens^ kc. He is still, silly caitif, proud elf, filthy devil, for do and livk. — And thus he became, and natu- rally ever will be, averse to all the kind and compassionate intentions and provisions of Divine Avisdom, grace and mercy for his redemption and salvation. " X. I BELIEVE further, that every actual sin, suppose ever so small a sinful thought, will expose the soul, yea, and the body too, from the last judgment forward to the eternal, intolerable wrath of God : And that the trans- gressor's whole life, though inwardly and outwardly, and every way, as pure and holy, as that of an arch-angel, will not, cannot prevent it. " XI. I BELIEVE further still, that God would be just, were He to send any infant immediately from the womb to hell : Seeing the nature is polluted, and the seeds of evil are in them : — Not only born but conceived, in sin. " XII. I BELIEVE, that the blessed Trinity, fore-seeing all this rebellious and wretched fall of man, before his creation, yea, before the foundation of the world, did, out of His infinite wisdom, goodness, compassion and power, and yet consistently wii)^ His inexorable and inllexible justice, devise an effectual way of rescuing him from wrath and hell, and restoring him to favour and glory; I call this the new covenant : — This, REDEivtrTioN. In this scheme harmonizes every attribute of the Deity; yea, justice itseli", that knows not to remit the least mite, is become so placable and propitious, as to forgive the confessing penitent all his sins, and to cleanse him from all unrighteousness, " XIII. I BELIEVE, that God the Father required, that, in the new covenant, the old covenant should be ful- filled, the breach repaired — His violated law made ho- nourable— the curse thereof removed. His justice satisfied —His wrath appeased, and His holiness revered. And this too (though no one in heaven or earth, save His only begotten, God co-equal Son, was competent of) by the very nature, strange to tell I tliat had transgressed. — And, this, glory be to God, was regular, lawful, right and just. *' XIV, I believe therefore, that God, the Son, en- gaged to assume our nature, and place Himself in our Jaw-place ; and became GoD-Man, or God manifest in the GRIMSHAW. 411 the flesh. — And this I plainly see was absolutely needful : Because, there was that to be done for us, in order to re- deem and save us ; which, as God, He could ; but as man, Hk could not: And which, as man, He could; but, as God, He could not, do. — For " XV. I UKUKVE, as God only. He could do ; as man only, he could suffer. — As GoD-Man, He could and did fulfil the Luw, so- as to deserve eternal glory : As Man- Goo, (if I may so speak) He could and did so suffer, as that His sufferings fully atoned and satisfied divine justice for sin, and effectually delivered us from eternal wrath and misery. — But, if, as man, we must say. He did both do, and suffer; be it so ; yet as being in union with God, the Divinity so deified and divinely impregnated all His obedience, both active and passive, as rendered it completely competent of the important ends above said. This is that righteoiisness of God ; so called, because God the Father must require it, and God the Son only could perform it, for our justification, redemption, and salvation. " XVI. I believe, that this very righteousness is suf- ficient to redeem all mankind ; but it only is, and will be, imputed to every penitent, believing soul, and that to all intents and purposes, as if He, as indeed He should have done, had Himself performed it. — Glory be to God for free Grace. — No reason can be assigned forthis; only, He would have mercy; hecavse He would have incrcy. " XVII. I BELIEVE, in this righteousness, every mem- ber of Christ stands, and will stand, complete, irre- proveable and acceptable in God's sight, both at death and judgment — " Jesus, thy Blood and Righteousness, " XVIII. I believe also, that Jesus came to re- store to us Adam's losing, the Holy Spirit. — With- out this, we are none of His — Without God, Christ, hope in the world — Dead and void of all interest in His nierits — To receive and enjoy this, is that new birth : So expedient, that without it we cannot enter into the khigdom of God — A state of grace here, and a state of glory above. — By it, we are sons of God and heirs of that inheritance, which Christ, by His righteousness, hath purchased for us. " XIX. I BELIEVE, through this blessed Spirjt, therefore, the soul is not only enlivened but enlightened to see and feel her guilty, helpless, and miserable estate, through 412 G R I M S II A W. through original, carnal, actual and self-godly sinning, — And *' XX. I BELIEVE, that though it is faith to believe the gospel-report ; for faith comes hy hearins; : Yet to be fully convinced in conscience, that we are such guilty, helpless, wretched sinners, and obnoxious to the Divine wrath, is eminently that faith, which is said to be the gift of God. By this faith we are cordially enabled to hear, embrace, and lay hold of the righteousness of Christ, to justification, and are conscious thereof. " XXI. I BELIEVE that the Holy Spirit is not only a vital, but an instructive and active principle in us also. He witnesseth to our hearts, that we are God^s chil- dren, and reports to our conscience that we are at peace with God, For though we may have peace with God ; yet conscience, I am persuaded, till informed by the Spi- rit, is a stranger to it. " XXII. I BELIEVE, it is by the Spirit we are ena- bled, not to eradicate^ as some affirm (for that is absurd) but to subjugate the old man : To suppress, not extirpate^ the exorbitancies of our fleshly appetites : To resist and o'/ercome the world and the devil; and to grow in grace, sp'adually, not repentiveh/, [i, e. suddenti/, or all at once^ unto the perfect and eternal day. — This is all I know, or ac- knowledge, to be Christian Perfection, or Sanctification. " XXIII. I BELIEVE, that all true believers, will be daily tempted by the flesh, as xvell as the world and the deril, even to their lives end ; and that they shall feel an inclination, more or less, to comply, yea, and do comply therewith. — So that the best believer, if He knows what He says, and saysUhe truth, is but a signer at BEST. And *' XXIV. I BELIEVE that their minds are incessantly subject to a thousand impertinent, unprofitable thoughts, even amidst their reading, meditations and prayers ; — that all their religious exercises are deficient ;— that all their graces, how eminent soever, are imperfect ; that Gonsees iniquity in all their holy things ; and, though it be grant- ed, that they love God with all their hearts, yet they must continually pray with the Psalmist, enter not into Judgment with thy servant, &c. But with all " XV. I BELIEVE, that Jesus is a full, as well as a free Saviour : jVie same yesterday, to day, and for ever. He alone is not only the believer's wisdom and righteous- ness, but his sanctification and redemption : And in Him is a fountain ever open for sin and uncleanness unto the last breath GRIMSHAW. 413 breath of liIs life. Here is my daily, necessary privilege, my relief and my comfort. " XXVI. I BKLiEVE, lastly, that God is faithful and unchangeable : That all His promises are Yea and Amen : That He will never, never, as the apostle's words are, leave me, will never, never, never forsake me. l)ut, that I, and, all that believe, love and fear Him, shall receive the end of our faith the salvation of our souls. '' Here is the sum and substance qf my Ckeed. — It is at least, what I presume to call, my fokm of sound words — In it, I can truly say, I have no respect to men or books, ancient or modern; but to the Holy Scriptures, reason and experience. — According to this Creed, hitherto I have, and hope, hereaftei', so far as I apprehend, to proceed in all my preaching; debasing man, and exalting my dear Lord in all His offices. If we materially difler, be it so — let brotherly love continue. — I am fixed, being resolved not to have my religion, like some dear men among us of late, to seek, after more than twenty years experience and pro- fession.— All that I know of you hitherto, is by your con- versation and books, which I cordially love and approve. " I think, we are both agreed to pull down man, and when we have the proud chit down, to keep him down. For this is the main. — And never let him recover so much as his knees, till with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, the dear Redeemer raise him. He ought to be con- vinced, that a good life will no more conduce, than a wicked life, to his justification.^That all that is not o/" faith, and consequently before faith, is sin. Nor will I allow, that it is any more by good works after grace re- ceived, than before, that the believer is saved; for however our Loud may graciously consider them at the last day — Klernal life is certainly the gift of God through our Lord Jesus Christ — Christ alone has purchased for us, what grace in heart and life makes us meet for — What have We to boast of 9 — or what have We that We have not received? — Surely, by grace We are saved. When I die, I shall then have my greatest grief and my greatest joy — My greatest grief, that I have done so little for Jesus ; and my greatest joy that Jesus has done so much for me. My last words shall be, '' Here goes — An unprofitable Servant r " Pray for me, and Dl pray for you being your, &:c. " W. G." 414. B 0 S T W I C K. DAVID BOSTWICK, A.M. JVIr. David Bostwick, if not a Scotchman born, was at least of Scotch extraction, and bred up in the Pres- byterian persuasion. The time of his birth appears to be about the year 1719. When or where he took upon him the office of a pastor, we cannot learn; but Mr. Smith, in his history of New York, says, that he was translated from Jamaica [a small village upon Long Island] to New York, by a synodical decree, in the year 1757. The place of wor- ship where he officiated, stands, or rather stood (for it has been much injured by the civil war in America), near the scite of Trinity Church in that city. This church was wholly demolished by the conflagration, occasioned by some incendiaries among the Americans, after the flight of their army in October 1170. The late Mr. Whitefield preached several times in Mr. Bostwick's uieeting-house, while he was at New York. About twelve or fourteen hundred souls composed the congregation under Mr. Bostwick's pastoral care. In this charge he continued from the year above-mentioned to the 12th of November in the year 1763 ; when he was called from the church militant on earth to the church triumphant in heaven. He departed this life in the forty-fourth year of his age, in the misdt of life and of usefulness. But the righteous are often taken away from the evil. The heats, distractions, and bitter- ness, which rose about or soon after his death, would have distressed his placid spirit, which was by no means calcu- lated to mingle in public confusions, nor, when excited, to appease them. He left a widow with ten children to the goodness of Providence; and his remains lie buried in the front isle of the meeting-house, where for near seven years he had faithfully preached. In the history of New York above-mentioned, which was written before Mr. Bostwick's decease, the author (in p. 193.) gives this testimony of his character. * Mr. Bostwick is of a mild, catholic disposition ; and, being a man of piety, prudence and zeal, confines himself entirely to the proper business of his function. In the art of preaching, he is one of the most distinguished clergymen in these parts. His discourses are methodical, sound, and pa- thetic ; *'^Jincu!^'^''' ' A>..^», ..ryiu,l fira^ m Uu ,n^ir/si..,. o,John 0.n. t^,. mihn,J,.W»tn,: B O S T W I C K. 415 tlietic ; in sentiment, and in point of diction, singularly ornamental. He delivers himself without notes, and yet with great ease and fluency of expression, and performs every part of divine worship with a striking solemnity.' The religious world has been blessed with but two pub- lications, composed by this excellent man. The one is a sermon, preached by him at Philadelphia, before a synodi- cal meeting, on the 25th of May 175S, and published at their request. The title of it is, Self disclaimed and Chuist exalted: And it has since been reprinted by Ma- thews in the Strand, London, in the year 177G. The English editor, in an advertisement prefixed, says, * That it was so cordially received by the audience (which is very seldoni the case with heartrsearching discourses like this) that, at their earnest desire, it was sent to the press ; and the late Mr. Gilbert Tennent gave it his warm recommen- dation.'' And very justly. It is a sermon for Minis- ters, and enters more deeply into the subtle workings and base motives of the human heart, than any sermon of the kind we have ever seen. It is written with great plain- ness, but not with a " slovenly" plainness : On the con- trary, it is a perspicuous, methodical, and affectionate dis- course, and just such as every sincere minister would wish to speak to his own soul. There are indeed no affected turns, no studied phraseology ; but there is, what is infi- nitely better to a spiritual mind, a deep acquaintance with the things of God, and an hearty zeal for the glory of Jesus Christ and the good of souls. It is not carefully or- namental, yet sufificientlj correct; not tricked off with the wisdom of the flesh, yet clear and convincing in the de- monstration of the Spirit. Every man, who ventures to speak for Goj), would do himself a favour to have this very excellent sermon in his closet ; as, we might be bold to say, he ought to hold his tongue, if he has not the principles of it engraven upon his heart. The other Tract is entitled, *' A fair and rational Vin- dication of the Right of Infants to the Ordinance of IJap- tism, being the substance of several discourses from Acts ii. 39."' This, though a posthumous piece, is an able perfor- mance ; and perhaj)s one of the ablest, in a small compass, on that side of the question. AVe are told by the American editor, ' That the author composed it for the pulpit, and delivered it in sundry sermons, but a few weeks before his decease; which being found to have a very happy effect, in the confirmation and establishment of some waveringmjnds among his own people, he was urged to transcribe his notes far 41G B O S T W I C E. for the press ; but soon after he had begun this work, he was (as to the particular time of it) unexpectedly called ta his superior station in God's temple above. Yet, by a kind providence, a few days before his last illness, a young minister who had a desire to improve himself by Mr. Bostwick's notes, which were written in a kind of short- hand of his own invention, applied to him ; and, at his request, Mr. Bo^twick spent several hours in teaching him to underst^Hrd them, and, by his means, the copy was recovered from oblivion."* His character yet lives in New York, though perhaps few men confined themselves more within their circle of duty, or felt more humility, or shewed more freedom from all ostentation. He not only preached the gospel, but lived over Avhat he preached, respected by good men of all denominations. His conversatioji, led by the Spirit of his meek and lowly Master, breathed nothing but peace and gentleness to all men. He was sorely grieved, when some of his flock became, not fervent Christians, but furious po- liticians. Mr. Bosfwick's heavenly temper and quiet de- portment did not perfectly please these religio-polltical pro- fessors; for he knew, that his Saviour"'s kingdom was not of this world, and that it was no part of a Christian minister's duty to entangle himself with it. He abhorred, as he ought, the too frequent mixture of divinity and politics, and much more the abominable turpitude of making the former subservient to the latter. Thus he lived, and thus he died, an example worthy of imitation, but unhappily not followed, even by those for whom his aflections and concern were more immediately engaged ! We are obliged for the further account of this great and good man, which we shall subjoin, to the Editor of his " Tract on Baptism." ' As a man, he was something above the middle stature, comely, and well-set, his aspect grave and renerahle; form- ed by nature with a clear understanding, quick apprehen- sion, prompt elocution, and solid judgment ; his imagina- tion strong and lively, and his memory very tenacious. Of all these, he gave the most convincing proofs, both in pub- lic and private life. He directed the course of his studies, in a close and intimate subserviency to the great business of his profession. The apostle's direction, Give thyself whnlltj to these things, might have been his motto. In divinity his great strength lay. He had an admirable discernment of truth and error in their causes, connections, and conse- quences ; and believed and taught the pure doctrines oT Christianity, B O S T W I C K. . 417 Christianity, as contained in the Holy Scriptures, and as iltclared in tlie public cont'essioiis of the reformed churclies, in their original and genuine meaning. He beheld his Bible with reveience, as the grand charter of lij'e eternal. One of the reformed cliurches distinguished it by this title, I:]cci' paradisus Tiostcr! ' Behold our paradise!' He knew it to be a revelation from God, and the most wonderful l>ook in the world. He saw its external and internal evi- dence, not only by nature's light, aided by human learning, but also by special illumination from above. He con- sidered it not only as a system of divine knowledge, but ns revealing a practical and experimental discipline; and felt its vital energy, and had its truth sealed on his heart, with that kind of evidence, which would doubtless have stood the fire upon the severest trial. ' He hatl those gifts which rendered him a very popular preacher. With a strong commanding voice, his pronun- ciation was clear, distinct, and deliberate ; his speech and gesturedecentand nattn-al, without any affectation; hislan- guage elegant and pure, but with studied plainness, never helow the dignity of the pulpit, nor above the capacity of the meanest of his auditory. The strength of his me- mory, and the flow of his elocution, enabled him to preacU without notes, but seldom or never extempore : He fur- nished the lamps of the sanctuary with beaten oil; and the matter and method of his sermons were well studied. ' In treating divine subjects, he manifested an habitual reverence for the Majesty of heaven, a deep sense of the worth of souls, an intimate knowledge of the human heart, and its various workings in its two-fold state of nature and grace. He dealt faithfully with his hearers, declaring to them the whole counsel of God, shewing them their danger and remedy. — He always spake from a deep sense of the truths he delivered, and declared those things which he had seen and which he had heard, and his hands had handled of the word of life ; and delivered nothing to his auditory but with a solemnity tliat discovered its importance. ' His mind had a poetic turn. His style was copious and florid. He sometimes soared, when his subject would ad- mit of it, with an elevated wing ; and his imagination ena- bled him to paint the scene, whatever it was, in very strotig and lively colours. Few men could describe the hi- deous deformity of sin, the misery of man's apostasy from Goi), the wonders of redeeming love, the glory and riches of divine grace, in stronger lines and more aflecting strains than he. VOL. IV. 2 E 'In 418 W H I T E F I E L D. ' In the €onduct of life, he was remarkably gentle towards all men, vastly prudent and cautious, and always behaved with the meekness of toisdom. — He preached not hhnselj, but Christ Jesus his Lord, In this view his eye was single, and he regarded no other object. He knew in whose place he stood, and feared no man. He dared to flash the terrors of the law in the face of the stoutest transgressor, with the same freedom as he displayed the amiable beauties and glo- ries of the gospel for the comfort and refreshment of the penitent beiiever. ' As he highly honoured his divine Master, he was highly favoured by him, of which take one instance: * In a former illness, from which it was thought he could not recover, which hajjpened some months before he died, he was greatly distressed by a deep concern lor his v»^idow and his great family, on the event of his death. But God was pleased, in a time of great extremity, to grant him a glorious and astonishing view of his power, wisdom, and goodness, and the riches of his grace, with a particular appropriation to himself and his. — Such as dispelled every fear, and at that time rendered him impatient (or averse) to live ; but at length, on his recovery, which commenced immediately on the removal of this distress, his mind settled into a divine calm: He seemed equally willing to live or die, as Goo pleased. In this temper he continued to his last moment, when placidly he resigned his soul and all his mortal interests, into the hands of his Saviour and his God ! Such intercourse sometimes passes between the Father of Spirits and the human spirit, and such honour have they that fear God !' GEORGE WHITEFIELD, A.B. i3CARCE any man since the apostolic age, has more fully met with at least the treatment of the apostles, men- tioned by St. Paul, than t!ie subject of the present memoir : For the exercise of their ministry was, indeed, by honour and dishonour, by evil report and good report ; as deceivers^ and yet true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold ive live; as chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing; as having 7iothing, and yet possessing all IhiJigs, 2 Cor. vi. 8, &c. They who can justly solve this paradoX;, W H I T F E I E L D. 419 ^mradox, may be able to understand at the same time the real character and conduct of the late Mr. Whitefieid. This pious and extraordinary minister was born at Gloucester, Dec. 16, 1714. His tat!ier, who was bred to the wine trade at Bristol, removed from thence to Gloucester, and lvej)t an inn. He had six sons and one daughter. Of the sons, George was the youngest, who was only two years old when his father died, and he was brought up witli great tenderness by his mother. Tlie world is indebted for a well-drawn life of this ex- cellent man to the Reverend Dr. Gillies of Scotland. We cannot enter into ail the particulars so minutely or, exactly as that candid and valuable Biographer; and yet we wish to give as much of so important and remarkable a life, as <"an consist with a plan of so ranch generality as that of our volumes. We shall be excused tlien if we extract or abridge those parts of that excellent performance, which comport the most with our design, or which may most edify and- inform our jnous readers. It appears, that j\Ir. Whitefieid was very early under se- rious impressions; but he acknowledged with con^,punction, what every body must feel whether they acknowledge it or not, that the bent of our carnal nature is turned directly from Gon, and inclined only to nothing but evil. AVhen he was between twelve and fifteen, lie had made some progress in classical learning; and, we are told, that even then his eloquence began to appear in some puerile compositions, written for the amusement of his school-fel- lows. But his rising genius was deprived of the usual means of improvement, through the decrease of his mo- ther's trade ; and he was obliged to assist her in carrying on the business of the inn. His turn of mind, however^ though depressed, could not be extinguished ; and in this very unfavourable situation, we are told, that he composed several sermons, and that the impressions of religion were very strong upon him. When he was about seventeen, he received the sacrament, and employed as much of his time as he could in prayer and reap Butler, Lrshop Sherh)ck, or fiishop .Seeker were in Scotland, 1 sliouKJ wcicoine Ihcni to my pulpit. In this I sliould imitate Mr. Samuel Rutherford, as firm a presbyteriau as any of us, who yet employed Eishop Usher. Tiiero is no law of Christ, no act of assembly prolwbiting me to give my 442 WHITlEFIELt). brought raeupon the carpet; but all has worked for good." While he was in Scotland he endeavoured to do all the service he could to the New Jersey college, and, in con- junction with some ministers who wished well to that in- stitution, advised the sending over a minister from Ame- rica to make application in person : Which was after- wards done in the year 1754, when Mr, Tennent and Mr. Davies applied to the General Assembly, and obtained an appointment r.iy pulpit to an Episcopal, Independent, or Anabaptist minister, if of soimd principles in liie fundamentals of religion, and of a sober life. Our churcli expressly eiyoins, Act XIII. April 1711, thai great tenderness is to be used to foreign protestants. I'he requiring stran- gers to subbcribe our Formula, before *hey preach with us, would Jay as effectual a bar against employing those of congregational prin- ciples, or presbyterjan non-subscribers, as those of the church of England. As to Mr. Whitelield, said another, there are few ministers whose character hath been so well attested by the most competent indues, both at home and abroad. One thing 1 cannot but observe: Those who have spoken most warmly against Mr. Whitetield in this debate, acknowledge thej' have made little or no inquiry into his character: Whereas those on the other .side have made a very careful inquiry; and that inquiry has turned out entirely to their satisfaction. With regard to his imprudencies, there is a great dilierence betwixt blunders owing to a bad heart, and those that are owing only to a misinformed judgment : Especially, when the mistakes that occa- sioned tiiom have misled several great and good men. Whether Mr. Whitefield's scheme of the Orphan-house be prudent or not, it is demonstrable it was honestly meant. The magistrates of Savannah published three years ago, in the Philadelphia Gazette, an affidavit that they had carefully examined Mr. Whitefield's receipts and dis- bursements, and found that what he had collected in behalf of the orphans had been honestly applied; and that, besides, he had given considerably to them of his own property. As to his maintaining that assurance is essential to faith; encouraging an unwarrantable regard to impressions; and being too hasty in pronouncing men car- nal or converted ; his sentiments in these particulars, have been altered for upwards of two years. And now he scarce preaclies a sermon, without guarding his hearers against relying on impicssions, and telling them that iaith, and a persuasion we are justilied, are very dilVereiil things, and that a holy life is the best evidence of a gracious .-late. These retractions are owing to a real chanire of sentiment. Letters from correspondents in New England shew, that this change is, at least, of two years dale, and that, ever since it happened, he has preached and acted with remarkable caution. Lastly, with re- spect to the prosecution of his appeal, Mr. Whitefield exerted himself to the utmost to gel his appeal heard, but could not prevail on the Lords Commissioners so much as once to meet on the afiair; they, no doubt, thinking of Mr. Garden^'s arbitrary proceedings with tlie contempt they deserved. But, say some, ' Mr. Whitefield being under a suspension not yet reversed, is now no minister.' I>ut for what ivas he suspended ? Wliy, for no other crime than omitting to use the form of prayer prescribed in the Cdinmuuion book, when ofl'iciat- jng in a presbyterian congregation. And shall a meeiing of presbyte- rian minist«rs pay any regard to a sentence which had such a foun- dation ? W H I T E F I E L D. 443 appointment of a general collection. He also began to think of making liis Orphan-liouse not only a receptacle for fatherless children, but also a place of literature'' and academical studies. Mean time, he went on in his usual way, and with his usual success, at London, Bristol, and Gloucester, during the winter; and in February ITIO, made an excursion to Exeter and Plymouth, where he found a strange alteration in the people since he had been first there, about five years before; they now received him with the greatest joy, and were im])ortunate to hear him; and many of them gave proofs of a solid conversion to God. In IMarch 1749, he returned to London from an excursion of about six hundred miles in the west, where he had the pleasure of seeing that his former visits had ])een blessed with abundant success. In May he went to Portsmouth, and preached every day for more than a week, to very large and attentive auditories. Many were brought under convictions, prejudices seemed to be universally re- moved, and people, that a few days before were speaking all manner of evil against him, were very desirous of his longer stay to preach the gospel among them. In the month of September he went into Northamptonshire and York- shire, and preached at Oundle, Abberfbrd, Leeds, and Havvorth, where good Mr. Grimshaw (who was so inde- fatigable in his endeavours to bring souls to Christ) was minister. In his churcli they had above a thousand com- municants, and in the church-yard about six thousand hearers. In April 1758 he was at London and Ports- mouth : And in May went to Ashby to wait on Lady Huntingdon, who had been ill. In his way thither he had a most comfortable interview with the Keverend Dr. Doddridge, Mr. Hervey, &c.* Thus tldlioji ? The issue of tlie debate was a rejecting of the moliun by a vote, '27 to 13; and a resolution whicli was so exprest as to be a decent burial of it ; l.iyin];^ no new restriction on ministers from invitinc; stran- gers, but leavin'^ tilings precisely as they were before. And tliry, who chose to give Mr. Whitefii-ld their pulpits, never after met with any mo- I('st;itioM. Upon the whole, tiie attacks made on I\fr. Whitefieid's cha- racter proved the occasion of informing the synod of the falsehood of many aspersions tiirown out against him, of the preat increase of his pru- dence and caution, and the remarkable change of his sentiments and be- haviour, so far as either were offensive. And thus, what was intended for his reproach turned out to his honour. * Mr. Hervey thus wrote of this interview to a friend: ' I have reen lately that most excellent minister of the ever-blessed Je»:us, Mr. WhiteGeld. I dined, supped, and spent the evening with him at Norlbamptoo, in company ^^ith Dr. Doddridge, and two pious, inge- nious 444 W H I T E F I E L D. Thus he employed himself incessantly, and visited, in this way, most parts of the kingdom, with a zeal and in- defatigabiiity that are almost incredible. In May 1751 he went over to Ireland, where he conti- nued his labours to the beginning of July following, when he passed from Belfast to Irvine, and from thence to Glasgow. He traversed part of Scotland, and came to Edinburgh ; and from thence on the 6th of August he set out for London, in order to embark a fourth time for Ame- rica. On the 27th of October he arrived in Georgia, and found affairs to his satisfaction. Here and in South Ca- rolina he spent the winter, and about the end of April 1752 he sailed for London. In England he resumed his work of preaching and travelling, and in short, visited in this way most part of the island. On tlfc 7th of March 1754 he sailed again for America with above twenty orphans, but put in at Lisbon, where he was highly disgusted with some instances of popish su- }R'rstition. He again traversed America, making (as he used to call it) his preaching campaigns. He continued upon the continent till the end of March J 753, and then embarked for England, where he arrived about the begin- ning of May. He then went his usual circuits till the approach of win- ter, where he returned to London, and preached in Long- acre chapel for the first time on December 23, 1755, but met with all sorts of opposition and difficulties. Tiiis induced him to propose the building a new chapel in Totteniiam- Court lioad, which he began on the 10th of IVIay 1756; and, after his country excursions, returned to open it on the seventh uioiis clergymen of the church of England, both of them known to the learned wurlil l)y their valuable writings. And surt-iy, I never spent a more deii^ihlfiil f\f'ning, or saw one that scf med to make nearer appmaches to the felicity of hea\eo. A gentleman of great worth and rank in the town, invited us to his house, and gave us an elegant treat; but how mean was his provision, how coarse his deli- cacies, compared wiih the fruit of my friend's lips; they dropped as the honey comb, and were a well of life. Surely, people do not know that amiable and exemplary man, or else, I cannot but think, instead of dejireciating, they would applaud and love him. For my part, I never beheld so fair a copy of our Lord, such a living im,T.re of the Saviour, such e.salted delight in Gon, such enlarged benevolence to man, such a steady faith in the divine promises, and such a fervent zeal for the divine glory; and all this without the least morosenes* of humour, or extravasjancies of behaviour; sweetened with the most engaging cheerfulness of temper, and regulated by all the sobriety of reason and wisdom of Scripture; in so much, that I cannot forbear applying the wise man's encomium of an illustrious woman, to this eminent nihiister of the everlasting (jO?pel ; Many sons have done vir- iuutsli/, but thou ix.elleH thcjn alW W H I T E F I E L D. US seventh of November following, preaching fiom 1 Cor. iii. 11. Here he continued to labour during the winter, com- monly preaching about fifteen times in the week, though in a very disordered state of health. In spring 1757, he travelled northward, and into Scot- land, where he met with a very kind reception from manv of the ministers, who were gathered in general assembly, and from the Lord Conunissioner Lord Catiicart himself. From Scotland he again went into Ireland, where he had a narrow escape from the popish rabble of Dublin, after preaching a loyal to church, on week-days, at the hours of prayer : Upon which the children ofdissenterswere taken away from the scliool, and he among the rest. Those dissenters, who were in aflluent circumstances, sent tlieir children to dis- tant parts for their further education: But this Avas not the case with his parents. This was a very discouraging cir- cumstance. Several ways and means were thought of by his friends ; but all proved fruitless. Some efforts were made by ministers, botli of other denominations and of his own, to get him upon one or otiier of the funds in Lon- don, and that he might be sent to one of their seminaries of learning. To this end accounts of his progress in lite- rature were sent up to town: But the answer returned by way of objection was, that he was too young ; and, should he continue, as it might be supposed lie would, to make such rapid advances in his studies, he would go through the common circle of learning before he could be capable of taking care of himself, or of being employed in any public service. If any credit can be given to the story of the woodman, concerning what the stranger said on the morn- ing of his birth, which seemed to suppose that some diflB- culties and obstructions woidd be thrown in the way of his becoming a scholar, they now began to appear. And yet, notwithstanding all this, such was his desire of learning, that he not only retained what knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages he had acquired, but he improved himself in both, by constantly reading all such books in those lan- guages, as he could obtain. In process of time he studied Logic, Rlietoric, Moral and Natural Philosophy. He likewise, suo Metric, learned the Hebrew language, with- out any living assistance, by the help of Buxtorf's Gram- mar and Lexicon. With only these, he surmounted the chief difficulties of that language: And cotild soon read the Hebrew Bible with great ease and pleasure. In this lan- guage he always took j)eculiar delight. He read books, in various branches of literature, in the Latin tongue, to ini- ])rove his mind with whatsoever was useful : And particu- larly systems of divinity. For some few years his time was daily divided : Part of it was employed in his father's busi- ness, and the other part of it in close studying. And thus he went on, till he had nearly attained to the nineteenth year of GILL. 451 of his a^e. It is now time to look back, ami take some notice of the religious turn of his mind, and of his inquiries after divine and spiritual things. He had slight convictions of sin, and occasional thoughts of a i'uture state, from his childhood. Sometimes he was terrified with the fear of death, hell, and eternity; and strangely elated with think- ing on the joys of heaven, tlie gloiies of another world, and the happiness of saints made perfect above. But these impressions were, for some time, both supeilicialand transi- tory. When he was about twelve years of age, the work- ings of his mind became more serious, settled and eftec- tual : And especially alter hearing a sermon of IMr. Wil- liam Wallis's, on Gen. iii. 9. And the Lord God called unto j4dam, and said unto hiin^ where art thou ? For a while it was, as it were, continually ringing in his ears, ' Man, where art thou .'' W^hat a wretched state and condition art thou in .'' How miserable wilt thou be, living and dying, in an unconverted state !' Hence he used to call Mr. Wallis, if any man, his spiritual father, who died soon after. And now he began clearly to see the depravity of his nature^ the exceeding sinfulness of sin; his need of Christ, and sal- vation by him; and of a l)etter righteousness than Ids own; even the righteousness of Christ, to be received bv faith : And iji a short time he was favoured with a comfortable hope and faith of interest in Him, from several exceeding great and precious promises, powerfully applied to his soul. It was, moreover, his happy lot, to have his mind early- irradiated with the light and knowledge of evangelic truths* by means of the ministry of several gospel-preachers in those parts of the country, whom at times he had the op- portunity of hearing : And these truths, coming to him with power, ftiiled not of freeing him from the bondage of the law, and of filling him with joy and peace in believ- ing ; yet though he early arrived to satisfaction in his mind about his eternal state, he did not make a public pro- fession of religion until he was almost nineteen years of age ; partly by reason of his youth for some time, and the solemnity of a profession ; and chiefly in the latter j)art of this period of his life, because he perceived the eye of the people was upon him to call him forth to the ministry, as soon as they conveniently could ; their then present pas- tor being greatly involved in worldly business, and one who mucli needed assistance. November 1, 171<3, he made a public profession of his faith in Christ, by declaring to the congregation with whicli be stood connected, the. dealings of God with his soul, to 45^ GIL L. to their satisfaction : And was the same day baptized (ac- cording to the mode and principles in which he had been educated) by their pastor, Mr. Thomas Wallis, who suc- ceeded his father Mr. William Wallis in that office. The Lord's day following, November 4th, he was re- ceived a member into the congregation, and partook with them of the Lord's Supper : I n the evening of that day, at a meeting of prayer in a private house, he read the fifty- third chapter of Isaiah, as suitable to the service of the day, and expounded some passages of it: And, at the close of the meeting, some of them addressed him to this pur- pose, ' Friend, we take this as a beginning of the exercise nf your ministerial gift, which we are persuaded the Lord has bestowed upon you.' And accordingly, the next Lord's day, in the evening, at the same place, he deli- vered a sermon on 1 Cor. ii. 2. For I determined not to know any thing among i/on, save Jesns Christ, and him cru- cified. For a few days he continued preaching in this pri- vate manner : But the congregation soon called him to exercise his ministerial gift in public, and sent him forth as a minister of the word. Quickly after this, at the motion of some of his friends at London, who had seen and conversed with him in the country, he removed to Higham-Ferrers, about six or seven computed miles from Kettering, His view, and what inclined him to attend to this motion, was to carry- on his studies under Mr. John Davis, with whom he was to board; a gentleman of learning, and who now taught in that place some branches of literature ; being lately come from Wales, and settled pastor of a new Baptist con- gregation lately formed at Higham. In this view, however, young Mr. Gill was disappointed; but the design of Mr. Gill's friends in London in this removal of him, was, chie[ly to be assisting in this new meeting, and to the young people in it, and to preach occasionally in the ad- jacent villages. Here he continued the year following : And in this time, and at that place, he contracted ac- quaintance with a young gentlewoman of great piety and good sense, whose name was Elizabeth Negus, a member of the new gathered society, and whom he married in 1718. The doctor was always of opinion, that his mar- riage with this excellent person was the principal thing for which God in his providence sent him to that place r And he ever considered his mari'iage to her, as one of the capital blessings of his life. For she proved affectionate^ ondon, he purchased most of his Hebrew and llabbinical books; and now went to woik with great eagerness, in reading tliem, and many others, which he af- terwards obtained of a Jemsh l{abbihe became acquaint- ed with. He plainly saw, that as the New Testament was written by men who had all of them been Jews, and who, notwithstanding their being inspired, must needs retain and use many of the idioms of their language, and allude to rites, ceremonies, and customs peculiar to that |)CO{)!e ; so the writings of the Jews, especially the mcue ancient ones, who lived nearest the times of the apostles, could not but be of use for the better understanding the phraseology of the New Testament, and the rites and customs to whicli it frequently alludes. With this view he set about read- ing their Targums, the Mishna, the Talnmds, thellabbot, their ancient commentaries, the book of Zohar, and what- ever else of this kind he could meet with : And in a course of between twenty and thirty years' acquaintance with those sort of writings, he collected together a large num- ber of observations. Having also gone through, in this lime, most part of the New Testament, in a way of ex- position, in the course of his ministry, he put all toge- ther, and in the year 171.5 proposed to publish an Expo- sition of the whole New Testament, in three volumes, folio. And the work meeting with encouragement very (}uickly, it was put to the press the same year, and was finished, the first volume in 17-i(5, t!ie second in 1717, and the third in 17i8. Towards the close of this work, in 1748, Mr. Gill re- ceiveil a diploma from the jVLarischal college and university at Aberdeen, creating him doctor in divinity, on account of liis knowledge of the Scriptures, of the Oriental languages, and of Jewish antiquities, as expressed in the diploma : Along with which, or tjuickly alter, he received two let- ters, one from Professor Osborn, Trincipal of the univer- sity, declaring to him, that on account of his learned de- fence of the true sense of the holy Scriptures against Deist •< and infidels, and the reputation his other works had pro- cured him in the learned world, as soon as it was moved in their 464 GILL. their university to confer the degree of doctor in divinity on him, it was readily agreed unto : Which motion was dec'ared to be without the knowledge of Mr. Gill ; and that he, (Dr. Osborn) as Primarius Professor, made a pre- sent to hun of what was due to him on sucli a promotion. The other letter was from Professor Pollock, professor of divinity in the same university, and afterwards principal of it : In which he signified to Mr. Gill, that their society of the JNIarischal College had with great cheerfulness created him doctor in divinity, on account of that spirit of learn- ing which appeared in his excellent Commentary on the New Testament ; and congratulated him upon it. In 1749 the Doctor was engaged in several controver- sies respecting baptism with various persons. A few cir- cumstantial things, or subordinate principles, have occa- sioned more disputes in the Christian church than all the essential or fundamental truths put together. In 1752 the. Doctor wrote an answer to a pamphlet called ' Serious Tlioughts upon the Perseverance of the Saints ;'' written, as it after appeared, by Mr. John Wesley: Who, in another pamphlet, shifted the controversy from Perseverance to Predestination. Mr. Wesley entitled his piece, ' Predesti- nation calmly considered : In which he mostly contents himself with haranguing on reprobation. To this the Doc- tor returned an answer the same year, and to the exceptions Mr. Wesley had made to part of his " Treatise on Per- severance," respecting some passages of Scripture brought into the controversy ; without attempting, however, to answer one argument advanced by the Doctor in vindica- tion of that doctrine. In 1753, a pamphlet being publish- ed upon the old dispute of baptism, the Doctor thought proper to notice it by publisliing another. In 1755 he re- published Dr. Crisp's works, in two volumes, Svo. with explanatory notes on such passages as had been excepted to in them, or needed any explanation; with some Memoirs of the Doctor's life. In 1756 he quitted his Wednesday Evening Lecture, as before related, and pvdjlished propo- sals for printing his " Exposition of the Prophets," both the large and smaller, in two volumes, folio : And which were published in the two following years, 1757,1758; with an introduction to them on Prophecy, and with a Dissertation at the close of them concerning the Apocry- phal writings. In the year 1757 a new meeting-house was erected in Carter lane, St. Olive's street, Southwark; which was opened October 9, in the same year, when two sermons were preached by him on Exod. xx. 24. and after- wards GILL. 465 wards printed, entitled, " Attendance in Places of Reli- gious Worship, where the Divine Name is lecorded, en- couraged." In 17til the ])octor published proposals for printing the remainder of his Exposition on the Old Tes- tament, beginning at Genesis, and ending with Solomon's Song: The first volume of which was published in the be- ginning of the year 17')3; the second, in the beginning of the year I7(»4; the third, in the beginning of the year 1 71)5; and tlie fourth and last, in the beginning of the year 17GG. In the ^-^ear 1705, the old controversy about baptism was^ again revived, which we shall pass over in silence. In 1707 the Doctor published " A ] dissertation on the Antiquities of tile Hebrew Language, Letters, Vowel-Points, and Ac- cents."' This has been a subject of much altercation among the learned, to v/hom we shall leave it; only observing, that if not one jot or tittle shall pass aivaj/ from the law It'll all be /ulfilled, how came it to pass, that ai.i. the jots and tit- tles (if the points are such) have been removed fi'om the MS. copies of the law read in the temple and synagogues; and, by what authority, if they ever were there? I3ut, ■no7i nostrum est taiitas compojiere lites. In the same year. Dr. Gill collated the various passages of the Old Testament, quoted in the Mishna, in the Tal- muds, both Jerusalem and Babylonian, and in the Ilab- botli ; and extracted the variations in them from the mo- dern printed text, which he sent to Dr. Kennicott at Ox- ford, then'collating the several Hebrew ma)ui3cripts of the Old Testament that might be met with in aiiv of the li- braries in Europe; and which Dr. Kennicott thus acknow- ledged his receipt of, in his state of that collation, pub- lished in the year 1767: ' I have been higlilv obliged by the reverend and learned Dr. Gill, who has extracted and sent me the variations from the modern 13ibles in the pas- sages quoted in the Talmuds, both of Jerusalem and lia- bylon, and also in the llabboth: Which variations in these ancient books of the Jews, atfect the Hebrew text of the Old Testament, as the variations in the ancient Christian fathers affect the Greek text of the New.' In the year 1769, he published a Bodv of Doctrinal Divinity, in two volumes, Ito. \vhich contain the substance of what he de- livered from the pulpit to the people under his care, for the space (»f upwards of five years: And he gave the public rca>Jon to expect a third volume, then preparing, which would contain a Body of Practical Divinity, and which he proposed to do when he began his Course of l^octrinal Divinity, as his Introduction to that shews. In the vear VOL." IV. 2 H 1770, 466 H I T C H I N. 1770, his Body of Practical Divinity was published : which, Avith the other two volumes, completes his whole Scheme of Divinity, which was the last work published by him. EDWARD HITCHIN, B.D. J. HIS excellent Minister and solid Divine was born about the year 1720, and had the advantage of pious pa- rents, who took every possible care to secure to liim the inestimable privilege of a religious education. Under the influence of their precepts and example, he was preserved from many of those sinful follies in youth, which are so hard to be thrown off in riper age; and under the impres- sions of divine grace, Avith which Gou was pleased to bless the endeavours of his parents, he also became truly concerned for his eternal salvation at an age when the ge- nerality of persons think of nothing but the pursuits of the world, and have their pulse beating high only for va- nities and the pleasures of time. It is no wonder, there- fore, that, with such seriousness of spirit, and with the blessing of a fine natural understanding, he should wish to engage in the highest service for God upon earth, and in consequence that he should cultivate every suitable means of preparing himself for it. By education and principle a dissenter, though by grace of a most catholic and unbigot- ed spirit, he entered upon the proper studies under the di- rection of tutors in a dissenting academy, and made such a proficiency in them, as would liave done honour to any se- minary of learning, and have fitted him for the most dis- tinguished employments in any church. His conscience led him to his particular profession with all its secular dis- advantages; and the conscience of such men, grounded be- yond all doubt upon the most perfect sincerity, is to be had in reverence even by those whose judgments in some cir- cumstantials may with equal sincerity differ from them. It gives, and must give every serious mind a secret and solid satisfaction, that such men as Hitchin, Hervey, White- field, Grimshaw, Gill, and others, however they might di- vide on some points and be distinguished by several pro- fessions, are perfectly united now, and are become insepa- rable constituent members in glorv of one s^encral assevibli/ of ihc Jirst-born^ lohose names are written in heaven. O thai this unity of spirit among those blessed souls who enjoy the com- H I T C H I N. 467 communion of the Spirit of Truth, were more evident even here; and that every occasion of discord or disagreement were removed from among the men who are to pass a whole eternity together in the presence of God, and who will then be ashamed (if shame can enter heaven) that their minds and hearts could ever entertain coldncs?, difference, or disgust towards each other upon earth ! It certainly is not true religion, or real spirituality, which is the cause of all this, but the remaining corru})tions, and the latent or unsubdued afiections of our fallen nature. JMr. Hitchin''s piety and ministerial abilities were soon noticed, after he appeared as a minister of the gospel. He settled early in London, as an assistant to ]\Ir. Richard Havvlin, to whom he was highly acceptable, as well as to the Hock over which in conjunction he presided. An able and gracious co-pastor is an excellent advantage to a young minister, both for correction and instruction in righ- teousness; and, it appears that Mr. Hitchin did not neglect this advantage from the friendship and talents of Mr. llawlin He grew in grace, and in the improvement of every useful gift, at the same time. Upon the death of jNIr. Mordecai Andrews, Mr. Hitchin was unanimously chosen by the congregation to be their pastor in his stead ;- and to this congregation he was a faithful and able dispenser of the gospel of salvation to the day of his death. He was no shallow divine. He drank deep into the spring, from whence all true grace and evangelical know- ledge ever tlowed to the church of God. It was his be- lief, and it appears to be a right one, that the people of God in all ages were favoured with every necessary means of receiving and understanding the things wliich related to their eternal peace; and that, though particular dispensa- tions, accommodated to particular times, might vary, yet the gospel and the grace of the gosj)el were ever the same. He did not ignorauily think, that Christ brought in a new or a different religion from that which patriarchs and pro- phets had enjoyed; but that what he said and what he did, were elucidations only or declarations upon fact of all that had been testified concerning him from almost the found- ation of the world. This led him to study tlie Old Testa- ment in a very particular manner; and he studied it with delight, because he saw that the whole of it related to Je- sus Christ and his great salvation, under types, enigmas, similitudes, j)arables, prophecies, ice. and that Jesus Christ Idmself had referred to these, in proof that he was the very 468 H I T C H I N. very person who should come, and that men v/ere to look for no other. He observed the force of the Hebrew language in describing these circiunstances, and perceived that this very tongue also was only to be truly understood by that grace which enables men to understand the things them- selves which it describes. 'Tis not merely the knowledge of Hebrew words or roots, therefore, which can capacitate a man to understand the ancient Scripture, but the Spirit of Grace, who first teaches the spiritiuil objects to the re- newed soul, and then enlightens it to see an immense fund of erudition concerning them in the natural objects, and also in that holy tongue, which is framed wonderfully up- on these last, in order to edify in the knowledge of the first. But a man witiiout spiritual faculties, (as Mr. Hitchin, following the apostle, could not but observe) is incapable of this; and though he may see Hebrew words, and the objects of nature which gave birth to them, with bis out- ward eyes, yet he hath no more true understanding of their heavenly import, while in this carnal state, than the beasts that perish. The things of God knoweth no man, bvt the Spirit of God, is a maxim of everlasting truth ; and con- sequently, if the Spirit of God inspired the whole Bible, and diflused those things through every page, no man can understand it really and strictly without his aid. A boy, indeed, may read it as an history; but, as a mystery of God, which it ever was and is, and which it was express- ly intended to be, from Genesis to Revelation, the great- est present scholars, as well as the ancient Scribes and Rab- bins, must necessarily be ignorant of it, till their imdcr- standings (like those of the aj)ostles themselves) are open- ed, that ihej/ may understand the Scriptures. This is humi- liating to the pride and presumption of man; and so are all the dispensations and dealings of God. It was a just and amiable character which the Rev, Mr. Towle gave concerning him in an oration at his funeral, and which therefore we transcribe with pleasure. ' While he was candid (says that valuable minister) and charitable to those whose religious principles and practices were diffe- rent from his own; looking on all witli pleasui'e in whom he saw the image of his Divine Master, however they dif- fered from him in lesser matters, and wishing tire noblest tvelfare of such as were not of his mind, even in those things which he apprehended essential to Christianity; he was open and resolute in his avowal of a regard for those sentiments, and that conduct, which he considered as en- joined by Him, to whose will the most implicit, unreserv- edj H I T C H I N. 469 €d, and cheerful obedience is at all times due. lie was, indeed, naturally of a diflident and rather timorous dispo- sition, yet he was not to be restrained from expressing a firm attachment to the adorable object of his worship, — the only foundation of his hope, — and the unerring rule of his obedience. — The last particular in his character I shall «iention, is: — He was indefatigably diligent in his endea- vours to compass the great ends of the Christian ministry, — to promote the glory of God, — and to advance the no- blest interest of mankind : To this, his own house, the houses of his friends, and especially the house of God, bore constant testimony. Perhaps, I should not express myself too strong, if I was to say, that in some degree, (to use a remarkable scriptural expression) the zeal of God's house ate him up, exhausted his spirits, impaired his iiealth, and at lengtii put an end to his life: Like a bright burn- ing taper, in giving light to others, he was himself con- sumed. ' On hearing all this concerning my worthy brother, perhaj)s, many present feel a desire rising vvithiu them to know in what manner he was removed from our world ; in compliance then with the wishes of such, I would just add, that tlie circumstances of his death, were some of them painful, and some of them pleasing. It was painful to see him, for days before he obtained his dismission, sup- ported in betl; at times insensible, and speechless : Jiut it was pleasing, during those intervals in which he had his senses, and was capable of speaking, to hear him express his cheerful resignation to the divin(! will — his firm trust in the mercy of Gou through Jesus Christ, the only i\Iedi- ator — the satisfaction with which he left the beloved com- panion of his life, and his dear children, in the hands of his heavenly Father — and his strong desire to leave tliis worh!, and go to a better; and to observe him, when, though sen- sible, he could not speak, signifyingto his inquiring relatives and friends, that he was in possession of tranquillity, sub- mission, and hope, with a manifest air of satisfaction and cheerfulness, on his wan emaciated countenance. ' His disposition was peculiarly amiable. iViendly, and benevolent: His countenance might, indeed, lead some to suspect that he was of an unsociable, austere, forbidding temper; but if any entertained such a suspicion, they were strangers to him. Those who knew him most, knew, that the law of kindness influenced his heart, dwelt on his lips, and governed his life; that he was averse to return evil, disposed to do good, and even delighted to overcome nil nilh 470 H I T C H I N. with good. — He bad not merely a sincere, but a bigh and strong veneration for the word of God. He indeed greatly valued that noble compendium of doctrines and du- ties, 'The Assembly"'s Catechism;'' but then he valued that, and every other human composure, no farther than, as he apprehended, they expressed the mind of God, revealed in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, — that blessed book, which should ever be regarded as the sole, because the only infallible standard of faith and practice.' A very pathetic discourse was also preached upon the occasion of his death, which occurred on the eleventh of January 1774, in the forty-eighth year of his age, by the Reverend Mr. Brewer, on the twenty-third of January following, from a text which Mr. Hitchin himself had long appointed for that purpose. It was from Psalm xlviii. 14. JFor this God is our God for ever and ever. He will be our guide even unto death. The application of this discourse in particular (though the whole is excellent) breathes so true a spirit of Catholicism and piety, that we cannot but believe it will be an acceptable transcript to such of our se- rious readers, as have not had an opportunity to peruse it. ' You see (says the lively and faithful preacher) what a comfortable passage of Scripture this vvas for your late dear pastor to live upon. I call him your dear pastor ; he was dear to his family, to his friends, and to you his flock: Rejoice, that these words, his own choice for a funeral sermon, were not taken up merely as expecting death, or when death had laid its cold hand on him ; no — they had been words for Ids encouragement in life, in health, and whenever death should knock at his door. — It is true, he drank not in all the consolations of the text in his sickness, or when on his dying bed ; yet the repeated sweet sentences which dropped irom his lips, proved that he had sujtpprts from theni — he had his sips, his glimpses, but now, O now ! he has his full draughts, and his full blaiie in glory. * What a cordial is this to me — to his brethren in the ministry — to you that loved In'm, occasionally now here — ■ to you his dear flock — above all, to his dear family ! I know I loved him, and therefore I feel deeply the loss of him; some humble hope have I, that I have also some in- terest in the blessing held forth in the text, which makes it a cordial under this trial ; as I hope, though parted now, to meet with hira in glory to part no more. He was loved by many of the Lord'^ ministers of different names ; be- cause he ever professed a love to all that he believed loved Jesys ; and therefore the Lord's ministers now weep for Jum. H I T C II I N. 471 iiim. But, blessed be God ! as he has done weeping, so will they, when arrived at that glory to which he is got ; until then, let all tiie dear ministers of God prove their sense of this affliction, by walking more together in Chris- tian alfection, and cherishing a warmer ambition to honour the God of our salvation by zeal for his gospel and glo- ry, and to be instruments in his liand to bring in sinners to Jesus, to recover backsliders, to comfort believers, get more comnumion with God, and conlbrmity to him, until brought to an everlasting vision of and fruition with him. * JMany frieiids both absent and present, not immediately connected witli this congregation, feel the loss for them- selves, for Christ's interest in general, and for this interest in particular. — Some are now, perhaps, dropping a tear at home — others in one and another of the Lord's temples — some now without, and many here within — well, you shew by your afTections, that it is to you an affliction ; and in- deed the trial may soon come to your own temples, your families, your selves. God hej[) you to see, whether God is your God ! Then, here is a cordial; for, though separated soon, you will meet in glory to part no more for ever — But the trial sharpens, as looking on you, his once dear congregation and church. — To you of the con- gregation he has been a Boanerges, a Barnabas : O ! has he preached, and you heard in vain ? Think, O soul ! how awful to have him to stand forth as a swift witness against you at Christ's judgment-seat ! Would to God his death may be your life ! By some providence, or ordinance, may you at last feel your malady as sinners, and see and claim the remedy in Jesus; that you may meet your dear minis- ter with joy, and not with grief! ' But you of the congregation who can claim God as your salvation, you have the best of comforts under your present cross : How shall I speak to you as a church ? 1 know that the tears trickling from your eyes, are occasion- ed by the deep sorrow In your hearts ; but if God be your God, then he can, and will make up in himself the loss of your dear pastor. — Come you, my brethren in office in this church, encourage yourselves in the Lord your Guu, — be not discouraged, because your pastor was taken away in the midst of his usefulness: So was your other dear pastor, iNIr. .Andrews; and is it not a high j)rlvilege, rather than to outlive our usefulness.'' — the Lord help you to bless Gui> for the use he made of him to others — and to your own souls. Now honour your character, and shew your love to your late pastor, by doing )-our besf. for the peace, unity, anil 4T2 H I T C H I N. and prosperity of the church, and may you live to see it provided with another pastor after God's own heart ! — Brethren and sisters of the church, rejoice ! though your pastors die, your God lives for ever ; bless him, if under tiie present trial that touches you so tenderly, you can say, ' this God is our God,"" then, until you die, and wb.en you die, your God will take care of you, and at last bring you to see your dear pastor in glory : Who has already met many of his members that went before him ; who sees liis dear parents there — his dear brother Andrews, whom he succeeded — and among other glorified saints, those dear men of God, an Owen, a Guyse, a Gill,-and a Whitefield, where, I am sure, hearts and hands are united. Would to GoD ! it may be a lesson to us yet in the churcli militant, who hope to meet such men of God in the church trium- phant ! But tiie sweetest meeting of all will be with that gracious God, who brought us tnere. ' Well, my dear friends, prove your love, by living in love, keep close together, look up to the Lord by prayer, to support you under and profit you by the trial, and in his own time, to provide for you ; and at last, as he has in part, completely fulfil this good word to you, that you may go and live with him you loved, never to part more. ' And now when going to address you his late dear fami- ly,— I feel a secret jdeasure that his late dear wife, and my dear sister, is absent ; or I fear what I have said, or might say, would be more than her tender passions could bear. However, I hope that the Lord, that has sent, will yet send his sweet cordials, and especially this in the text, then she will say, tliough tribulation, yet consolation also abounds. — I am sure, personally I cannot neglect any thing to testi- fy my love to her; I fervently pray for her and hers; and I am confident, you, as a church, will do the same, as the one best proof that at heart you loved your late dear pastor. JBut how shall I, how can I address you, his late dear ciiil- dren ! J know, and you know still more, how much he loved you, and I know you loved him. I feel the more for you, from an apprehension what my dear family will feel, when it is with me, as now with your dear lather. Blessed be God ! some of you have avouched, and publicly too, tlie God of your father to be your God. O how did he joy in it.'' How ought you now to joy in it, to find such a support under your loss! — But are any of you stran- gers to the Lord.'* God forbid you should remain so! Should this be the case, O how awful to think, that a fa- ther who loved you — whom you loved, and for whom you now r H I T C H I N. 4rS now weep, will stand forth as a swift witness against vou and say Amen to the awful sentence, Dtpart ye cursril, — but on the contrary, O that you may lay hold of tlie God of your father and mother, for your God ; that, at the jTreal day, you, with them, may receive the joyful her\-:^dici\or\, Coine ije. blessed. Finally, as a lover of your dear parent now Ining, and of hiui who is dead, let me b«^seech you to mai'italn love and duty to your dear mo- ther; live in love with one another; and may God bless you all teniporr5Uy, spiritually, and eternallv ! * In a wcrd, may this be a teaching season to back- sliders ; particularly to you (if any such) under the late care of my dear brother : O that if the word has not, may the rod reclaim you! Ma)^ the Lord say, relurn ye backslid- ing children^ I will he(d your haclcslidings, and may vou sav, wc rehirii laifn thee, for thou art the Lord our God! May the Lord make it also a ([uickening providence to us all ! to be ready at the Lord's call — to be up and doing while it is day, as the night cometii when no man can work. I wish in God, that my soul, and the souls of all my dear brethren in the ministry, may be quickened by it, so as to spend and be spent for Christ and souls ; to go on, valiantly fighting the good fight, keeping the faith, till our course is finished, and we receive the crown. Particularly, may it be a humbling, teaching, quickening lesson to you his late dear charge ; and may you learn from it to live less on crea- tures, and more on Jesus, who is the savic yesterday, to-day^ and for ever. Come then ; a little longer, and he that shall come, will come, and will not tarry. — Soon, I trust, we shall have to *av, as that good man Mr. Baxter did, when in agonizing pain on his death bed; on a friend's ask- ing him how he did, he replied ' almost well C and soon he found it so, on getting to his everlasting rest. So, my dear hearers, a few more disappointments, a few more bercav- ings, a few more trials temporal and spiritual, and then, if this God be our God, we shall find lie will be so for ever and ever — he will sweetly prove it, by being our guide uuto — over — and beyond death — and what then ? O then, no wanderings from God, no withdrawments of his blessed presence, no weariness in our Master's service, no coolness of love between brethren, no languor in our devotions : O then, faith will be swallowed up in vision, hope in fruition, grace in glory ; — then we shall be all we can wish or want to be, lor place, for company, for enjoyment, for employ- ment— and that, uot for a dav, a month, ayear, but for eter- nity » 474. T O P L A D Y. nitj ! When we shall shout praises indeed to Father, Son, and Spirit, the Gou of our salvation.' AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY, A.B. W E cannot give a more explicit account of this eminent Divine, than what hath been already published under the title of a ' Memoir of his Life and Death ;' and therefore we shall freely transcribe as much of it as is consistent with the plan of our volumes. * The Memoirs of extraordinary men have always been acceptable to the world ; and much instruction has been gathered from their example. The mind often feels a force from facts, when it cannot be reached by theories ; and receives that kind of satisfaction from the proof or demon- stration of a truth, which no mere principles, however just and correct, can possibly give it. To the Christian world, for the same reason, the examples of the htirs of salvation have been still more peculiarly valuable. They find doc- trines of the highest and most lasting importance confirmed and substantiated by testimonies and evidences, which are not more serious and reviving than full and undeniable. Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints ; and precious likewise in the sight of all his people. They have ocular demonstration, that grace can and does rise superior to nature; that the weak andfeeble in themselves are strorig- in the Lord and in the power of his might ; and that they are not only promised to be, but are, Conquerors and more than Conquerors through Him that loved them. These facts, therefore, of Gon's presence with his people, in the most trying of all human circumstances, cannot but be estimable in the eyes of those persons who look beyond the grave for their portion, and whose hopes can only be filled with im- mortality. They are enabled to take courage from the Christian heroes gone before them, and, seeing the faithful- ness of God to his promises in others, are emboldened for themselves to look forward with holy joy upon that peri- od, when mortalil}/ shall he sicalloioed up of life, and when their place upon earth shall know them no more. Conse- iquently, they may triumph in the glorious evidence of a better T O P L A D Y. 475 tietter inheritance, and long ioi that perfect consummation of bliss, which they are hereafier to share with ike spirits of just men made /-rr/i^rf, ami witii the general assembly of the Jirst burn,) which are wriltni in heaven. ' For this purpose of comtort and edification, the fol- lowing account ol tbe late Vioveiond Mr. Topladv is com- pilf-d. If the reader iVoin Jicnce receive any good hope throu<;h grace, to p.^ss ihrovigh tlie valley ol the shadow of death and to ftur no evd, as he passed, the end will be an- swered for which ihis memoir is penned, and for which alone it ought to i)e desired. 'L'ht^ doctrines, preaciicd by this able Divine, were brought into his own experience by the grace of his Redeemer, and were his jov and triumph in the article of diuth : And if tiic same effect is wrought upon theheartsandco'isciences of of fiei-(;iirist!ans, through his example, it would he tnt highest accomplishjuent of his wishes, as it wotdd iie a present evitlence to themselves of their hereafter rejoicing with him, where he is rejoic- ing, in the heaven of heavens, to alt eternity. ""T'ls this de- monstration of experience, or the proof of the Christian doctrine upon fact, that comforts and lilts up God's peo- ple in their last hours ; for this (us a very gracious man observed) ' goes much farther than th;- judgment, and passes the strength of mere natural under>tanding; and hence we feel, we taste, we enjoy ; yea, the very voice of Christ is heard in the soul, by which we know that we are his, and tiiat he is our's."" 'Tis the shield of faith alone which repels the terror of death, and quenches the fiery darts of the devil. * His father was Richard Toplady, Esq, a major in the army, and his mother Catharine Bate, sister to the late Re- verend Julius Rate, and to the Reverend I\lr. Bate, rector of St. Paufs, Deptford, by whom they were married, at the said church, on December 31st, 1737. They had issue first a son, Francis, who died in his infancy, and afterwards Augustus JMontague Toplady, the subject of our memoir, who was born at Farnham, in Surry, on Tuesday, Novem- ber the4squires; in respect to whom, he bore the Christian name of the one, and the surname of the other. His father died at the siege of Carthagena, soon after his birth. He received the ru- diments of his education at Westminster school ; but, it he- coming necessary for his mother to make a journey to Ire- land to pursue some claims to an estate in that kingdom, he accompanied her thither, and was entered at Trinity College iv 47G T O P L A D Y. in Dublin, at which seminary he took his degree of Batche- lor of Arts. Being awakened to the knowledge of Gow and of his own heart, he prosecuted his studies for the mi- nistry of the gospel, with the most indefatigable ardour. He thought, and thought justly, that men in the most sa- cred and important of all professions should be qualified in every respect for their function : and that sciolists in the clerical office were, generally speaking, more inexcusable and more dangerous, than empirics and pretenders in the other businesses of life. As he abhorred the Popish tenet, that * ignorance is the mother of devotion ;"" so his wish, as v^Fell as his duty, was to be thoroughly furnished, and to avoid the presumption of teaching the ignorant and those that are out of the way, without having the knowledge, as well as the grace, indispensably requisite for. that purpose. ' He could not but believe, with some other great and good men, that a man must be very much unqualified to ex- plain the Scriptures to others, without being acquainted himself with the languages in which they were written, and with those other invaluable books upon religious subjects, which have been handed down, in the learned tongues, through a long succession of ages. Of course, there- fore, he was diligent in all human attainments : And the church will undoubtedly witness the advantages she has received, from this happy conjunction of spiritual and na- tural endowments. Thus prepared, by grace in his soul and knowledge in his understanding, which was naturally clear and strong, he received orders on Trinity Sunday, the 6th of June 17(i2 ; and, after some time, was inducted first into the livingof Elagdonin Somersetshire, and afterwards into that of Broad Kembury in Devonshire. In both these retirements he pursued hislabours with unremitting assidui- ty, and composed most of those writings which will ren- der service to the church, and do honour to his memory, while truth and learning shall be esteemed valuable among men. He had for some years occasionally visited and spent some time in I^ondon ; but, in the year 1775, finding ids constitution much impaired by the moist atmosphere of Devonshire, with which it never agreed, he removed to London entirely, after some unsuccessful attempts to ex- change his living for another, of equivalent value, in some of the middle counties. Here, by the solicitation of his numerous friends, and from a desire to be useful wherever ihe Divine Providence might lead him, he engaged the chapel belonging to the French Reformed, near Leicester Fields; where lie preached twice in the week, while his healtU T O P L A D Y. 477 health permitted, and afterwards occasionally, as much as, or rather more than, he was well able to do. In this mi- nistration, it pleased God to remove him, by a slow con- sumption, from the church militant on earth, to the church triumpliant in heaven, on Tuesday the 11th of August 1118. His body was buried, agreeable to his own desire, communicated to some iViends, in Tottenham- Court-Chapel on the Monday following ; wheie, though his wishes, like those of the famous St. Basil, were against all parade and observation upon such an occasion, it was attended by a numerous concourse of people, many of whom seemed deeply sensible of the loss of so able a j)illar in the church of Gon. * It would be unnecessary in this place to say any thingof his writings. They speak for themselves, and shew the eminent abilities and learning, which through grace were given him. A catalogue of his publications is subjoined; and there are some other pieces, which, after the signing of his last will and testamoit, he gave leave to his executor to dispose of, as lie might tliink proper, and whicli probably may hereafter appear. It is right, however, to inform the reader, that his intense application to study, Avhich he fre- quently pursued through the night to three and four o'clock in the morning, seems to have been the means of inducing his disorder, and of accelerating his end. From this se- vere pursuit, so long as his body was able to bear it, he could not be dissuaded, lie thought himself called upon to assert and maintain the truths of the Gospel; and he was resolved to relinquish this duty only with his breath. To a friend, %vho had expressed sojue concern lor his healtli, upon account of his close applications, some time belbre his disorder was confirmed, he wrote the following words : *' Gou give us to sink deeper aiul deeper into his love, and to rise higher and higher into the image of his holi- ness ! And thoroughly persuaded I am, that, the more we are enabled to love and resemble Him, the more active we shall be to promote his glory, and to extend his cause, with our lips, our pens, our lives, our all. Be this our business, and our bliss, on earth. In heaven, we shall have nothing to do, but to see Him as He is, to participate his glory, and to sing his praise, in delightful, in never-ending concert with angels, with saints who are got home belbre us, and with those of the elect, whom we knew and loved below. I would not give sixpence for a friendship, which time and death are able to quench. Our friendship is not of that evanid species. I can, therefore, subscribe myself, " Ever and for ever vour's in Christ." ' Here 478 T 0 P L A D Y. ' Here we see the great spring and motive of his labours;^ and the object which directed his activity in his Master s service. He had the desired satisfaction to see his public ministrations, both by word and writing, extensively blest: And there are many left behind him, who v.ill doubtless be his joy and crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Je- sus. Like Luther, he was hostis acerrimus, a verv cutting adversary to error; and his love to truth was as strong and ardent, as his abilities were quick and powerful to defend it, when attacked or opposed. Witness bis own expres- sions in a letter to the friend above-mentioned, upon the defection of some persons from the cause of truth: " For my own part, (says he) I wish to live and die with the sword of the Spirit in my hand; and, as Young expresses it, * Never to put off my armour till I put on my shroud.' As far as my situation will admit, I hope always to act up to this maxim." The character given by an ancient wri- ter, of one of the fathers,*" who combated the Arian heresy on its appearance, that he was one of the firmest and the first of the whole band who contended for the truth, might, without exaggeration, be applied to Mr. Toplady, in his opposition to the reigning heterodoxy of Arminius. Nor did he fail of his wish: He had (as it were) taken measure for his shroud before he laid down his pen. His style was nervous and masculine; his language easy and flowing, without being florid or diffuse ; and his arguments dose, clear, and pertinent. In a word, he was to the opposers of truth a Boanerges, but to its friends a Barnabas. * He had no preferment in the church besides the vicarage of Broad Hembury, which, as his mind could never brook the idea of living ill with his parish upon the account of tythes, did not amount, communibus annis, to eighty pounds a-year. For this living he exchanged the other above- mentioned, about eight or ten miles distant, that had been procured for him by his friends in a mode which (though usual enough) his conscience could not approve; and theie- fore, when he became acquainted with the manner oT their diligence, which was not for some time afterwards, he could not rest satisfied till he had parted with it. He did not seek preferments, because he could not solicit them in the com- mon way. His own account of his engaging in the pasto- ral office, in the introduction to that masterly work, entitled *' Historic Proof of the doctrinal Calvinism of the Church of England," is too remarkable to be omitted here : " I bless * Theodoret. de Jacob. Antioch. apnd Cave ia Hist. Lib. T O P L A D Y. 47d bless God (says he) for enabling me to esteem the re- proach of Christ greater treasure than all tlie applause of men, and all the preferments of the church. When I re- ceived oi'ders, I obtained viercy to be faithful ; and, from that moment, gave up what is called the world, so far as 1 conceived it to interfere with faith and a good conscience. The opposition which I have met with in the course of my ten years' ministry, lias been nothing, compared with what I expected would ensue on an open steady attach- ment to the truths of God." He could sav with Arch- bishop Warham, Satis viatici ad ca-luvi : He had enough to carry him to heaven, and but very little more. How rarely, in these times, do we find either principle or con- duct so truly exemplary ! ' But the view of this good man's last sickness and death is principally intended here. He met the King of Terrors, disarmed of his terrors through the grace of his Saviour, and found him an angel, a messenger of peace. He had long been visibly declining in his health; but could only be prevailed upon to restrain from preaching, for some time before his decease, by the express injunction of his physician, and the particular intreaties of his friends. Indeed, his feebleness of body, for some months before his end, was such, that, when he attempted to speak in public, he could scarce be heard for the few minutes he was able to stand, and seemed almost like a man lifted up to preach from the grave. ' As his outward man wasted and decayed, his inward man was refreshed and renewed day by day. Towards the close of his mortal life, the consolations of God in hint were neither small nor few. He looked, not only with composure, but delight, on tlie grave, and groaned ear- nestly for his heavenly habitation. He had constantly, to use 13r. Young's expression, ' One eye on death, and one full fix'd on Heaven.' In this respect, he most happily exemplified his own obser- vation, communicated upon the death of a friend. " I have long observed, (says he) that such of Gou's people as are least on the mount while they travel to heaven, are highest on it, and replenished with the richest discoveries ot" divine love, in the closing scene of life. AViien they come in ac- tual view of that river, which parts the churcli below from the church above, the celestial city rises full in sight ; the sense of interest in the covenant of grace becomes clearer and brighter; the book of life is opened to the eye of as- surance ; the Holy Spirit more feelingly a{)plies the blood of 480 T O P L A D Y. of sprinkling, and warms the soul with that robe of righ- teousness which Jesus wrought. The once feeble believer is made to be as David. The once trembling hand is en- abled to lay fast hold on the cross of Christ. The sun goes down without a cloud. — Weighty and beautiful are those lines of Dr. Watts : " Just such is the Christian — His race he begins, Like the sun in a mist, when he mourns for his sins, And melts into tears. Then he breaks out, and shines. And travels his heavenly way. But, as he draws nearer to finish his race, Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace ; And gives a sure hope, at the end of his days, Of rising in brighter array." * To several of his friends, who visited him in the last stage of his decline, he used many striking expressions of the comforts vouchsafed him, and of the sweet earnests of glory which he felt in his soul. Some of these friends committed to paper several of his most remarkable words, for their own memory and for the satisfaction of others. In conversation with a gentleman of the faculty, not long before his death, he frequently disclaimed with abhorrence the least dependence on his own righteousness, as any cause of his justification before God, and said, that he rejoiced only in the free, complete, and everlasting salvation of Goit's elect by Jesus Christ, through the sanctification of the Holy Spirit. We cannot satisfy the reader more than by giving this friend's own relation of his intercourse and conversation. * A remarkable jealousy was apparent in his whole conduct, for fear of receiving any part of that honour, which is due to Christ alone. He desired to be no- thing, and that Jesus might be all, and in all. — His feelings were so very tender upon this subject, that I once very un- designedly put him almost in an agony, by remarking the great loss which the church of Christ vrould sustain by his death, at this particular juncture. — The utmost distress was immediately visible in his countenance, and he ex- claimed to this purpose: " What ! by ray death.'' No! By my death .'^ No. — Jesus Christ is able, and will, by proper instruments, to defend his own truths. — And with regard to what little I have been enabled to do in this way, not to me, not to me, but to his name, and to that only, be the glory."' ' Conversing upon the subject of election, he said, " That God's everlasting love to his chosen people ; his eternal, particular; T O P L A D Y. 481 particular, most free, and immutable choice of them in Christ Jesus; was without the least respect to aiiv work or works of righteousness wrought, or to be wrought, or that ever sliouhl be wrought, in them or by them : For God's election does not depend upon our sanctlfication, but our sanctification depends upon Gou's election and appointment of us to everlasting life." At another time, he was so affected with a sense of God''s everlasting lovo to his soul, that he could not refrain i'rom burbtinense for many succeeding months. Dr. Manton's ser- mons on the xviith of St. John, were the means through which my Arminian prejudices received their primary shock: A blessing, for which an eternity of praise will be a poor mite of acknowledgment to that Goo whose Spi- rit turned me from darkness to light. But I was a con- siderable time (and not till after much prayer, and much leading on each side of the argument) ere my judgment was absolutely fixed. I shall, when in heaven, remember the year 17jS with gratitude and joy: As I, doubtless, shall the year 17.5.5, in which I was first awakened to tl^el my need of Christ." All his conversations, as he ap- proached nearer and nearer to his decease, seemed more and more happy and heavenly. He frecjuently called him- self the happiest man in the world. " O! (says he) how this soul of mine longs to be gone f I^ike a bird imprison- ed 484 T O P L A D Y. ed in a cage, it longs to take its flight. O that I had wings like a dove, then would I flee away to the realms of bllss^ and be at rest for ever ! O that some guardian angel might be commissioned ; for I long to be absent from this bo- dy, and to be with my Lord for ever."' Being asked bj a friend if he always enjoyed such manifestations, he an- swered, " I cannot say there are no intermissions; for, if there were not, my consolations would be more and greater than I could possibly bear; but, when they abate, they leave such an abiding sense of Gou's goodness, and of the certainty of my being fixed upon the eternal rock Christ Jesus, tbat my soul is still filled with peace and ' At another time, and indeed for many days together, he cried out, " O what a day of sunshine has this been to me! I have not words to express it. It is unutterable. O, my friends, how good is God I Almost without in- terruption, his presence has been with me." And then, repeating several passages of Scripture, he added, " What a great thing it is to rejoice in death!" Speaking of Christ, he said, " His love is unutterable !" He was happy in declaring, that the viiith chapter of the Epistle to the Ro- mans, from the thirty-third to the end of the six following verses, Were the joy and comfort of his soul. Upon that portion of Scripture he often descanted with great delight, and would be frequently ejaculating, " Lord Jesus ! why tarriest thou so long?" He sometimes said, " I find as the bottles of heaven empty: they are filled again;" meaning, ])robably, the continual comforts^of grace which he abun- dantly enjoyed. When he drew near his end, he said, waking from a slumber, " O what delights ! Who can fa- thom the joys of the third heaven.'*" And, a little before his departure, he was blessing and praising Gon for conti- nuing to him his understanding in clearness; "but (added he in a rapture) for what is most of all, his abiding pre- sence, and the shining of Ids love upon my soul. The sky (says he) is clear; there is no cloud: Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!" Within the hour of his death, he called liis friends and his servant, and asked them, " If they could give him up.''" LTpon their answering in the affirmative, yince it pleased the Lord to be so gracious to him, he repli- ed, " O what a blessing it is you are made willing to give me up into the hands of my dear Redeemer, and to part with me: It will not be long before Goo takes me; for no mortal man can live, (bursting, while he said it, into tears of joy) after the glories which God has manifested to my soul," T O P L A D Y. 485 soul." Soon after this he closed his eyes, and found (as Milton finely expresses it) -A death like sleep, A gentle wafting to immortal life,"" « Thus departed from tliis present evil world the Rev. Mr. Toplady, and, now delivered from .sin and sorrow, is doubtless employed in thanksgiving, where the wicked cease from troubling, and where tlie weary are at rest.* May those who read this account of him, be also prej)ar- ed for the Lord's appearing, that ihey, together with liim and myriads of blessed spirits gone before him mav inherit the promises ! As a controversial writer, he could not fail of making many enemies, whose errors he Imd freely attacked, and who may therefore be disposed to consider hiin not in the most candid view. But the time is at hand, when both they who revile, and they who are reviled, 7nj/A7 all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ: Let no man, therefore, Judge before the time, until the Lord come, who will make ma- nifest the counsels of the heart. Real Christians, respecting their spiritual life, have but one object to view, which is Jehovah their Redeemer ; and but one rule to follow, which is his ever-blessed word. And with respect to each other, Luther's favourite saying may be received for a max- im, ' That Charitjj beareth all things, and yiekleth all things; but Faith nothing.' In Heaven, all the faithful have but one heart and soul, whatever differences or deno- minations they may have borne below. In the mean time, happy are they, who can so bear and forbear, as not to give up the truth, which is to be sacrificed to no man ; and yet can so assert it, wiien called upon by Divine Providence, as neitiier to court nor to fear the faces of any. ' The following soliloquy, written some years ago by Mr. Toplady upon the death of a valued friend, has been thought * It is not improper to note here, that a very false and shocking re- port was circulated not ioii2 after his death, chiefly in Yorkshire, that Mr. Toplady had departed, like the wretclied Spira, despairing and blaspheming, and that lliis Memoir of his Life was a mere romance, fabricated by his friends. To detail and circulate lies upon mailers of this kind would be dreadfully impious in Mr. Toplady's friends, and ought to have been fully proved by those who pretended to detect them. Upon this account, therefore, that tridy piaus and excellent Gentleman, Sir Richard Hill, Bart, addressed a letter, dated Hawksione, Nov. '29, ITTQ, to Mr. John Wesbey, who was said to bo the auih.'r of this scanda- lous detraction, desiring him to exculpate himself, or his silence would be considered as a tacit ackuuwled^nieut of his guilt, — \\'e are sgjry to add, — ao answer was given, 486 T O P L A D Y. thought so apposite to himself in his own dying hour, that it is presented without any farther apology. It will pro- bably be perceived by most readers, that the Author had in view the memorable verses of the dying Emperor Adrian : But the dark desponding thought of the Heathen, and the illustrious hope of the Christian, afford a comparison mosJ gloriously advantageous on the side of the gospel.* « The dying BELIEVER to his SOUL. *' Deathless principle, arise : Soar, thou native of the skies ; Pearl of price, by Jesus bought, To his glorious likeness wrought, Go, to shine before his throne; Deck his mediatorial crown : Go, his triumphs to adorn ; Made for Gon, to God return, " Lo, He beckons from on high I }*Varless to his presence fly: Thine the merit of his blood ; Thine the righteousness of God. " Angels, joyful to attend, HovVing, round thy pillow bend ; Wait to catch the signal giv'n, And escort thee quick to Heav'n. " Is thy earthly house distrest .'* Willing to retain her guest ? 'Tis not thou, but she, must die ? Ely, celestial tenant, fly. Burst thy shackles, drop thy clay. Sweetly breathe thyself away : * Adrian to his Soul on his Death-bed : Ammida vngula, b/andulu, Jlospes, comesgiie corporis, '2,u(t nunc abibis in loca ] allidida, rigida, nndula, ?yere to speak all I know of him, and all 1 should be justified in speaking from a variety of papers before me, it might ap^ pear to some of my readers like exaggerated encomium. But I have no occasion (could I be so faithless) to exagge- rate here : The naked truth, and even half the truth, re- specting this excellent man, would seem extraordinary, not only to the world at large, but to many professors of religion, who had not entered so deeply as himself into the divine life, or been as mortified as he was to all but Jesus Clirist and the things of God. He began his ministry as curate to the late memorable Mr. Hervey at Weston-Favel, continued with him to his death, and was promised by the patron to succeed him in one of his livings, but which, to say no more, was not fulfilled. He continued, however, at Weston-Favel till November 1760, from whence he went to the curacy of Weldon, where he continued but ten months; the gospel being too offensive there. His next ministrations were at Kettering, which he began on the 16th of August 1761 ; and here he continued till the 28th of June 1770. In his private and public life, during all this period, he met with many sorrows and aflilictions. He had, indeed, without Jight- ings, and within fears. The malice and craft of some very base and wicked people, whom I pray God to pardon as I knovf- Mr. Maddock did, contrived to remove this faith- ful man at this time from his duty here. I will transcribe two or three passages from his Diary upon this occasion, only premising, that he was now in the fifty-eighth year of his age, and had been married thirty-five years, and was bowed down with tiie weight of manifold sorrows and in- firmities. " June 20, 1770. My troubles increase. This day I heard, that our late servant, to justify her leaving her place, had slandered me most vilely, and that it began to spread about the town."" — " June 24. Nothing but trou- ble have I had every day. My enemies, wlio are also ene- mies to the gospel, have long waited for an opportunity. They seem greedily to embrace this with a devilish malice. Satan roars with all his i^ight; O Lord, support thy weak servant^ HADDOCK. 493 srsrvant, and let not the evil one prerail ao^aliist me !" — - " June 28. Being overcome with the fury of my cnc- tniesy dispirited with evil reports, and tlie world figlit- ing vmder their prince against me, it shook my animal frame, and I fell sick : And I this day, cowardly, fearin<>- man, and not trusting in my Goj), resigned my curacy, which was what my enemies wanted, and thereby they obtained a great advantage over me ; lor it was said, my resignation was an evidence of guilt, though the charge itself was not criminal, nor any, no not the least evidence was given of the charge.*" — " July 12. My troubles have been very severe and very sharp ever since I resinned my curacy. A thousand new lies have been raised, &c. \-c. &c. I never knew so lamentable a time. The Lord in mercy look upon me, and give me strength for my day."" — I coj)y this from his Diary, that it may be JK)ticed, how that no holiness of life nor anv other considerations arisinji from age or profession can exempt the people of Gou from the falsehood and malice of their enemies, and how circumspectly therefore and wisely they ought to walk to- wards them that are without, that the rage of their enemies may become its own reproof. Thus it was with I\Ir. ]\Iad- dock; for two of his bitter enemies, who iiad been most active against him, afterwards relented, " behaved exceed- ingly kind, and acknowledged to him, that the reason of the whole was, that they could not endure the doctrine he had preached to them; for, as to the slander, they never had believed a word of it, but only used it as an instrument against him.''"' Mr. Maddock's note upon this is: " Now my enemies have confessed their enmity to Gou and his word, and to me for preaching it. O Lord, by this con- fession, thou hast greatly eased my mind. Thou hast made mine enemies contess that they have persecuted thy ser- vant out of malice ; but remember, I beseech thee, their blindness and ignorance, and pardon them Ireely for thy dear Son's sake." — This was all the revenge which the meek man of God sutlereil himself to feel upon this try- ing occasion. If the common enmity of such poor creatures wen- worth recording, I might have noticed that their opposi- tion began several years before, even from Mr. ^Maddock's tirst residence among them, and that they had early disco- vered whose agents they were, and whoso work they were doing, by accusing him' to the bishop for not burying the. dead, and for some other mutters etpially false aud frivo- lous, from which it was easv for him to juslit'y himsell by th- 49^ M A D D O C K. the numerous testimonies of his parishioners, and to the bishop's entire satisfaction. The great and true offence was, that the congregations were large, and that the word of God ran and was glorified in a vast number of per- sons, both in the town and in the country round about him. In September 1773, he removed to Guilsborough, and entered upon the curacy of Creaton, a neighbouring vil- lage, which was the last stage of his ministry. Here he laboured in season and out of season, with all zeal and dili- o-ence, for — twenty pounds a-year ! As to his great success in the ministry, I will refer the reader to his own account of it, in a letter to me, dated at Creaton, 16th July 1783, which I have placed in a note below:* And I could add a great deal more, if I had room, both * " You kindly chide me for not acquainting you with what Cod is doing among my people. My Dear Friend, ft is a proud tiling to men- tion, or, perhaps, I might express myself better in saying, it is dange- rous to talk of, lest it should stir up the pride that is naturally in our hearts. A man spe.iks very awku'ardly when he talks of himself. J^ut vhat I mentioned in my letter to Mr. fldl, seemed neee^sarily to flow from my subject. I told him some of my hearers subscribed, &c. [mean- ing for some books.] This, therefore, shewed there was a work croiug for- ward, otherwise I should have been silent, and said nothing of myself. But it is not, indeed it is not, a revival of the work at this day, as you mention : I bless God, and to his praise I desire to speak it, without boas' ing, it has always been so wherever he has sent me. When I came the first Sunday to this place, in October 1773, I had not above twenty, which was the usual congrCfjation. Even the sound of the Gospel ■was unknown in these parts. The very next Sunday, which was the next time I preached, I could scarcely get into the church. In less? than two years, viz. June 1775, I built the gallery, for the church would not contain the people. I preached one year at Naseby. God was pleased to work so mightily there, that in that time (for the rector would not let me preach any longer, because the church was crowded,) many were converted, how many God knows, but there were so many, that they built a meeting-house at Clipson, the next parish to Naseby, because Creaton was too far for them to attend constantly with their families. About three years ago I was ill six weeks with the ROut : My people feared 1 should die; upon this tliey built a meeting- iiouse at Guilsborough, two miles from Creaton, and both these places are Crowded. As soon as 1 lost these two congregations, my church was immediately filled with new faces, who before could not get in, so that J never missed them ; and now 1 am so full, that every Sabbath very many stand in the church-yarJ under the windows, because they cannot get in even into the porciies. But why should you urge me to say more ':' It was the same at Kettering. It was the same twenty-four years &j,o, when I left Weston-Favel. Mr. Rylaud had above a hundred of my people; and owns at this day, that, his meeting is greatly indebted i(j my leaving his neighbourhood. There are four, if not more, \vh<. are now dissenting ministers, who v;ere converted under me, and who, because they cmld not get ordination in our church, preacli anions: tliat people. Three have stated meeting-houses, one in Huntiiigdon- siiire, one near Avlesb'iry in BuckinsUamshiie, and one in Shropshire. This M A D D 0 C K. 4,95 both from his own diary and memoranda, from his let- ters to his and my vahiable and ingenious tVicnd tJje Rev. Mr. Moses Browne, and from his correspondence with my- self. Some of these Letters, and especially those to Mr. Browne, breathe such a spirit of evangelical piety, that their publication would be a valuable treasure to the Chris- tian world. But I must now, for the sake of brevity, proceed to give some account of the close of this valuable life. He began with his favourite theme at Creaton, — Gon {s Love, 1 John iv. 16. And the love of Gou crowned his labours and his life at this favoured village. He was n(;t attacked with any particidar disease ; but, being advanced in years, and long oppressed with troid)les, he seenied to fall into a gradual decay of nature, which, however, did not prevent him from the discharge of his duty, but lor one Sunday before he died. The last performance of his ministerial office was a very laborious one. He preached twice, after twice reading prayers, administered the sacra ment to a numerous congregation, and buried a corpse. In this respect he fully enjoyed his desire of remaining here no longer than he could work for his Master anid the good of souls. Upon asking his pious nephew, who attended him with medical assistance during his last illness, whether he saw any hope of his recovery, and upon being inlbrmed that it was very doubtful, he immediately uttered with thank- fulness, " Glory be to God on high r As he was going up stairs a night or two before his death, his clerk wislied him a good night, and added, ' the Lord comfort you. Sir !' He instantly replied, " I don't want comfort, John.'"" Two of his people, who stood by his bed-side as he was dying, being in tears, and lamenting, he called to them and said, " You are poor soldiers indeed." He quitted this vale of tears on Sunday morning, about six o'clock, July 17, 1785, in the seventy-second year of his age, and was buried in the church-yard of Creaton, by his own desire, on the 21st of July tbllowing ; when a sermon was preached to a very large and much-aHected congregation, by the Rev. Mr. Scott of Oiney, upon Acts xiii. 36. His person was tall and rather slender ; but his as[)ect was both venerable and agreeable. Though tried with man} This hatli God wroiislit! But if it is boasting, rememlirr, you have compelled me to it, and therefore 1 hope you wilt panlon nie. Lui. bkssed be Uop, the best of it is, Tiie woik is not yet at an cii9 suit called them Cahnnianoruvi atavi, the great fluecstbi's of the Calvinists. Of ttie most remarkable individuals, who supported the great truths of the <;os|)el with more or less clearness from tlie tUiys of the fatiiers, (wlucl; can- not properly be carried down lower at the utnmst than the sixth or seventh century, though Scultetus* aoes somewhat lower) several respectable names may l)e adduc- ed in successive ages ; but, in this place, their names only; though their iiistory deserves the amplest consider- ation. The venerable Ecde may stand among the first, who flourished, A. 1). 710. Alchwin, or Alcuinus, ano- ther Englishman, and Uede's discijjle, A. I). 770. Cle- ment the Scot, and Adalbert of France, both in this cen- tury. The famous Gotteschalcus, whose life Arciibishop Usher has written, lived about the vear 84-0. licmie stcii in the lives of liishop Hooper, Kidley, Hogirs, ^.c. When, however, ihc trying hour of persfcutiou came, these (xoixl men lamented lli.it tl.eir tiim- had been so ill employed, as m such kind of di>agrceiiients among real l)rethreu. See, ebpecially, liidlcy's Letter to llouiier in Fox's Acts, &.c. •f- In proof of this, »:ee the valuable Syntagma cun^fetsiunun:, coul.iir- jng the Articles of almost all the Protestant cbiirchcb : prinnd in 1612. t Ded. to Vtb Book of Ecclesiastical Toliiy. 503 CONCLUSION. ral they should prefer for themselves, and earnestly re^- conimeiKl to others. The great piety and worth of the men * who formed the foreign protestant establishments, were certainly great reconiniendations to the establish- ments themselves. And, therefore, some of the exiles, who were in the sentiments of these divines, being freed from popish persecutions, upon their return to England, thought our lleformation would never be perfect, till their brethren likewise had adopted all which they themselves had seen carried on so happily and successfully abroad. It must be owned, that they did not enough consider the dif- ference of people, of state, of numbers, and extent. A small church, like a small territory, may be governed well by a system, which might throw a larger into all manner of confusion. They quarrelled, therefore, first with the clerical habits: And if tiie dispute could have ended by concession, it surely is but of little consequence what garments men might wear. Let every thing be done decently and in order ; and then, whether ministers wear black coats or white, gowns or cloaks, bands or no bands (which are a modern invention of happy uniformi- ty), surplices or none at all ; they may join with their people, or with their bretliren at large, in supplicating the divine blessing, and may expect to find it. But, as one difference unhappily generates another, the ceremonies be- came the next subject of open disputation ; and, then quickly afterwards, the discipline or episcopal establish- ment of the church itself. There were various opinions and wishes, upon all these points, among those who professed their discontent. And O that a veil of ob- scurity could be thrown over the many animosities among good and excellent men, which these outward affairs oc- casioned in our land, to the diversion and scorn of the papists, and to the disquietude and spiritual hindrance of the protestant world ! It may candidly be believed, that these otherwise valuable persons did not foresee the evils which might and did ensue from these litigations (though they really were foretold above sixty years before they came ^' In honour of the moderation and Catholicism of the great foreign Protestants, it must be mentioned, that they have uniformly expressed much veneration for our English establishment, and a hearty desire of fraternal concord. The learned reader may see many testimonies of this kind, collected by Spanheim in his Misc. Sacr. Antiq. col. 124J', &c. And our greatest and best divines here have formei'ly declared the same kindness and respect for the evangelical churches abroad. CONCLUSION. 503 came to pass)—" Evils, which were tlicn more easy for them to prevent, than for their posterity to remedy." Let me only add as a matter of truth, without meumnT (o give offence, that there were some great faults on hotii sides ; first, because they quarrelled about ind f!crent things: and next, because iu their heat neither party were properly disposed to yield in any respect or to comply witli the other. If the churchmen enforced the le>;al discipline with the arm of power, some of the puritans jjuslied their favourite platform in thu spirit of jjcrversene^s, and were as wanting in moderation of languai;e, as the other,-: possibly could be in milthiess and forbfarance. ]]oth par- ties urged every thing to the extreme, instead of seeking, what wise and good men above all others should seek, some happy medium in which they might join. Whatever un- reasonable was desired on one side, or unreasonably re- tained on the other, cool men niight have debated with decency, and gracious men have concluiled with harmo- ny. They would have rendered in such an event, the opposition of mere opposers quite inexcusable. It is always easy indeed to find matters of se|)aration ; but it requires more than natural skill (though it be natural interest and happiness) to discover the point of union, and a very great measure of Christian patience and self- denial to concur therein, when it is found. 3. When parties were thus unhappily formed, the warm censures on both sides soon widened the bi each, and gave birth to distinguishing names. Those who adhered to the foreign discipline were called Precisians and Puritans, which, in a good sense, are titles of honour to the chil- dren of Gou, but, in the evil one, were sounds of op- position to an ecclesiastical constitution. .Alter a season, many moderate churchmen wlm valued the essentials of religion above all tbrms, and who therefore could not join in the common vehemence, and much lesi in the de- parture from the great common principles which atltcr- wards followed, were also dignified by these denominations. At this time, however, there was a general agreement in all the great principles of the gospel. The dispute (it may be said) was not about the food, but about the disli which should hold it. At length, towards the end of the reign of King James the First, other prim i|)les lu-gan to creep in. Their vigour, if not their rise in our church, arc generally ami justly imputed to Dr. Laud. This prelate, the son of a clothier at Heading, had laised himself by the patronage of the famous Dyikc of liuckinghani, to the diict^tinp 5m> CONCLUSION. direction of church affairs; and being himself an Armi- nian anil iull of his order, he took care to introduce such men and measures, as mi:!;!it promote his designs of dis- seminating his principles, and of exalting the splendour of the hierarchy. This ambitious and hauglity spirit did infinite mischief, and farther enlarged the breaches, which were but too wide already. He was the first who indulged the humour of settinoj the church above her own articles, and of bringing her nearer to the suspicious neigiibour- iiood of Home : And he was assisted in this by a iiomisli renegado, the Archbishop of Spalato, who first gave the name of doctrinal Puritans to tliose truest sons of the church, who abhorred Arndniaiiism. His inventions and ceremonies might have been pitied for their nonsense, if they had not deserved hatred from the rigour with which he enforced them. But, though rigid in the idle adjust- ments of bowing to the altar and at the name of Jesus, and in turning the people's faces to the east wliile the creed was repeating, with such like insipid trifles, he was lax enough in more important things. The Book of Sports, and the prohibition of afternoon sermons on the ^Lord's Days, are a striking specimen of the Arminian mo- rality. I would not mean to say, that Laud himself was an immoral man, in the common use of the term ; but lie certainly had neither the spirit of an humble Christian, nor the temper of a true father in the church of God : Nor indeed had he the learning and other abilities of a great divine. His political aim (for it surely cannot be called religious) was to form a reunion or coalition with Rome ; and to accomplish this design it was necessary to remove that capital barrier, the xxxix Articles, so long and so firmly established by law. If that proud church could ]iave submitted in some points, he seemed to endeavour after such concessions in ours, as might draw her as near to the other as the times might allow. It would have been a more gracious pursuit to have studied the concord of the protestant churches, than to have formed such world- ly combinations of ecclesiastical pride. Church union, as well as all other, is indisputably good ; but not upon the demolition of essential truths, nor upon such gross corruptions, as put to hazard the very vitals of Chris- tianity. 4. "During all these innovations and distractions, a great majority of excellent men were found in and adhered to the establishment and its form of soimd doctrines ; but as such were removed by death, their places were care- fully CONCLUSION. 50.^ fully filled by persons who were otherwise ^nhidcd. Amongthe former, Usher, Baveiiant, Hall, Bedell, Ward, VVillet, and several others, are names to be remembered, with the most veneratinnpplied a very broad and strc.sg cm-rent of inmio- ralities throughout the land. 'J'o avoid the least appear. anceii 508 C O N C L U S I O N. ances of puritanism, men frequently ran into the most avowed licentiousness. Pietv became ridiculous, if not suspected of disloyalty : And it became an odd test of orthodoxy among many people to vie in drinking bum- pers to church and state ; as if drunkenness and debau- chery were just criteria of loyalty, or could properly sliew that men had found out the right way of salva- tion. All methods were used to decry vital and expe- rimental religion. The inimitable wit and scurrility of Hudibras gave point to the malice of the dull, and (un- der pretence of exposing some undeniable hypocrisies) fur- nished the irreligious and the ignorant with many an ar- row likewise against that, which their interest might make them wish to be untrue. Thus godliness, abused by hy- jiocrisv, was condemned altogether for hypocrisy itself. About thij time also arose a set of learned and specula- tive theologists, who adopted a vagtie new method of in- culcatin''- the Christian religion. Thev would be neither • 'ill Calvinists nor Arminians, positively; but churchmen they wpre, though they rather dictated to than followed the church upon the most essential doctrines. Burnet, who admired them, has given us an account of their plan in the '" history of his own time."* They were rationa- lists more than humble disciples of Christ, and, from the great laxness of their princij)les, received the wild, long title of latitudinarians. In order to understand the Scrip- tures, thev recommended the study of Plato, Tully, and Plotin, who either never heard of those Scriptures, or were enemies to their truths. This self-taught sect, there- fore, instead of insisting upon the necessity of the Holy iSpirit's inlluence to know the things of God, urged the powers of a corrupted, blinded, and fallen reason, which deserved no other name from the apostle than that of ihe carnal mind, and which can neither know Goo aright, nor truly desire to know him. On the other hand, they treated all the operations of grace as mere cant and enthusiasm ; or those among them who sol'tened their language upon this subject, represented those operations as so iriscrutably secret, as to be entirely unknown. They should have considered, in their pretended reaF:>nings, that nn unknown operation in heart and life amounts to none at all. From this spring, much of our present modern di- vinity (and it is justly enough so called) took its rise — a er, or were turned into places of convivial entertainment. IMany of the old country seats throughout England can shew these melan- choly monuments of departed piety. 8. Nor were the dissenters themselves without blanie. It is an unpleasant task, in writing of these times, that one cannot utter trutii without censure. They also had their diflercnces; and those who were angry with church- men for discord and persecution, ibund it diilieult to be :it peace among themseh'cs. Dr. Owen and Mr. Uaxter had suft'ered so much by disputes, that it gave their ene- mies an advantage, ^vhen they could not heal them among their friends. Upon the accession of King James the Se- cond to the throne, his bigotted violences brought the churchmen and dissenters somewhat nearer together, but rather more as politicians tiian as Ch}-istia7is: for when the political occasion was removed, their Christian alfections abated too easily towards each other. In short, no saluta- rv use was made of that crisis for a more cordial union. ' J). Tlie dissenters, tolerated and favoured by the lievo- Intion, grew at length Inditferent to, or despaired of this union. It must be allowed, that the motives to it w<'rf rather lessened than increased, not only from tlic oKl dis- put'- * See " Gibbon's Account of Christianity consulorcd," by thr !;• • "Mr. Milner, p. Cj8, &c. 510 CONCLUSION. pute of a powerful hierarchy, but from the inundation of Arminianism, which with the rationalism above-mentioned, naturally bearing along a vast colluvies of corrupt opi- nions with them, almost overspread the establishment. The ignorance and irreligion also of many of the esta- blished clergy, gave great and just cause of offence. The dissenters were, besides, too much taken up with their own particular differences, about this time, to think of more extensive agreements; and this afforded very great grief to the most excellent men among them. Nor was concord at all prevalent under this reign in the church. The Revolution had given birth to a distinction between *' High Church" and " Low Church,'' in which there was scarce a grain of real godliness, but an immense har- vest of political and ecclesiastical controversy. — It is to be wished, that matters of this kind could be consigned to everlasting oblivion. It is riglit to know them only as the rocks, on which so many persons have suffered the ship- wreck, if not of their faith, yet certainly of brotherly affection and Christian concord. 10. Upon these complications of principle, our affairs seemed to subside ; the dissenters maintaining the most distinguishing doctrines of the church, and too many churchmen preaching, living, and acting against them, yet subscribing, swearing to, and reading them, as the neces" sary passports to preferment. Free grace sounded from the desk, and free will from the pulpit ; and both within the space of an hour. Thus hath the matter continued, more or less, till this very day, with respect to the two parties ; or, if there be any alteration, we are sorry to say, that it is not for the better. If dryness has increased among them Avho held the truth, certainly darkness has not lessened among those who departed from it. We have had men of great learning indeed ; yet learning is not grace, but most commonly, when it is not in subjection to grace, renders the possessors more proud and selfish, and less dependent upon the divine blessing, than they probably would have been without it. In this view, there- fore, it loses its best advantage. 11. About the year 1740, or rather before, it pleased God to revive his own work in the midst of the land, and, by the instrumentality of a few obscure and despised men, to effect a surprising alteration in sentiment and practice. As the prevalent heterodoxy in the establish- ment took its rise at Cambridge, so this lively promulga- tion of the old truths and ancient principles of the church CONCLUSION. 511