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TO THE 
 
 CHURCH AND CONGREGATION 
 
 LATE UNDER THE PASTORAL CARE 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Rev. THOMAS SPENCER, 
 
 0itmoit8, 
 
 COMPILED AND PUBLISHED, AT THEIR REQUEST, 
 
 AS A TESTIMONY TO THE WORLD 
 
 OF THB 
 
 ADMIRATION AND ESTEEM HIS GENIUS AND HIS PIETY 
 UNIVERSALLY INSPIRED; 
 
 AND AS 
 
 A GRATEFUL MEMORIAL OF HIS ACCEPTABLE LABOURS 
 
 AND 
 
 TRANSCENDENT EXCELLENCIES, 
 
 AS A MINISTER, AS A MAN, AND AS A CHRISTIAN, 
 ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED 
 
 BY 
 THEIR AFFECTIONATE PASTOR AND &IVCERE FRIEND, 
 
 THOMAS RAFFLES. 
 

 S . / f •« t. 
 
\ 
 
 Stotoetttsement 
 
 TO THE FOURTH EDITION, 
 
 Another edition of the Life of Spencer 
 being called for by the Public, I have 
 done my best to render it more worthy 
 their acceptance. The whole has been 
 carefully revised, and some additional 
 matter thrown into the body of the work. 
 The alterations in the Appendix were 
 suggested by friends on whose judgment 
 I rely, and I hope that they will be ge- 
 nerally acceptable, I am happy in this 
 opportunity of expressing my obligations 
 to the Rev. Joseph Fletcher for the 
 a2 
 
Vi. ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 promptitude with which he furnished his 
 excellent Oration at the grave of Spen- 
 cer. The extensive circulation of the 
 work, both in England and America, 
 where several large editions of it have 
 been published, lead me to hope, that 
 although with great diffidence it was 
 committed to the world, it has been in 
 some measure useful. If it be so, while 
 I gratefully ascribe all the glory to God, 
 I cannot but rejoice that I have not, in 
 this instance, laboured in vain. 
 
 Liverpool, May 9, 1817. 
 
Contents, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction 1 
 
 PART I. 
 
 FROM HIS BIRTH TO HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE ACADEMY AT 
 HOXTON. 
 
 Chap. I. 
 
 The Parentage of Mr. Spencer 3 
 
 His early Couvictions of Sin 5 
 
 Inclination to the Ministry 7 
 
 Diligence in the Acquisition of Knowledge 8 
 
 He works at his Father's Business 11 
 
 Chap. II. 
 
 His Removal to London 14 
 
 His Deportment, and Exercis«s of his Mind during his Resi- 
 dence in the Poultry 15 
 
 Is introduced to the Notice of Thomas Wilson, Esq 17 
 
 Is placed under the Care of the Rev. Mr. Hurdle, of Harwich 18 
 
 Chap. III. 
 
 His Attention to his Studies at Harwich 22 
 
 The Progress of Religion in his Soul „ . 23 
 
 Leaves Harwich, and visits his Family at Hertford 26 
 
 Letter I. — To Mr. Heward. His Submission to the Will 
 
 of God with respect to his future Life 28 
 
 Letter II. — To the same. Acknowledges God's Goodness in 
 
 the Prospects then unfolded before him 30 
 
 Letter III — To the same. Encourages his Friend in his 
 
 Desires after the Ministry 31 
 
 Letter IV. — To the same. His Tribute of Respect to the 
 
 Memory of the late Mr. Winwood. Outlines of 
 
 some Sermons by the Rev. Robert Morison, now 
 
 the Missionary at Canton. His Interview with Mr. 
 
 Morison 33 
 
 Letter V. — To the same. Sketch of an intended Discourse 
 
 on Matthew, v. 8 37 
 
 Letter VI. — To the same. On the Riches of Divine Grace . 40 
 
VI 11. CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Letter VII.— To Mr Heward. His Manner of Life at Har- 
 wich. His affectionate Remembrance of his Friencl 42 
 
 Letter VIII. — To the same. His Progress in Learning. ... 45 
 
 Letter IX. — To the same. His spiritual Privileges at Harwich, 
 
 and his Manner of improving them. Thoughts 
 
 on ' the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man 
 
 availeth much. 1 His Experience in Divine 
 
 Things 47 
 
 Letter X. — To the same. He congratulates and admonishes 
 his Friend on his immediate Prospect of the Mi- 
 nistry. State of Religion in his Soul, &c. &c. &c. 51 
 
 Letter XI. — To the same. Reviews the Dealings of Divine 
 
 Providence with them, &c. Difference between 
 
 natural and moral Inability. Encourages his 
 
 Frieudin preaching at the Poor-house. Answers 
 
 to the Questions, ' How do you prove the Exist- 
 ence of a God from the Light of iNature ?' ' How 
 
 do you prove the Scriptures to have been faithfully 
 
 conveyed to us? 1 and, ' What Proof have you 
 
 that Man was at first created righteous and holy?' 58 
 
 Letter XII. — To the same. On his joining a Church. 
 
 Anticipates the Pleasure of studying with his Friend 
 at Hoxton. On the Hebrew Points 67 
 
 Letter XIII— To the same. Anticipates with anxiety his 
 Examination at Hoxton, and the Difficulties be 
 would meet with when there 71 
 
 Mr. Hoi-die's Testimony to Mr. Spencer's Character and Talents 77 
 
 Mr. Spencer's grateful Acknowledgment of Mr. Hordle's Kind- 
 ness 78 
 
 Letter XIV. — To Thomas Wilson, Esq. with an Account of 
 his Experience — his Motives for desirivig the Mi- 
 nistry — and his Views of Divine Truth 80 
 
 He is admitted a Student at Hoxton 84 
 
 PART II. 
 
 FROM HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE ACADEMY AT KOXTONj TO HIS 
 SETTLEMENT AT LIVERPOOL. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 His Advantages on entering the Academy 86 
 
 His Diligence 88 
 
 Preaches his first Sermon at Collier's End 89 
 
 Preaches frequently in the Villages in the Neighbourhood of 
 
 Hertford 91 
 
 Advantages and Disadvantages of early Exercises in Preaching 93 
 Preaches his first Sermon in his native Town 96 
 
CONTENTS. IX, 
 
 Chap. II. page 
 
 Mr. Spencer preaches his first Sermon at Hoxton 101 
 
 Becomes the Topic of general Discourse in and about London 103 
 
 Preaches at various Places in the Country 105 
 
 Visits Brighton 108 
 
 Visits Dorking for the Recovery of his Health Ill 
 
 Letter XV. — To Mr. George Medley 113 
 
 Chap. III. 
 Letter XVI. — To Mr. John Haddon. His Regret at the 
 
 Loss of his Friend's Society 115 
 
 His Labours at Jewin Street 119 
 
 Letter XVII. — To Mr. John Haddon. Deplores the na- 
 tural Levity of his Disposition, and solicits the 
 
 Fidelity of Friendship 120 
 
 Letter XVUI.— To the same. His filial Duty 123 
 
 He visits his Friends at Hertford 124 
 
 Letter XIX. — To Mr. John Haddon. On Christian bold- 
 ness 126 
 
 Letter XX. — To the same. His Acquiescence in the Ar- 
 rangements of Providence 128 
 
 Letter XXI. — To Mrs. . Expresses Gratitude that his 
 
 Ministry had been made useful — and encourages 
 
 to Perseverance in the Ways of God 130 
 
 Letter XXII. — To Mr. John Haddon. Entreats the Pray- 
 ers of his Friend for Grace to keep him from fall- 
 ing 135 
 
 Visits Cambridge H. K.White, &c 137 
 
 Letter XXIII.— To Mr. John Haddon. On Fluctuations 
 
 in Religious Experience 138 
 
 Letter XXIV.— To the same 140 
 
 Letter XXV. — To the same. On the declining State of his 
 
 Health 142 
 
 Letter XXVI.— To the same. His Labours at Brighton 144 
 
 Delivers an Oration at Hoxton 147 
 
 Letter XXVII. — To Mr John Haddon, His Feelings in 
 
 prospect of the above trying occasion 147 
 
 Chap. IV. 
 Characteristic Sketches 149 
 
 Chap. V. 
 
 He visits Liverpool 1 59 
 
 Letter XXVIIT.— To Mr. John Haddon. On his Arrival 
 
 at Liverpool 162 
 
 Letter XXIX.— To Mr. George Medley 163 
 
 Letter XXX. — To Mr. John Haddon. Account of his 
 
 Labours in Liverpool , , , , 164 
 
*. CONTENTS. 
 
 TT PAGE 
 
 He receives and accepts an unanimous Invitation to Liverpool 166 
 Letter XXXI. — To the Church, &c. His Answer to their 
 
 Call 
 
 167 
 
 Letter XXXII. — On the Exercises of his Mind with respect 
 
 to Liverpool 170 
 
 Mr. Spencer's Engagements and Views with respect to Ton- 
 bridge Chapel 373 
 
 Letter XXXIII.— To Mr. Aicholas Hurry] .......'. '. 175 
 
 Letter XXXIV— To Mr. William Harris. On nis* ap- 
 proaching Separation from his Friends 177 
 
 His last Visit to his Father's House .'. 179 
 
 Preaches his Farewell Sermon at Hoxton " " ] 180 
 
 Review of his Character, at the Period of his leaving London 182 
 
 PART III. 
 
 FROM HIS SETTLEMENT IN LIVERPOOL TO HIS DEATH. 
 
 Chap. I. 
 His Spiritual and Intellectual Endowments for the Ministry 1SS 
 Letter XXXV. — To Mr. John Haddon. His Prospects 
 
 of Usefulness in Liverpool 187 
 
 Letter XXXVI.— To the same. On the first Sabbath of 
 
 his stated Ministry 189 
 
 Letter XXXVII— To his Father. On the Attention ex- 
 cited by his Labours 190 
 
 Letter XXXVIII.— To A Minister. Thanks him for his 
 
 excellent Advice 192 
 
 Letter XXXIX — To Mr. John Haddon. He feels the 
 
 awful Responsibility of his Work 193 
 
 Is called by Affliction to Brighton 194 
 
 Letter XL. — To Mr. Harris. The Exercises of his Mind 
 
 at Brighton 195 
 
 Returns to Liverpool, and lays the first Stone of anew Chapel 197 
 
 He goes to. reside in Toxteth Park 198 
 
 Letter XLI. — To Mr. John Haddon. Describes his in- 
 tended Residence 200 
 
 Is called to Chester, to deliver the Funeral Oration at the 
 
 Grave of his early Friend, the Rev. E. White. . 202 
 
 Letter XL1I. — To Mr, George Medley 203 
 
 Letter XL1II.— To Mr. John Haddon. On the above 
 
 mournful Occasion 205 
 
 Letter X LIV. — To the same. His Devotedness to his Work 209 
 
 Chap. II. 
 Letter XLV. — To Thomas Wilson, Esq. Invites him to 
 
 his Ordination 211 
 
CONTENTS XI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Is ordained 212 
 
 Letter XLVI. — To Mr. John Haddon. His unceasing 
 
 Exertions and growing Delight in the Ministry 217 
 
 Chap. III. 
 Account of the last Week he spent on Earth 220 
 
 Chap. IV. 
 
 Circumstances of his Death 229 
 
 The Sympathy of the public Feeling excited by his Loss. . . . 234 
 
 The Testimonies of the public Prints to his Worth 235 
 
 The Funeral 236 
 
 Verses on the Death of the Rev. Thomas Spencer, by Mr. 
 
 James Montgomery 239 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 Chap. I. 
 Review of Mr. Spencer's Character 243 
 
 Chap. II. 
 Reflections , , , , 273 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 No. I. — Regeneration ; a Sermon, on James i. 18 i. 
 
 No. IT. — Address at laying the first Stone of the new Chapel xix. 
 No. III.— Funeral Oration delivered at the Grave of the 
 
 Rev. Thomas Spencer, by the Rev. J. Fletcher xxiv. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 SELDOM has a task so painfully arduous fallen 
 to the lot of a biographer, as that which, in the 
 mysterious providence of God, has unexpectedly 
 devolved on me. The recollection of departed ex- 
 cellence which a long- series of years had developed 
 and matured, is mingled with a melancholy feeling, 
 and not unfrequently excites the tribute of a tear: 
 but the individual who erects a monument to friend- 
 ship, genius, usefulness, and piety, prematurely 
 wrapt in the oblivion of the grave, must necessarily 
 prosecute his mournful work with trembling hands, 
 and with a bleeding heart, jtind yet the mind is 
 soothed by the communication of its sorrow ; the 
 bosom is relieved of an oppressive burthen while it 
 tells the virtues of the friend it mourns; and the best 
 feelings of the heart are satisfied with the conscious- 
 
Z INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ness, that instead of indulging in solitude the luxury 
 of unavailing grief, it has employed its powers to 
 pourtray, in lively colours, for the improvement of 
 the living, the excellencies of the beloved and pious 
 dead. For myself, with mournful pleasure, I hasten 
 to sketch the rude outline of one of the loveliest and 
 most finished characters the present age has known : 
 — pausing only to express my deep regret, that one 
 so ripe for heaven, and yet so eminently useful upon 
 earth, should be called from the important sphere he 
 occupied, so soon; and that to hands so feeble should 
 be committed, — together with the solemn trust which 
 he resigned in death, the painful duty of erecting 
 this monument to his worth. 
 
jHemotrfi, $c. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 FROM HIS BIRTH TO HIS ENTRANCE INTO THE 
 ACADEMY AT HOXTON. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 The Parentage of Mr. Spencer. — His early Convictions of Siu. 
 His Attachment to the Ministry. — His Diligence in the Acquisition 
 of Knowledge. — He works at his Father's Business. 
 
 THE Reverend Thomas Spencer was born 
 at Hertford, January 21, 1791. — He was the se- 
 cond son of parents, who, placed in the middle 
 sphere of human life, were respectable for their 
 piety, and highly esteemed in the circle in which a 
 wise Providence had allotted them to move. It 
 cannot be expected that any thing peculiarly inter- 
 esting should mark the early childhood of a youth, 
 retired from the observation of the world, and far 
 removed from the influence of any of those circum- 
 stances which might be considered as favourable to 
 the excitation of latent talent, or the display of early 
 genius. And yet the years of his infancy and child- 
 hood were not undistinguished by intimations of a 
 superior mind, from which a thoughtful observer 
 might have been induced to augur something of his 
 
4 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART "■ 
 
 future eminence. He himself observes, in a hasty 
 sketch of his life which now lies before me, — " As 
 far back as I can recollect, my memory was compli- 
 mented by many as being very retentive, and my 
 progress in knowledge was more considerable than 
 that of my school-fellows ; a natural curiosity and 
 desire of knowledge, I think I may say, without 
 vanity, distinguished even the period of my infancy. 
 I now remember questions that I asked when about 
 four years old, which were rather singular, and 
 which were confined chiefly to biblical subjects. 
 No child could be more attached to places of wor- 
 ship, or could be more inquisitive about their con- 
 cerns than myself; and I may add, more given to 
 imitate the actions of the minister and clerk."* 
 
 When he had completed his fifth year, he suffered 
 the severest earthly privation a child can know, in the 
 loss of an affectionate mother. Though he was then 
 too young correctly to appreciate a parent's worth, he 
 deeply felt the stroke ; and in the liveliest manner he 
 recalls the impressions which, at that early period, 
 this melancholy circumstance produced upon his ten- 
 der mind. " When the funeral sermon was preach- 
 ed, I could not help noticing the grief which seemed 
 to pervade every person present. Deeply affected 
 myself, I recollect, that after the seryice, as I was 
 walking about our little garden with my disconsolate 
 father, I said to him, ' Father, what is the reason that 
 so many people cried at the meeting this afternoon ? 
 He, adapting his language to my comprehension, 
 said, ' They cried to see little children like you 
 without a mother."* This event, which shed so 
 deep a gloom upon his family, seems to have excited 
 emotions of a serious nature in his mind never to- 
 tally effaced. 
 
 From this time he applied himself with diligence 
 
 • MS. Memoirs. 
 
chap i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 5 
 
 and delight to the business of his school. There was 
 at tins early age something amiable and engaging in 
 his manners; and this, combined with his attention to 
 his learning, soon secured the esteem and approba- 
 tion of his respective teachers, and gained him, toge- 
 ther with the first place and highest honours of his 
 school, the character of " a good hoy." It is pleas- 
 ing to mark the early combination of superior talent 
 and sweetness of disposition in this extraordinary 
 young man; and it would be well did the patrons of 
 early genius more deeply ponder the reflection, that 
 the graces of a meek and quiet spirit are far more 
 estimable than the rare qualities of a prematurely 
 vigorous mind ; and that the talents they cultivate 
 with such anxious care, if unassociated with real 
 excellence of soul, may render the idols of their 
 fond adulation sources of anguish to themselves, 
 and of incalculable mischief to mankind. 
 
 Whilst a school-boy he became passionately fond 
 of novels, histories, adventures, &c. which he de- 
 voured with the greatest eagerness, in numbers truly 
 astonishing. The perusal of these he always prefer- 
 red to play and other amusements adapted to his 
 years. He delighted much in solitude ; nor did he 
 know a happiness superior to that of being alone, 
 with one of his favourite books. He took no delight 
 in the games of his companions, nor did he ever min- 
 gle in their little feuds. His natural levity, however, 
 was excessive ; and his wit, i'ed by the publications 
 he so ardently perused, would often display itself in 
 impurity of language, to the laughter and amusement 
 of his fellows. Yet he was not without his moments 
 of serious reflection, and that of a very deep and 
 dreadful kind. — He was often overwhelmed with 
 religious considerations, and the solemn sermons he 
 sometimes heard filled him with terror and alarm. So 
 intolerable at one period were the horrors of his 
 mind, that in an agony of despair, he was tempted, 
 
6 LIFE OF SPENCER. rxRTJ. 
 
 as many have been before him r to destroy himself. — 
 Thus at an early age he became intimately acquaint- 
 ed with the depravity of his nature ; and from the 
 deep waters of spiritual distress through which he 
 was called to pass, his soul imbibed an air of humi- 
 lity and a habit of watchfulness, which enabled him 
 to meet with firmness the dangers of popularity, and 
 to maintain a steady course, notwithstanding the 
 press of sail he carried. 
 
 To these deep convictions of his early years may 
 perhaps be traced the peculiarly pressing and empas- 
 sioned manner of his address, when he strove to 
 arouse the slumbering conscience, or direct the 
 weary wanderer to the cross of Christ. The sa- 
 cred poems and the passages of holy writ which most 
 he loved, were those of a cast similar to that of his 
 own fervent mind ; and I have heard many tell, with 
 tears, of the animation and rapture with which he 
 would often repeat from that beautiful hymn of Henry 
 Kirke White, his favourite author, whom in many 
 shades of character he much resembled, and alas I 
 too much in his early and lamented fate — 
 
 " Once on the stormy seas I rode, 
 
 7 he storm was loud, the night was dark; 
 
 The ocean yawn'd, and rudely biow'd 
 The wind that toss'd my found'riug bark. 
 
 Deep horror then my vitals froze; 
 
 Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem,. 
 When suddenly a star arose, 
 
 It was the star of Bethlehem. 
 
 It was my guide, my light, my all, 
 It bade my dark forebodings cease ; 
 
 And thro' the storm of danger's thrall, 
 It led me to the port of peace. 
 
 Now safely moor'd — my perils o'er, 
 I'll sing' first in nights diadem, 
 
 For ever and for evermore. 
 
 The star!— the star of Bethlehem." 
 
e*Ar. I. LIFE OF SPENCER. 7 
 
 The bias and inclination of his mind began at this 
 early period to be disclosed. Preachers and preach- 
 ing' seemed to occupy all his thoughts, and often he 
 would exercise himself in addressing such domestic 
 congregations as may be supposed to constitute the 
 usual auditories of a child. Thus, in his earliest 
 years, he displayed his fond attachment to the Chris- 
 tian ministry, and the first efforts of his infant mind 
 were directed to that sublime and dignified profes- 
 sion, in which the capacities of his maturerage wers 
 so brilliantly displayed. These infantine composi- 
 tions were not unfrequently entirely his own ; and 
 when they claimed not the merit of originality, they 
 were derived from hints collected from what he had 
 heard or read. But his preaching exhibitions could 
 not long be confined to the narrow circle and scanty 
 congregation his father's house supplied. Tidings 
 of his. early pulpit talents soon circulated through 
 the neighbourhood; many were anxious to listen to 
 the instructions of this extraordinary child; and most 
 regarded him, as he himself expresses it, " a parson 
 in embryo." 
 
 At this age also he wrote verses. He seems how- 
 ever to have had but a mean opinion of his talent for 
 poetry. It certainly was not the art in which he most 
 excelled. Though an individual may have a power 
 of rhyming sufficient for throwing his feelings into 
 tolerably easy verse, yet something more than this is 
 required in a production which, under the dignified 
 title of a poem, is to meet the public eye. Most men 
 of an enlightened mind and cultivated taste, have 
 solicited the muses' aid for purposes of private in- 
 struction and amusement, and the domestic and 
 social circle have been privileged to share in both ; 
 but it is not necessary to the perfection of the pulpit 
 orator that he should be an exquisite poet, nor is it 
 at all a detraction from the greatness of his charac- 
 ter, that the world should hesitate to pronounce 
 
© LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 
 
 unqualified praise upon poetical effusions, on which 
 the eye or the ear of friendship might linger with 
 delight. 
 
 These observations will serve to account for the 
 circumstance, that none of Mr. Spencers poetical 
 productions are preserved in these pages. And 
 though some partial friends, who saw with pleasure 
 the pieces which circulated in private, may regret, 
 for the moment, their entire exclusion, his biogra- 
 pher hopes that he shall render a more essential ser- 
 vice to the memory of his departed friend by occu- 
 pying their place with extracts from his papers of a 
 more solid and interesting kind. 
 
 These early displays of talent however introduced 
 him to the notice and friendship of some individuals 
 of wealth and consequence. This was doubtless 
 considered by himself and his fond parent as no in- 
 considerable circumstance in the history and pros- 
 pects of a child, who, if he rose into eminence at all, 
 could have no facilities afforded him by the auspi- 
 cious omens of his birth, or the rank of his father's 
 family. But alas ! the anticipations which he che- 
 rished from this quarter, and perhaps with some 
 degree of reason, were not all realized to the full 
 extent to which his sanguine mind had urged them. 
 It was doubtless well for him % however, that they 
 were not. The disappointments of childhood will 
 give a sober cast to the, otherwise, too glowing 
 pictures and too anxious hopes of youth ; they will 
 excite a caution in respect to the confidence which 
 we should place in the prospects that unfold them- 
 selves before us, and will admirably prepare the 
 mind for the event, when the pledges of friendship lie 
 long unredeemed, and the fair blossoms of hope are 
 blasted and destroyed. 
 
 In the mean time he applied himself with surpris- 
 ing diligence to the acquisition of knowledge. In 
 his favourite pursuit he met with the most important 
 
chap. '• LIFE OF SPENCER. 9 
 
 aid from the valuable friendship of the late Rev. 
 Fbenezer White, then the pastor of the Indepen- 
 dent church at Hertford. — For this amiable and 
 pious man, so early lost to the church of Christ,* 
 Mr. Spencer ever cherished and expressed the 
 warmest affection; whilst he survived but a few 
 weeks the melancholy pleasure of paying the last 
 tribute of respect to his beloved remains, and giving 
 utterance to the warm and authorized feelings of 
 his heart in a most impressive oration at his grave. 
 From Mr. White he learned the rudiments of the 
 Latin tongue; and though the early removal of that 
 gentleman to Chester deprived him of his kind and 
 valuable assistance, yet his father, who had discern- 
 ment to perceive, and wisdom to foster, the unfold- 
 ing talents of his son, afforded him the means of 
 more ample instruction, by sending him to the best 
 school his native town contained. Approbation can- 
 not be expressed in language too unqualified of the 
 conduct, in this respect, pursued by the parent 
 of this amiable youth. Though in circumstances 
 most unfriendly to the object, he nobly determined 
 to make every possible sacrifice for the cultivation 
 of a mind which promised to rise superior to the ob- 
 scurity of its birth, and consecrate, at some future 
 period, no common share of genius to the noblest 
 and the best of causes. It is indeed to be deplored, 
 that many important accessions are lost to the inter- 
 ests of religion and of literature, from the walks of 
 humble life, by the neglect of ignorant, or the re- 
 
 * Mr. White died Sunday, May 5th, 1811. An interesting-memoir 
 of his life (together with his select remains) has been published by 
 the Rev. Joseph Fletcher, A. M. of Blackburn ; with a recommenda- 
 tory preface, by the Rev. Dr. Collyer. of London. In the melancholy 
 but pleasing task of selecting these papers for the press, Mr. Fletcher 
 was originally joined by the subject, of these memoirs : — but whilst 
 Mr. Spencer was thus engaged in rearing a monument to the memory 
 of his departed friend — he too was suddenly removed, and it devolved 
 upon the hand of friendship to perform the same office for himself. 
 
 b2 
 
10 LIFE OF SPENCER. part i. 
 
 luctance of sordid, parents. In the one case there 
 is no capacity to discover the talents of the child, 
 and in the other no disposition to make the sacrifice 
 necessary for their cultivation. 
 
 " Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 
 The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : 
 
 Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen. 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 
 Gray. 
 
 At about the age of twelve years Mr. Spencer 
 considers himself to have become the subject of se- 
 rious impressions of a deep and permanent kind, and 
 to have felt something experimentally of the power 
 of religion. This most interesting circumstance he- 
 simply states in the memoir of his life before referred 
 to, but mentions no particulars respecting the mode 
 in which these impressions were wrought upon his 
 mind, or in what way they operated upon his charac- 
 ter, his conduct, and his views. The general effect, 
 however, he distinctly records to have been, that of 
 heightening his desire of the Christian ministry, for 
 which, it was strongly impressed upon his mind, God 
 had destined him; whilst it reconciled him to his pre- 
 sent situation, which was most uncongenial to the 
 bias of his mind, and most unfriendly to the accom- 
 plishment of his ardent wishes; for the circumstances 
 of his fathers family were at that time of such a na- 
 ture as to render his assistance necessary between 
 the hours of school, and at length to compel his. 
 parent, however reluctantly, entirely to remove hinu 
 But his removal from school was not in consequence 
 of his father's having abandoned the idea of his 
 one day entering on the work of the ministry. It 
 was an act dictated by prudence, which afforded him 
 an opportunity patiently to wait, and calmly to watch 
 the leadings of Providence, and the occurrence of 
 any cjrcumstanceswhich might tend to fix the future 
 <destiny of his son. These prudential arrangements,. 
 
chap. i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 11 
 
 however, were a source of the keenest anguish to 
 the mind of Spencer. He bowed at first with reluc- 
 tance to the yoke of manual labour, when but par- 
 tially imposed — rapidly performed the appointed 
 task, and leaped with joy from toils so repugnant to 
 the elevated and ardent desires of his soul, to soli- 
 tude and to books. " With the greatest grief," he 
 observes, " I left school at thirteen years of age, 
 and was employed at some of the worst branches of 
 my father's business. I endeavoured to resign my- 
 self as much as possible to my circumstances, and 
 twisted zcorsted every day with a heavy heart." But 
 religion, in early life, assumed in him its mildest and 
 most amiable forms. Its characters were those of 
 uncomplaining acquiescence in the arrangements of 
 Providence, and cheerful resignation to his earthly 
 lot. If indeed, with humble submission to the will 
 of God, he occasionally uttered a warm expression 
 of desire, and allowed his imagination to dwell upon 
 the bright visions of better days, and the animating 
 prospect of pursuits more congenial to the tone and 
 inclination of his mind, which hope would often give, 
 — it was natural : nor is it incompatible with the 
 most perfect resignation to the divine will, thus to 
 dwell on scenes of promised pleasure with delight. 
 
 The writer, in thus recording the mingled feelings 
 of his friend, has participated too deeply in circum- 
 stances and emotions similar to his, not to do it with 
 the warmth of sympathy. He knows how hard it is 
 to give a cheerful and undivided attention to one 
 pursuit, though less repugnant than mechanical em- 
 ploy, when the heart is intently fixed upon another. 
 Ill does the mind adapt itself to the narrow rules of 
 business, the drudgery of manual labour, or the ha- 
 bits of commerce, when panting after study, devoted 
 to the love of books, or eager to engage in the 
 noblest work that can occupy the powers of man, — - 
 the ministry of the gospel : — impressed with a con- 
 
12 LIFE OF SrENCER. part i. 
 
 sciousness, that if it is the will of God that the desire 
 enkindled and cherished in the bosom should be ful- 
 filled, some event will transpire to afford facilities 
 and point the way, — but day after day expecting 
 that event in vain, till " hope deferred makes the 
 heart sick," and all the visions with which she has 
 charmed, seem gradually yielding to the influence of 
 despair. Yet even here, religion has a power to 
 sooth : she sheds the milder influence of resignation, 
 when the glare of hope is gone — 
 
 " Gives even affliction a grace. 
 And reconciles man to his lot. 5 ' 
 
CHAP. II. 
 
 His removal to London. — His deportment, and the Exercises of his 
 Mind duriug his Residence in the Poultry. — His Call to the Mi- 
 nistry. 
 
 MR. Spencer continued working at his fathers bu- 
 siness and in his father's house, for about a year and 
 a half, anxiously expecting some situation to pre- 
 sent itself more congenial to his wishes: but no 
 circumstance arose to interrupt the monotonous 
 sameness of his every day's employ. It seems, how- 
 ever, that he still attended to the cultivation of his 
 mind, and never wholly lost sight of the Christian 
 ministry. Meanwhile business languished, and his 
 father was desirous of seeing him comfortably set- 
 tled. Their mutual anxiety increasing to impatience, 
 and his father reading on the cover of a Magazine 
 an advertisement of a situation which appeared to 
 be suitable, they set out for London ; but upon an 
 interview with the advertiser, they found insuperable 
 difficulties in the way, and returned, with disappoint- 
 ment, to Hertford. 
 
 Some weeks after this fruitless journey, Mr. Spen- 
 cer was recommended by a friend, who also intro- 
 duced him to Mr. Thodey's notice, to place his son 
 
14 LIFE OF SPENCER. Par t «■ 
 
 with Messrs. Winwood and Thodey, respectable 
 glovers in the Poultry. The first interview between 
 the parties was satisfactory ; every arrangement was 
 made preparatory to his being- bound apprentice, 
 and Thomas soon after entered Mr. Thodey's 
 house in his new capacity. The services con- 
 nected with this situation, the better part of which 
 was far from grateful to the wishes of his heart (still 
 panting for the ministry with unconquerable attach- 
 ment) were some of them such as his spirit, at first, 
 but reluctantly submitted to perform; yet aware 
 that, then, the providence of God pointed out no 
 other path, he cheerfully acquiesced, and exchanged 
 the calm and tranquil enjoyments of an endeared 
 domestic circle for the society of strangers, the 
 drudgery of a shop, and the bustle of the Poultry. — 
 But here, as formerly at school, his engaging ap- 
 pearance, amiable manners, and modest behaviour, 
 soon won the affection of the family, (which was 
 large,) whilst his fervent piety and superior talents 
 excited emotions of a higher order. An extract 
 of a letter, obligingly addressed to me from Mr. 
 Thodey himselfj will best record his manner of life 
 whilst under that gentleman's roof. 
 
 " His appearance, his genuine modesty, diligence 
 and integrity, created an interest in our hearts, so as 
 it were almost to identify him as one of our own chil- 
 dren : he shared our privileges ; united with us in 
 family devotion ; and I occasionally took the same 
 opportunities of conversing with him on divine things 
 which I had been accustomed to do with all those 
 under my care. I well recollect one sabbath even- 
 ing being thus engaged with him alone, when, from 
 his pertinent replies to some questions I put to him 
 about the concerns of his soul, and the importance of 
 an interest in the Saviour, I perceived he possessed 
 an uncommon share of talent and intellect. This 
 conversation gave me an impressive idea of his ge- 
 
chaimi. LIFE OF SPENCER. 15 
 
 neral knowledge of the doctrines of the gospel, and 
 I saw in him the traits of a very strong- and ardent 
 mind." 
 
 Whilst at Mr. Thodey's he conscientiously de- 
 voted himself to the interests of his employers, not- 
 withstanding his natural aversion to business. He 
 became peculiarly attached to the family, and re- 
 ceiving from them tokens of affectionate attention, 
 superior to any thing he had a right to expect, and 
 of which he always spoke with gratitude, he became 
 as happy as the circumstances of his lot could pos- 
 sibly allow him to be. He formed an acquaintance 
 with several pious young men, who, though rather 
 above his station, did not hesitate to respect genius 
 and religion, even in a lad of inferior rank in life. 
 Several times also he exercised his preaching talents 
 at the house of a relation of the young man who was 
 then his fellow-servant, but was afterwards a student 
 in the same academy with himself, and is now a use- 
 ful minister of the gospel.* 
 
 He describes the exercises of Ins mind and the 
 mode in which he passed his time, during his resi- 
 dence in the Poultry, with great simplicity and 
 feeling. 
 
 " At this place my time was entirely employed, 
 as it was fit it should be, in executing the will of my 
 two masters: for the young man, who was active 
 and friendly, I formed a great attachment, and was 
 indeed interested in the welfare of the whole family. 
 Marks of respect were shown me which were, I be- 
 lieve, unusual to any of my predecessors, I made 
 myself upon the whole tolerably comfortable; some 
 difficulties and disagreeable circumstances of course 
 fell to my lot, yet upon the whole I had many en- 
 
 * The Rev. Thomas Heward, of Clare, to whom T cheerfully take 
 this opportunity of publicly renderiug my thanks for several interest- 
 ing letters of Mr. Speneer's, which will appear in these pages. 
 
10 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti, 
 
 joyments. My acquaintance, whilst here, encreased: 
 with several young men, who indeed were rather 
 above my station in life, I was particularly intimate ; 
 and more than twice or thrice did I give an exhor- 
 tation at the house of a relative of the young man 
 who was my fellow-servant. The opportunities I 
 had of hearing the word were very delightful, and a 
 higher relish was given to them by the toils and 
 business of the week." # 
 
 To youth who may be placed in similar circum- 
 stances with the amiable subject of these memoirs, 
 his mild and cheerful deportment in scenes so un- 
 congenial to the bias of his mind, should prove a 
 salutary and impressive lesson. Impatience and 
 fretfulness are but ill adapted to the furtherance of 
 any design, and a disposition to murmur, under the 
 arrangements of our present lot, marks a state of 
 mind most unfriendly to the patient endurance of 
 the toils, the anxieties, and the disappointments in- 
 separably connected with the ministerial life. It is 
 an obvious fact, that every young man possessed of 
 piety cannot be employed as a preacher of the gos- 
 pel : whilst to such as conceive themselves endowed 
 with talents for that solemn oiHce, and yet are placed 
 in circumstances which seem to forbid the indul- 
 gence of a hope they still cherish with an anxious 
 pleasure, — the subsequent history of Mr. Spencer 
 will afford another striking proof, in an innumerable 
 series, that where God has actually called and qua- 
 lified an individual for the ministry, he will* in his 
 own time, and by unexpected methods, make the 
 path of duty plain before that individual's feet. Let 
 no one then rashly attempt to break the connected 
 chain of opposing circumstances by which Provi- 
 dence may have surrounded him ; but rather let him 
 wait in patience till the hand that has thus encircled 
 
 * MS. Memoirs* 
 
ch^p • "• LIFE OF SPENCER. 17 
 
 him, opens a passage, and, by events which may 
 justly be considered as intimations of the divine will, 
 invites him to advance. 
 
 These remarks, the result of frequent observations 
 on the ways of God in cases similar to this, not im- 
 properly connect the future scenes of Mr. Spencer's 
 life with those we have already contemplated. For 
 the time was now arrived that the cloud which had 
 hovered over his future prospects should be dissi- 
 pated, and another path, — a path to which he had 
 from infancy directed his attention with fond antici- 
 pation and intense desire, present its varied and 
 momentous objects of pursuit for the vigorous, but, 
 alas ! the short-lived exercise, of Ins superior powers. 
 After a residence of about four months with his em- 
 ployers in the Poultry, circumstances occurred of 
 such a nature as to render his services no longer 
 necessary, on which account he left London, and 
 returned for a while to his parents at Hertford: but 
 some time previous to the event which caused h;s 
 departure from Londou, he had been introduced to 
 the notice of Thomas Wilson, Esq. the benevolent 
 and indefatigable treasurer of the Academy for edu- 
 cating young men for the work of the ministry, at 
 Hoxton. Mr. Wilson perceived in him piety and 
 talents far above his years. His whole appearance 
 and his engaging manners excited in that gentle- 
 man's breast an interest in this amiable youth which 
 he never lost ; and he gave it as his decided opinion, 
 (without elating him with a hope, of the ultimate 
 failure of which there was still a probability) that his. 
 views should, in some way or other, be directed to- 
 wards the ministry.* 
 
 * In these views his employer, Mr. Thcdey, fully concurred, and 
 kindly promised, if his continued conduct and piety should warrant 
 him in so doing, he would cheerfully resign him for the work of the 
 sanctuary, even though he should be bound apprentice; provided that 
 it should appear to be the will of God he should be so engaged. 
 
18 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 
 
 This revolution in Mr. Spencers affairs therefor© 
 was not unnoticed or unimproved by Mr. Wilson, 
 who wisely regarded it as a favourable opportunity 
 for earning* into effect those generous designs re- 
 specting him, which from their first interview he had 
 cherished. He sent for him ; conversed with him 
 upon the subject, and introduced him to the Rev. 
 William Hordle, of Harwich, a gentleman to whose 
 care some of the young men were commited, whose 
 youth or other circumstances did not allow of their 
 immediate entrance into the academy, though they 
 were considered as proper objects of its patron- 
 age. To this gentleman, at length, Mr. Wilson 
 proposed to send Mr. Spencer for trial of his talents 
 and piety, and for preparatory studies ; a proposi- 
 tion to which Mr. Spencer acceded with unfeigned 
 gratitude and joy. The time fixed for his entrance 
 into Mr. Hordle's family was January, 1S06. The 
 interval between this period and that of his depar- 
 ture from the Poultry, which was in October, 1805, 
 lie spent in his father's house, and for the most part 
 in his father's business. Though this was repug- 
 nant to his feelings, he had learned, by five months' 
 absence, in the bustle of a shop in the city, to ap- 
 preciate the calm and tranquil pleasures of a domestic 
 circle, to which he became more endeared as the 
 lovely qualities of his mind unfolded, and the dig- 
 nified and pleasing prospects of his future life were 
 disclosed. But though considerable light was thrown 
 upon his destiny, yet on leaving London it was not 
 finally determined. This pressed w r ith peculiar 
 weight upon his spirit, which, susceptible of the 
 slightest emotion, must have deeply felt, in leav- 
 ing- one scene of action, the partial uncertainty 
 which rested on the other. Of the day of his 
 departure he thus writes: — " I anticipated it with 
 mingled emotions: a strong desire to see my father, 
 
*"*«• n« LIFE OP SPENCER. 19 
 
 mother,* brother, and sisters, a sensation of sor- 
 row at parting with my old friends, and the idea 
 of uncertainty as to my future engagements in life, 
 equally affected me. Although I had been absent 
 from home but live months, the desire I had again to 
 see Hertford was very great ; nor do I suppose I 
 shall often spend more pleasant evenings than the 
 first I spent at home, after the first time of being- 
 absent for any considerable season: two or three 
 davs were spent in seeing other relations and friends, 
 till— ."f 
 
 Here the narrative, first referred to, and often 
 quoted, written by his own hand, and evidently for 
 his own use, abruptly closes; and here for a moment 
 his biographer will pause. It is a charming do- 
 mestic piece, which the hand of his departed friend, 
 obedient to the warm and vivid recollections of his 
 fervent mind, has sketched; but scarcely has he 
 pictured it to himself and committed the rude out- 
 line to his paper, than he is suddenly called off, 
 and lays down the recording pen for ever! So 
 did his life abruptly terminate. But the mysterious 
 voice that summoned him from his endeared con- 
 nexions upon earth, introduced his emancipated 
 spirit to the bosom of a happier family above ; not 
 another family, but one most intimately connected 
 with his own, for which whilst here, he cherished such 
 a warm affection. The sentiment this sentence 
 breathes was familiar to himself, and often seen in 
 the energy and fervour with which he would repeat 
 these admirable lines: — 
 
 " One family, we dwell in him; 
 
 One church above, beneath, 
 Though now divided by the stream, 
 
 The narrow stream of death. 
 
 His step-mother. f MS. Memoirs. 
 
20 LIFE OF SPENCER. 
 
 One at my of the living God, 
 To his command we bow ; 
 
 Part of the host have crcss'd the flood, 
 And part are crossing now. 
 
 Ten thousand to their endless home, 
 
 This aw fill moment fly ; 
 And we are to the margin come, 
 
 And soon expect to die. 
 
 Dear Jesus, be our constant guide; 
 
 Theu wheu the word is giv'n, 
 Bid death's cold stream and flood divide, 
 
 And land us safe in heav'n " 
 
CHAP. III. 
 
 His Residence at Harwich. — His Attention to his Studies — The 
 Progress of Religion in his Soul. — His Correspondence with Mr. 
 Heward — His Admission into the Academy at Hoxton. 
 
 AT Harwich Mr. Spencer was completely in his 
 element. He commenced the year 1806 in Mr. 
 Hordle's family, and was about completing the fif- 
 teenth of his own life. At this interesting- age, when 
 the powers of the mind begin rapidly to unfold, — 
 when a tone is often given to the future cast of 
 thought, and sentiments are imbibed and habits 
 formed, which constitute the basis or become the 
 germ of the matured and finished character; — it was 
 a circumstance peculiarly auspicious in the history of 
 this lamented youth, that he was introduced to the 
 pious and enlightened care of such a man as Mr. 
 Hordle. In his preaching, in his lectures, and in 
 his conversation, he saw most admirably applied, 
 those elementary principles of theological science, 
 the scholastic forms of which must else have been 
 unintelligible or insipid, to his mind; whilst he 
 almost imperceptibly formed his opinions and his 
 
22 LIFE OF SPENCER. ** RT *• 
 
 character by the correct standard and amiable model 
 constantly before him. 
 
 It must be of incalculable advantage to a young 
 man destined for the Christian ministry, as it evi- 
 dently was to our departed Spencer, to pass a year 
 or two beneath a faithful and enlightened pastor's 
 roof, — to be a spectator of his toil, — a daily wit- 
 ness of the varied scenes of duty and of trial which 
 the Christian ministry perpetually presents. It is 
 true, that in academies, lectures on the pastoral 
 care are read, and discourses on the duties of 
 the Christian ministry delivered: but one week 
 of actual observation must impress more deeply on 
 the mind, than months or years of the most devoted 
 study, all that such lectures can contain, and un- 
 numbered other circumstances, equally important, 
 but which no general analysis can include. And 
 to the diligent improvement of tins peculiar ad- 
 vantage, perhaps, may in part be attributed that 
 early maturity at which Mr. Spencers capacity for 
 the sacred office had arrived. He had the serious- 
 ness, the reflection of the pastor, while but a student; 
 and when he actually entered on that holy office, 
 the exercises of the pulpit, and the habits of his 
 ministerial life, bespoke the knowledge of long 
 experience, rather than of recent theory, and in- 
 dicated the presence of a master s, not a learners 
 Land. 
 
 At Harwich his diligence was exemplary : a ju- 
 dicious course of reading was marked out for him 
 by his respected tutor, which he conscientiously and 
 unweariedly pursued. Besides this, he had the 
 use of an excellent library, with rich supplies from 
 which he occupied his leisure hours. He had 
 made some considerable progress in the Latin; 
 and soon after his introduction to Mr. Hordle, he 
 commenced, under his direction, the study of the 
 Hebrew. With this sacred language he was par- 
 
♦hap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 23 
 
 ticularly pleased, and soon demonstrated his attach- 
 ment and his diligence, by completing, with consi- 
 derable labour, an abridgment of Parkhurst's He- 
 brew Lexicon. This work he accomplished in a 
 small pocket manual, which proved of considerable 
 use to him, and was almost his constant companion.* 
 
 Here, too, he first became acquainted with the 
 principles of Moral Philosophy; and whilst from the 
 lectures of Doddridge, and the essays of Locke, his 
 mind derived vigour and energy; from the study of 
 the Latin poets, and the classic authors of our own 
 country, it obtained amusement, and his compositions 
 gradually assumed an air of elegance and ease. 
 
 But not only in literature and science was his pro- 
 gress conspicuous during his residence at Harwich ; 
 he also made considerable advances in the knowledge 
 and experience of divine things. That in the midst 
 of all his studies, which still he pursued with dili- 
 gence and ardour, religion was the chief object of 
 his regard, is evident from the uniform strain of his 
 letters to his most intimate and beloved friend Mr. 
 Heward, whose fellow-labourer he had been at Mr. 
 Thodey's, and the privation of whose society he 
 seemed deeply to deplore. His views of the Chris- 
 tian ministry became more and more consistent, and 
 the impression of its vast importance more deep and 
 solemn on his mind. The intense desire with which 
 he panted for that sacred and honourable office was 
 tempered, though never checked, by an awe of its 
 vast responsibility, and a consciousness of incapacity 
 for the full discharge of its numerous and laborious 
 duties. 
 
 With Mr. Hordle he would sometimes indulge in 
 
 • Of this manual he made two fair copies, one of which is in pos- 
 session of his tutor, and the other is amongst the. papers from which 
 these memoirs are compiled. The design is honourable to his judg- 
 ment, and the execution to, his perseverance and his accuracy at that 
 early age. 
 
24 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 
 
 the most free and unreserved conversation on the state 
 of his heart, and his private walk with God. In such 
 communications he was always much affected. Sus- 
 ceptible, from the constitution of his nature, of the 
 most dehcate impressions and the keenest feel- 
 ing's, it may be well supposed that in religion he 
 would deeply feel. Hence the tenderness of his 
 conscience and the susceptibility of his mind, would 
 often overwhelm his bosom with convictions of guilt, 
 and agitate him with unnumbered inward conflicts. 
 Yet in the midst of all he evidently grew in spiritual 
 strength — his mind acquired confidence — Ins prin- 
 ciples became daily more and more confirmed — and 
 he had advanced far in a deep and experimental ac- 
 quaintance with the ways of God at an age when 
 such advancement is rarely to be found. 
 
 Whilst at Harwich he regularly shared with Mr. 
 Hordle the pleasing duty of conducting the devotions 
 of the family, and frequently performed the domes- 
 tic service with an enlargement of heart, and a fer- 
 vour and propriety of expression truly astonishing. 
 But this was a circumstance he particularly wished 
 should be concealed. His modesty and diffidence 
 shrunk from the observation of men, even of his 
 nearest friends; and in one of Ins letters* he writes, 
 " My situation is comfortable, — more so than ever: 
 I am considered like one of the family; of an evening 
 I generally, by Mr. H.'s desire engage in family 
 prayer; he hi the morning. O tell it io nobody on 
 any account. When he is out I always do." 
 
 To those who knew not the beloved original, the 
 outlines of whose character these pages but imper- 
 fectly present, the detail of minute particulars may 
 be uninteresting and insipid; but those who were 
 familiar with him will dwell with pleasure on the 
 iaintest lineament that may be here preserved of a 
 
 * To Mr Heward. 
 
chap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 25 
 
 dear departed friend, so ardently, so deservedly es- 
 teemed ; whilst a combination of these varied and 
 retired beauties form a portrait on which the eye of 
 a stranger may dwell with admiration, and the mind 
 reflect with profit. It is in confidence of this that 
 his biographer pauses to record another and a pleas- 
 ing trait in his character at this early age — the pecu- 
 liar warmth and constancy of his friendship. He 
 seems, indeed, at this period, to have had but one 
 bosom friend, except those of his own immediate 
 family : to him his letters breathe an affection the 
 most glowing, spiritual, and pure; and perhaps no 
 little incident more strikingly displays the tender cast 
 of his mind, than that,which he himself relates, with 
 great simplicity, in a letter to his friend : — 
 
 " This morning we read (Mr. H. and myself) the 
 second night of Young's Night Thoughts — the very 
 place that treats of friendship ; I was rather affected 
 at the reading of it; and after it was finished, and 
 we were alone, I told him, (Mr. H.) I was no stran- 
 ger to Young's sentiments in that place. He asked 
 me 'if I had lost any friends?' I told him, no, 
 not by death. He asked me • if I had by treachery?' 
 O no, sir. ' How then V Only by separation /" 
 
 Thus, in pleasant and familiar intercourse with 
 one, for whom he mingled veneration with affection, 
 and of whom he never ceased to speak with all the 
 rapturous energy of gratitude and filial love — in ex- 
 ercises and pursuits every way adapted to satisfy his 
 ardent thirst for knowledge — in scenes and in so- 
 ciety congenial to the tone and bias of his mind — in 
 conscientious preparation for closer studies and se- 
 verer labour, previous to his entrance on that sacred 
 office, long the object of his choice— and in deep 
 communion with himself and God — he passed the 
 allotted period of Ins stay at Harwich. 
 
 As the term (a year) fixed for his residence with 
 Mr. Hordle drew towards its close, his anxiety con- 
 c 
 
26 LIFE OF SPENCER. *a«t i, 
 
 siderably increased. He anticipated, with regret, a 
 departure from scenes and society so much-endeared 
 to him; and the trial through which he was to pass, 
 previous to his admission into the academy at Hox- 
 ton, when viewed in connexion with his youth, ex- 
 cited in his mind considerable apprehension and 
 dread. But the hope of success never entirely 
 abandoned him; whilst the pleasing prospect of 
 being again associated with his friend, who had by 
 this time entered as a student in the same academy, 
 tended not a little to gladden and animate his heart. 
 
 In November he drew up a statement of his reli- 
 gious experience, his views of theological truth, and 
 his reasons/or desiring the Christian ministry, ac- 
 cording to a standing order of the academy with 
 respect to young men proposing themselves as can- 
 didates for its patronage. These papers, written 
 in a style of dignified simplicity, and disclosing a 
 knowledge and experience of divine things, which, 
 in a youth scarcely sixteen years of age, must have 
 excited the admiration of all to whom they were 
 submitted, — were duly presented to the committee, 
 and passed; though not without some difficulty, 
 arising from his age. But the extraordinary quali- 
 fications he appeared to possess, and the strong 
 recommendation of his friend and tutor, Mr>Hor- 
 die, overcame this obstacle, and the 5th of January 
 following was appointed for his personal appearance 
 before the constituents of that institution, in order 
 to give them a specimen of his talents for public 
 speaking. 
 
 Mr. Spencer left Mr. Hordle's family on the 18th . 
 of December, and spent the interval of time between 
 his departure from Harwich and the day of his exa- 
 mination at Hoxton (which was postponed to the 
 7th of January) at his father's house at Hertford. 
 
 Whose imagination does not follow this beloved 
 youth into the bosom of his family again! Who, 
 
WU*.m. LIFE OF SPENCER. 27 
 
 does not picture to himself the charming scenes of 
 social and domestic joy bis presence would inspire ! 
 With what tenderness and affection would his vene- 
 rable father bid him welcome to his paternal home 
 once more ! With what delight would he gaze upon 
 the animated features of his countenance, smiling 
 in all the ingenuousness of youth; while, with emo- 
 tions of a higher order, he marked the unfolding 
 graces of his mind, saw his improvement in the best 
 of sciences — religion, and beheld him daily growing 
 in favour both with God and man. With what ador - 
 ing gratitude would they retrace together the scenes 
 of his childhood, and the many alarming obstacles 
 which once almost forbad the indulgence of a hope 
 that the object of their ardent wish would ever be 
 attained ; and how, in the transport of those happy 
 hours, would his family anticipate for him they loved, 
 in the future stages of an honourable ministry, years 
 of usefulness and comfort. All! pleasing visions 
 never to "be realized ! Little did that interesting 
 group conceive that it was his appointed lot but just 
 to taste the joys and sorrows of a pastor's life, and 
 then expire. Already they had seen the bud swell- 
 ing with fulness — teeming with life ; — now they be- 
 held the blossom, and admired its beauty ; and they 
 thought long to gaze upon the promised charms of 
 the unfolded flower. Happy strangers to the me- 
 lancholy and mysterious fact, that so soon as it had 
 opened, it must be suddenly cut down and die ! But 
 such and so frail is man — " In the morning they are 
 like grass which groweth up ; in the evening it is cut 
 down and wither eth,"* Such and so uncertain is 
 human life — " It is even a vapour that appearetii 
 for a little time, and then vanisheth away."f 
 
 At this interesting period of Mr. Spencer's life it 
 will be perhaps gratifying to the reader to pause, and 
 
 • Psalm xc. -5, 6. t James iv. H. 
 
28 LIFE OF SPENCER. * AHT '• 
 
 gain a more familiar acquaintance with bim, than 
 can be obtained by a narration of events and cir- 
 ccmstances in his history, by perusing some extracts 
 from his correspondence and other papers, which 
 will throw much light upon the formation of his cha- 
 racter, and afford a pleasing specimen of his early 
 genius. 
 
 I have now before me a packet of letters addressed 
 to his friend Mr. Heward, dated at various periods, 
 from October 1805, to December 1806. Though 
 at the commencement of this correspondence he had 
 not attained his 15th year, these letters breathe a 
 spirit of the purest piety, and often express senti- 
 ments by which age would not be dishonoured, in 
 a style remarkably correct and vigorous. But the 
 reader shall participate with me in the pleasure which 
 the perusal of this interesting correspondence— this 
 simple and unaffected utterance of early piety and 
 friendship, has afforded me. 
 
 Letter T. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 « Hertford, Oct 16, 1805. 
 
 « \ s f or tlie manner in which I have and 
 
 do employ my time : my father employs me either in 
 writing or in his business, more than I expected. 
 What leisure time I have, which is but little, I em- 
 ploy in reading, writing, and meditation. I hope 
 he will not press upon me that employment which E 
 dislike, but which however I have been engaged in. 
 
 " Mr. Wilson wrote a letter to my father, the sub- 
 stance of which is as follows: — he informs him that 
 if it is possible he will get a minister to take me, in 
 order to see more of my piety and talents ; and hopes 
 that it will be agreeable for me to be at home with 
 my father till Christmas. 
 
chap. ni. LIFE OF SPENCER. 29 
 
 " These are the circumstances under which I am 
 now placed. I know it is my duty to be submissive 
 and resigned to the will of God, but this is a lesson 
 which, like all others, is to be learned. at the cross of 
 Christ : 'tis there alone, my dear friend, we can study 
 all heavenly graces and duties ." 
 
 It is pleasing to observe with what deep serious- 
 ness of mind he conducted those favourite exercises 
 in exhortation and in preaching, before referred to,* 
 and with what humility, and even thankfulness, he 
 listened to the animadversions of any who were dis- 
 posed to criticise. In another part of the same letter 
 he says — 
 
 " I am not without hope, that I shall praise 
 
 and adore a blessed God for the ill opinions those 
 persons formed of me who heard me preach at Mr. 
 
 X *s. Methinks T cannot be thankful enough 
 
 to you for informing me of it. It has, I trust, made 
 me more watchful and prayerful than before, that I 
 maybe accounted righteous, not in the sight of men^ 
 but in the view of a sin-avenging God. Thus we 
 may see a little of the dealings of Providence witlj 
 his children. When he distresses them in any way 
 he does it for their good. ' All things,' saith the in- 
 spired apostle, * work together for good to them 
 that love God, and are the called according to his 
 purpose.' — Since that evening I have felt a little 
 more comfort in my own mind respecting eternal 
 things. God forbid it should be a false peace. 
 Hope you keep close to a throne of grace in per- 
 sonal prayer. 'Tis from thence we are to draw all 
 our comfort ; 'tis there we can get a soul-transform- 
 ing spiritual view of Jesus ; 'tis from thence we get 
 
 • See page 18. 
 
30 LIFE OF SPENCER* i-ARt f. 
 
 every necessary weapon wherewith to combat our 
 spiritual enemies* 
 
 " So often called away to attend to different things, 
 like you I cannot say I have written such a letter as 
 I could wish. If I should be placed under a minister 
 I think I should have more opportunity for writing- 
 long letters. — However, let us, whenever an oppor- 
 tunity offers, write to each other. Such love as ours 
 is not easily quenched. Let us then manifest it by 
 writing to each other, so as to stir up one another to 
 the exercise of every Christian grace* Still let us 
 keep our eye upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and be 
 constantly concerned to honour his holy name by a 
 consistent walk and conversation J then shall we 
 meet to part no more, and dwell for ever with our 
 Jesus, in upper, better, brighter worlds. 
 
 " The soul that on Jesus has lean'd for repose, 
 He will not, he cannot, desert to his foes : 
 That soul, tho' all hell should endeavour to shake. 
 He'll mver, no never, no never, forsake." 
 
 Soon after it was determined that he should go 
 to Harwich for a twelvemonth, he wrote again to his 
 friend Mr. Heward, and the following extract from 
 his letter, shews the humble, grateful, and devotional 
 habit of Ins mind. 
 
 Letter II. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Hertford. Nov. 12, 1805. 
 " I join with you in saying, ' how wonder- 
 ful are God's ways !' We indeed little thought that 
 Mr. H. was the person under whom I should be in- 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 31 
 
 structed, when we were at Hoxton, hearing him 
 preach; or I, when I breakfasted with him: at the 
 same time, I cannot forbear adoring' that favour 
 which is shewn to me from God : me, who am ut- 
 terly unworthy of the least of all God's mercies. 
 Goodness and mercy have hitherto followed me, and, 
 I doubt not, will, through life. May that goodness 
 which was so gloriously displayed in the salvation 
 of sinners, and that mercy which has snatched so 
 many brands from the burning, be our consolation 
 all through life — our joy in death — and the burden 
 of our song to all eternity." 
 
 The following observations are worthy of a much 
 older pen, and display a judgment and discretion, 
 rather unusual in a lad, not jet fifteen years of age. 
 
 Letter III. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Xov. 13. 
 You informed me in your last, that your desires 
 for the work of the ministry had not at all abated. I 
 sincerely wish that they may be fulfilled, and that you 
 and I may be fellow-labourers in the Lord's vine- 
 yard. God certainly can do this for us ; let us pray 
 that he may. You still appear dubious of your own 
 ability for that important work : I would have you 
 consider, that God works by whom he will work. 
 He has many ministers in his church, real sent mi- 
 nisters, who have not those great gifts that distin- 
 guish many of his servants ; and not only so, but 
 these men have often been the means of doing more 
 good than those of great talents — and what is the 
 
32 LIFE OF SPENCER. rART r * 
 
 reason of this ? ' Even so, Father, for so it seemed 
 good in thy sight,' — is all that we must say. And 
 you, my worthy friend, should also remember, that 
 as yet, you cannot form any idea of your own abi- 
 lities. As I have often told you, when I lived with 
 you, I doubt not your abilities, when improved by 
 application to study, &c will be as fit for that eni- 
 ploy (if the will of God) as any other. God, you 
 know, in every thing- acts as a sovereign : * I will 
 work, and who shall let it,' is his language — will 
 work by the feeblest means, and the weakest instru- 
 ments. I hope you will still be kept low in your 
 own eyes, for that, I am sure, is one quality, or ra- 
 ther property, of a Gospel minister. At our best 
 estate we are altogether vanity, and less than no- 
 thing. May the Lord keep us all truly humble. 
 Luther used to say, there were three things made a 
 minister — affliction, meditation, and prayer ; that is, 
 sanctified affliction, scriptural meditation, and earn- 
 est prayer ; in which last particular I hope you are 
 perpetually engaged. Pray, my dear friend, for 
 direction of God — pray for grace, which is of more 
 value, by far, than great gifts, and say in the lan- 
 guage of resignation, hope, and faith — ■ Here am 
 J, Lord, send me to labour in thy vineyard.' You 
 have appealed to me in saying, * You well know, I 
 shall never rely on my own strength for success and 
 usefulness.' — I know you will not, (at least whilst in 
 your present mind) and I pray that God would keep 
 you still so determined. Let us then pray, that we 
 may both of us be made able, useful, and humble 
 ministers of the New Testament, 
 
 et 1 am glad to find, that you generally 
 
 hear three times a day. Young men, who wish to 
 be ministers, cannot hear too much of the Gospel, 
 provided they are anxious to improve on what they 
 do hear — ." 
 
chap, in, LIFE OF SPENCER. 3$ 
 
 I shall present the reader with nearly the whole 
 of the following letter ; and I think that few will be 
 found, on the perusal, who deem it unworthy of pre- 
 servation. It contains a pleasing, grateful (and the 
 more pleasing, as it is entirely uninfluenced) tribute 
 to the memory of departed worth — discloses the deep 
 attention and care with which, at that early age, he 
 was accustomed to hear and reflect upon sermons, 
 and shews how incessant was the panting of his heart 
 for the Christian ministry. 
 
 Letter IV. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Hertford, Nov. 18, 1805. 
 
 " My dearest Friend, 
 
 " I expected to have heard from 
 you before now, but as I have not, it becomes me to 
 bear the disappointment with fortitude and resolu- 
 tion, hoping that it will not be long before I have a 
 few lines from you. On Saturday last, I heard that 
 that good and worthy man, Mr. Winwood, was 
 dead. It will, I doubt not, be a great stroke to the 
 family ; but I am well assured, that to him death 
 was eternal gain. Truly, * the righteous hath hope 
 in his death.' May you and I both be found at the 
 last day on the right hand of the Judge with our 
 respected master ! While he is tuning his harp to 
 the praises of a precious Jesus, we have to combat 
 with many enemies ; we have many trials to pass 
 under 
 
 Before we reach the heavenly fields, 
 Or walk the golden streets !* 
 
 We shall, I am persuaded, feel our own depravity ia 
 
 • Alas ! lamented youth ! little, did he, or the friend to whom he 
 wrote, imagine how few his trials— how short his warfare wouid 
 
 c2 
 
34 LIFE OF SPENCER. part r. 
 
 many instances here below, ere we join with him in 
 everlasting songs above; but if we are enlisted under 
 the banners — the blood-stained banners of the cross, 
 we shall certainly arrive there. Let us then seek, 
 earnestly seek, after the one thing needful ; and 
 whilst earthly objects vanish and decay in our esti- 
 mation; nay, whilst the world dies daily in our view, 
 and its perishing things appear in their proper light 
 — may we feel our hearts panting after the wells of 
 salvation ; our souls, with all their faculties, engaged 
 in the noblest of all undertakings — our feet running 
 in the good ways of God — our tongues making 
 mention of his righteousness, and of his only — in 
 short, may we be crucified to the world — risen with 
 Christ — and transformed into his divine image and 
 likeness. This, I trust I can say, is my desire, and 
 I know it is the earnest wish of my dear friend. 
 
 " Sabbath-day, November 15,1 heard Mr. Mo- 
 rison,* at Cowbridge, in the morning, from I. Thes- 
 salonians, chap. v. ver. 8. ' But let us, who are of 
 the day, be sober, putting on the breastplate of 
 faith and love, and for an helmet the hope of salva- 
 tion.' He first shewed what was implied in Chris- 
 tians being of the day ; secondly, enforced the ex- 
 hortation of the text. To be of the day, he said, 
 implied — 1. a state of knowledge ; 2. safety : 3. com- 
 fort, &c. In enforcing the admonition, he exhorted 
 them to the exercise of faith and love ; gave them good 
 
 pxpvp — aud how soon the pious desire of his heart should be, as it 
 respected himself, fulfilled : but thus mysterious are the ways of God 
 * — Spencer is early summoned to his rest, but his companion is left, 
 still to maintain the conflict, whilst he mourns his loss — " then shall 
 two be in the field, the one shall be taken and the other left. 1 ' Mat. 
 .xxiv. 40. 
 
 • The present laborious and successful missionary at Canton, by 
 whose labours the whole of the New Testament is already trans- 
 lated into the language of China,, and circulating through that vast 
 
 janpirju. 
 
chap. nt. LIFE OP SPENCER; 35 
 
 grounds for hope ; and shewed lhat these three 
 graces had a tendency to comfort and strengthen 
 believers. In the afternoon, from Acts xvii. 30, 3L 
 * The times of this ignorance God winked at, but 
 now commandeth all men, every where, to repent, 
 because he hath appointed a day in which he will 
 judge the world in righteousness, by that man whom 
 he hath ordained, whereof he hath given assurance 
 unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the 
 dead.' He considered — 1. the certainty of a future 
 judgment; 2. the person of the judge; 3. the cir- 
 cumstances of the day ; 4. the necessity of repent- 
 ance inferred from the text. He, indeed, is a wor- 
 thy man, and appears well suited for a missionary. 
 
 In the evening £ heard Mr. L , at the Chapel, 
 
 from John, chap. iii. ver. 14. ' For as Moses lifted 
 up the serpent in the wilderness,' &c. He said many 
 good things, and is very earnest in the good cause. 
 Last Lord's day we had Mr. Morison again : text 
 in the morning, Hebrews, chap. vi. ver. 11. ' And 
 we desire that every one of you do shew the same 
 diligence to the full assurance of hope unto the end.' 
 He considered — 1. the thing mentioned — the full 
 assurance of hope ; 2. shewed that it might be at- 
 tained ; 3. exhorted them to diligence in aspiring 
 after it. Time and room forbid me to make any 
 remarks upon the sermon (which was a good one) 
 in the afternoon, from Acts, chap. xvi. ver. 9. 
 ' There stood a man of Macedonia and prayed him, 
 saying, Come over and help us.' In discoursing oa 
 it he shewed — 1. that the heathens want help,; %. 
 that it is the duty of ministers and people to give it 
 them ; and, 3. that men should exert themselves (or 
 the purpose. It appeared like a collection sermon; 
 and he went afterwards and got a little money of a 
 few friends at Hertford, for the mission to China, t 
 i " In the evening, having been previously invited, 
 I went" at six o'clock to Mr. K-— r^-\ to. see the 
 
36 * LIFE OF SPENCER. pabt r. 
 
 minister. I was there daring family worship ; and 
 after that Mr. Morisou and self went up stairs to 
 talk a little together. He asked me about my learn- 
 ing, Sec; then how long I had been seriously dis- 
 posed, Sec. He appeared satisfied with my answers, 
 and asked me if I was not going* into the country ; 
 I told him ' yes.' He asked me if I should have an 
 opportunity of attending to my books there. This 
 naturally led to the whole affair : he seemed glad, 
 and asked me if I designed to be a minister in this 
 country. I told him I wished to be quite resigned 
 to the will of Providence in that matter. He gave 
 me some good advice ; and then we knelt down, and 
 he engaged in a short and affectionate prayer. I 
 was much affected with the advice, conversation, 
 and prayer. 
 
 " I am sensible that your attachment to me 
 
 is as unshaken as ever. I hope you pray that both 
 of us may be made ministers of the Gospel ; and, in 
 some future day, have our wishes respecting that 
 completely fulfilled. I am very desirous that you 
 may be shortly placed hi a situation in which you 
 will have more leisure for reading, writing, study- 
 ing, &c. O that you were going with me to Har- 
 wich. Still continue to pray for one who feels his 
 own unworthiness for the service of Ins God, and 
 yet wishes to be an instrument of doing great good 
 to souls : and if I should not be very successfiil in 
 my ministry, me thinks it would be reward enough 
 to have laboured for God, and not to have been em- 
 ployed in the drudgery of Satan." 
 
 The next letter, to the same correspondent, con- 
 tains a specimen of his talent for the composition of 
 sermons at that age. It affords a pleasing proof of 
 
chap. in. life OF SPENCER. 37 
 
 his early skill in the practice of an art, in which he 
 eventually so much excelled. 
 
 Letter V. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Hertford, Bee. 3, 180,5. 
 
 " 1 have sent you my thoughts upon 
 
 (or rather my way of discussing) that text Mr. Knight 
 preached from. I hope your candour will excuse 
 imperfections. I never read any thing upon it, and 
 it is the production of a boy. 
 
 Matthew, chap. v. ver. 20. 
 " For I say unto you, That except your righ- 
 teousness shall exceed the righteousness of the 
 Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into 
 the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 GENERAL HEADS» 
 
 I. — Explain the nature of the righteous- 
 ness of the Scribes and Pharisees. 
 
 II. — Shew in what respects our righ- 
 teousness must exceed theirs. 
 
 III. — Notice the consequences of posses- 
 sing a righteousness no better than 
 theirs. 
 
 1st Head. — Explain the nature, &c. 
 
 It was self-righteousness. — Luke xviii. 9. 
 1st. — This righteousness is founded in ignorance 
 
 Of God's nature, 
 
 Of the spirituality of his law, 
 
 Of the deceitfulness of the heart, 
 
 And of the true method of salvation. 
 
88 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART « 
 
 2d Head.— Shew in what respects our 
 
 RLCHTEOUSNESS SHOULD EXCEED THEIRS. 
 The righteousness here termed ' yours,' is the 
 righteousness of Christ, which becomes ours by im- 
 putation, in the same manner as our sins became 
 Christ's. This righteousness thus becoming ours, 
 exceeds the righteousness of the Scribes and Pha- 
 risees, 
 
 1 st. — In its origin. It is divine — the other human, 
 or Satanic ; as we doubt not, Satan first infused 
 self-righteous thoughts into the minds of men, &c. 
 2d. — Its nature and particular properties. 
 This righteousness 
 
 Delivers us from bondage, 
 Saves us from sin, N 
 
 Gives us holiness of life, 
 Makes us victorious in death, 
 Joyful in judgment, and 
 Happy through all eternity. 
 The righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees 
 cannot do this. 
 
 But our Lord might also allude to that righteous- 
 ness which is implanted in us, as well as that which 
 is imputed to us, and that far exceeds the righteous- 
 ness of the Scribes and Pharisees in its effects, 
 which are real good works, which 
 Spring from a good motive, 
 Are directed to a good purpose, 
 And have a good end. 
 These works are not meritorious, but serve for 
 the justification of our faith, not of our persons, and 
 they far exceed the legal performances of the self- 
 righteous. 
 
 3d Head. — Notice the consequences of pos- 
 sessing A RIGHTEOUSNESS NO BETTER 
 THAN THEIRS. - 
 
 Ye shall in no case enter into, fyc. 
 
chaf.iU. LIFE OF SPENCER. 39 
 
 1st. — Here we must necessarily dwell a little upon 
 the nature of the kingdom of heaven. — Consider 
 
 1. The person of the king. 
 
 2. The happiness of the subjects. 
 
 3. The eternal duration of his reign, &c. 
 
 2d. — How dreadful a thing to he shut out of this 
 kingdom. 
 
 3d. — How peculiarly striking is the language of the 
 Saviour, Ye shall in no case, fyc. 
 Notwithstanding all your professions, long prayers, 
 
 alms-giving, &c. Ye shall in no case enter into the 
 
 kingdom of heaven. 
 
 From this subjective draw a few inferences. 
 
 1. — We learn Irom hence the evil nature of sin. 
 If all self- righteousness be so bad, what must 
 unrighteousness be I 
 
 2. — We here see the only true method of salvation — 
 the righteousness of Christ. 
 
 3. — How necessary is daily, serious self-examina- 
 tion, in order to ascertain to which class we 
 belong. 
 
 4. — We likewise infer the necessity of prayer, for 
 instruction and grace. 
 
 5. — How dreadful is the case of the self-righteous 
 character. 
 
 6. — The believer may hence drazv some comfort. He 
 is interested in Jesus Christ, and shall outride 
 all the storms and troubles of life, sing the 
 dear name of Jesus in the hour of death, and 
 stand unmoved amidst the jarring elements, 
 ' the wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.' 
 
 *' May the God of hope bless us both — fill us with 
 all joy and peace in believing — give us to see more 
 and more of the sinfulness of our nature — the de- 
 pravity of our hearts — the imperfection of our graces 
 — the smallness of our knowledge — the sufficiency 
 of Jesus — the stability of our hope— the fulness of 
 
40 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 
 
 Christ. May he give us to see that our names are 
 written in heaven ; — may he brighten up our evi- 
 dences for glory — establish our faith — enlarge our 
 desires — and give us hungerings and thirs tings after 
 righteousness. May we enjoy the blessings of sal- 
 vation — the sweetness of communion with God — ■ 
 the peace bought and purchased for us by Christ 
 Jesus — and that joy in the Holy Ghost, produced 
 by his influences — and may we learn more and more 
 of the heights, lengths, depths, and breadths of the 
 love which passeth knowledge. May we dwell to- 
 gether in that happy land, where none but the righ- 
 teous can enter, and where our worship shall be 
 undisturbed. 
 
 " And now, my dear brother, I commend you to 
 the hands of that God who doth all things well, and 
 who taketh care of those who put their trust in him; 
 and hoping soon to hear from you, I subscribe my- 
 self, . 
 " Your truly affectionate friend, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER.* 
 
 N. B. " Remember me to . Pray for 
 
 me, and may the Lord bless you. Amen e " 
 
 Letter VI. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Hertford, December 31, 1805. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " I think myself very happy in having 
 such a friend as you prove yourself to be. I knoAV 
 affection towards me is too deeply rooted in you ever 
 to be erased by separation. Life's greatest blessing 
 is a well chosen friend, and I do feel it so. You 
 cannot imagine (only by your own feelings) what 
 pleasure I take in recollecting past scenes, and re- 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 41 
 
 calling- to the mind occurrences relating only to us, 
 which never shall he forgotten, I hope we have the 
 same ' friend that sticketh closer than a brother.' 
 I am affected, peculiarly affected, when I read the 
 solemn confessions you make of depravity, &c. You 
 know Paul acknowledged himself the chief of sin- 
 ners. When, therefore, you are bowed down under 
 a sense of sin, look unto Jesus; there only salvation 
 is to be found for those who, like you, are sensible 
 of sin. But I verily believe my friend has already 
 been washed in the fountain of his blood. Yes, I 
 doubt not but you have passed from death unto life, 
 and are called according to God's eternal purpose ; 
 therefore, instead of writing bitter things against 
 yourself, rejoice in Christ Jesus, whilst you have no 
 confidence in the flesh. Ah! my friend, you know 
 not fully how I have lifted up my puny arm in rebel- 
 lion against God ; so that I cannot think myself a 
 whit behind the chief of sinners. Young as I am, 
 I am a great sinner; but blessed be God who has, 
 I hope, given us both a good hope through grace : 
 to him be all the glory, 
 
 " I shall, I expect, be in town a day sooner than 
 was intended, viz. Wednesday the 8th ; my father 
 
 will not come till the next day. Mr. F , in 
 
 his letter, mentions a desire that I would give them 
 a lecture (in the old way) at his house in the evening, 
 I am very willing to do it, and I hope we shall hav§ 
 your company." 
 
 His next letter is from Harwich, and contains a 
 pleasing disclosure of the state of his mind on the 
 accomplishment, so far, of his ardent wishes. 
 
4S LIFE OF SPENCER. 
 
 Letter VII. 
 
 TO Mil. HEWARD. 
 
 " Harwich, February 6, 1806. 
 
 04 My dearest Friend, 
 
 " I with pleasure embrace the op- 
 portunity which now offers itself of writing yon a few 
 lines for the first time since I have been here. While 
 I hope you enjoy your health, I can say I never was 
 better in my life than I have been since I have been 
 at Harwich. The air is very cold and healthy : I 
 am sure I have felt the difference. In the town 
 there are many inhabitants, and a Methodist place, 
 besides Mr. Hordles: by Methodists I mean Wes- 
 ley's people. Mr. Hordle preaches three times on 
 a Sabbath day, and is very well attended, and on 
 Wednesday evenings ; prayer meeting on Monday 
 night. I doubt not but you will join with me in 
 returning thanks to the all-wise disposer of events 
 for placing me in that comfortable situation which I 
 now fill. I live with Mr, H, entirely ; his study is 
 where I pursue my learning, and in an afternoon I 
 meet his boys (there are only nine) at his vestry, to 
 say a lesson or two with them. I learn Latin, Geo- 
 graphy, and have got a considerable way in Dodd- 
 ridge's Lectures on Pneumatology, in which now 
 and then I meet with a philosophical subject ; in- 
 deed, my dear friend, I really am very comfortable. 
 Oh that my improvement may keep pace with the 
 advantages I enjoy! 
 
 " But, my dearest friend, what a separation be- 
 tween us ! I often think of you when in this study 
 pursuing my learning : think, did I say V I cannot 
 help thinking of you, and I will cherish every ten- 
 der thought of a friend I so much love. Oft-times 
 I think that of an evening, when we are surround- 
 
<»af. m. LIFE OF SPENCER. 43 
 
 ing the family altar, you are engaged in the busy 
 concerns of life — whilst I am enjoying- the advan- 
 tages of a kind teacher, a- good library, and various 
 other blessing-Sj-you are behind the counter of a glove 
 shop. Yet do not despair. I hope we shall some 
 future day enjoy one another's company, and these 
 advantages connected with it. W nen I walk out, 
 as I in general do every day for exercise, 1 imagine 
 you to be here — I converse with you — I see you — 
 and fancy many other enjoyments, which perhaps 
 will not come so soon. When I last saw you, I 
 was exceedingly vexed that we could not have half 
 an hour together in private; but however, I know 
 you regard me still — and am sure I love you much ; 
 and it is some pleasure to think that we can yet pray 
 for one another. O do not forget me, unworthy as 
 1 am, in your approaches to the throne of grace. 
 Pray that I may not abuse my privileges; but that 
 whilst I am here it may be manifest that I am pos- 
 sessed of a principle of divine grace in my heart. 
 But I hope I need not mention this to you, for you 
 do, I trust, still remember me in your best moments, 
 I have not forgot the pleasure I experienced the 
 last time I saw you in London, nor the affectionate 
 manner in which you conversed with me from Mr, 
 
 F 's to my cousin's the last evening. 
 
 " I had a very tedious journey here, as I could not 
 sleep all night in the coach, But I think I am well 
 repaid, I did not imagine that I should be treated 
 with such care ; I have a nice little bed to 1113 self ; 
 and, in short, am surrounded with blessings. I take 
 some pleasure in contrasting my present situation 
 with what it was when at Mr, Thodey's ; but after 
 I have considered the peculiar advantages of this to 
 that, I find that there was one pleasure I enjoyed 
 there which I do not here — that of your company 
 and conversation ; and thus is life made up of hopes 
 and fears, pleasures and pains. May we be among 
 
44 LIFE OF SPENCER. tart i. 
 
 those who are * strangers and sojourners' here, 
 who seek a better country. 
 
 " The evening I generally employ in promiscuous 
 reading, as the time is then as it were my own. As 
 I come home from the vestry about an hour before 
 the other boys, from that time till tea I am engaged 
 in secret meditation, reading God's word, and 
 prayer to him. Ah ! Thomas, you arc then more 
 on my mind than during the other parts of the day, 
 for I cannot but remember how often you have 
 pressed on me the duty of private prayer ; and in- 
 deed, my friend, you are then most remembered by 
 me in the best sense. I do continue to pray for 
 you ; and I hope God will hear our petitions for 
 one another, and £5nd us answers of peace. I beg 
 of you, I entreat you to be earnest in supplication 
 for me, that if God has appointed me for the work 
 of the ministry, I may be fitted for it, and have a 
 divine blessing attending me in all I undertake. 
 
 " Mr. H. bids me write now and then the heads 
 of a sermon of my own, and shew it him. I have 
 yet only done one : it met his approbation. 
 
 •'Be so kind as remember me to Mr. F , 
 
 &c. &c. — I suppose you like your business as little 
 as ever; but I hope you will soon be put in a situ- 
 ation where you will enjoy yourself more — I mean 
 in the best enjoyments. I still hope that we, formed 
 for each other's comfort, shall yet be made blessings 
 to each other, and that in a particular way. Then 
 let the conceited, covetous worldling say, ' Friend- 
 ship is but a name' — we know it is something more 
 — itis a great blessing ; and where the friends have 
 grace in their hearts, it is so, eminently and espe- 
 cially. David and Jonathan found it so. I often 
 think of your noticing particularly that expression, 
 ' their souls were knit together.' Dr. Young 
 thought so when he said, ' poor is the friendless 
 master of a world.' I am thankful that I have had 
 
chap. in. LIFE OP SPENCER. 45 
 
 such a friend cast in my way that will be, I trust, a 
 blessing to me all through life, and that will dwell 
 with me in a better world. May the hope of that 
 happiness stimulate us to more resignation to the 
 divine will, and holy disdain of the vanities of time 
 and sense. 
 
 " And now, my dear friend, my letter draws to a 
 close ; I can scarcely forbear tears while I write it.. 
 I hope you will overlook its very visible imperfec- 
 tions, and remember that it comes from one that 
 loves you. Need I again beseech you to pray for 
 me, that I may find mercy of the Lord, be blessed 
 with every blessing here below, and crowned with 
 glory hereafter. 
 
 u Write me what religious intelligence you know 
 I am ignorant of: I see the Magazine here, and 
 
 other periodical works. And now I desire to 
 
 commit myself, my dear friend, and all our concerns, 
 into the hands of a covenant God ; and wishing you 
 every blessing, I rest your ever faithful and affec- 
 tionate friend, 
 
 ." THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Letter VIII. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Harwich, February 24, 1806. 
 
 " My dearest Friend, 
 
 " More than a fortnight ago, accord- 
 ing to agreement, I wrote to you; as [ have not heard 
 from you since that time, my mind is full of anxiety 
 on that account, as I know not what to assign as a 
 reason for it. I hope you received it, for I should 
 never like our correspondence to be investigated by 
 any body but ourselves. I hardly know how to write 
 this letter; whether I should inform you of circum- 
 
46 LIFE OP SFENCER. part;. 
 
 stances I mentioned in my last, (beingin doubt whether 
 you received it) or, taking for granted that you have 
 had it, shall I tenderly chide you for not answering 
 it. I cannot think you have either forgotten me or 
 are grown careless about me, and yet what can I say? 
 I am full of conjectures. Have you been so busy as 
 not to have time to write ; or have you written, put it 
 in the post, and the letter miscarried? I hope you 
 will write to me, and inform me which of these is the 
 real case. — Need I tell you again that I am peculiarly 
 comfortable in my situation, having nothing to render 
 me otherwise but the absence of my friend, and my 
 not having heard from him : nor from home either ; 
 for I wrote to my father, and I have not yet received 
 an answer, which I expected immediately ; indeed I 
 cannot at all account for these things.. 
 
 " I am very fond of Mr. H.'s preaching: we had 
 three very fine sermons yesterday, on Exodus, chap, 
 xxxiii. ver. 16; I. Corinthians, chap. iv. ver. 5; Ephe- 
 sians, chap. ii. ver. 8. I have just begun to enter 
 the heads of the sermons in a book. I am sure he 
 is like a father to me; I am indeed very well treated. 
 1 hope you are earnest in prayer, that God would 
 let you know his will concerning you. O, my friend, 
 I should think myself very happy if I coukl do any 
 thing for you. Although I do not speak to you 
 now, nor see jou, nor hear from you, yet I do feel 
 pleasure in praying for you. I never was better in 
 my life than since I have been at Harwich. A day 
 or two ago I began to learn Hebrew. I often think 
 you would be in your element in this study, with the 
 advantages of learning, &c. I begin now to have 
 a little idea of Geography; know more Latin than 
 before, and study every day Locke's Conduct of the 
 Understanding, and Doddridge's Lectures ; besides 
 a deal of cursory reading, &e. ; for here is a very 
 nice library, to which I have free access. I told 
 you in my last to let me have Mr. E 's ad- 
 
chap. in. LIFE OP SPENCER. 47 
 
 dress. Hope you will remember me to all our 
 
 friends. Give my respects to Mr. J. F and 
 
 T. E . As I do not remember any thing* else 
 
 that I have to say, I conclude with subscribing my- 
 self, yours, by all the tender ties of friendship, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Letter IX. 
 To MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Harwich, April 4, 1806. 
 
 " My dearest Friend, 
 
 " I received, with the greatest plea- 
 sure, your letter of the 29th of February, together 
 with my father's ; and, as I was sorry you did not 
 write to me before, so was I equally grieved at the 
 cause: I sympathize with you in your afflictions, 
 and hope that you are now quite recovered — and 
 the rest of the family. I believe you when you say 
 it affords you so much pleasure to hear of my wel- 
 fare. Oh ! Thomas, pray for me that my very com- 
 forts do not become snares. I should like to have 
 had more of the heads, texts, &c. of the sermons 
 you have heard in London ; and hope that you find 
 
 the ministry of Mr. K — and those you hear at 
 
 'Hoxton beneficial to your soul ; for it is my earnest 
 desire that, under the influences of the sacred Spi- 
 rit, your soul maybe like a well- watered garden. I 
 (of course) hear Mr. Hordle three times on the Sab- 
 bath day, and I think I can say it has been to my 
 profit : his sermons are indeed very judicious, expe- 
 rimental, and practical, and I find it to be just the 
 preaching I want. I keep a book in which I put 
 down the heads of most of his sermons, which, when 
 it is full, I intend, (if you would like) that you shall 
 see. I suppose of an evening- we have not less than 
 
48 LIFE OF SPENCER. parti. 
 
 four hundred and fifty people; in the day time not 
 quite so many. There is a band of singers in the 
 table pew, generally a bass viol is played, and Mr. 
 IT. preaches in a gown, and I think the people are 
 more attentive than any I ever saw. Once in a 
 fortnight Mr. H. preaches at the Work-house ; I 
 have been twice, and I like it very much. In the 
 week day I go to the Methodist chapel, and some- 
 times hear a good sermon there. I find by the Ma- 
 gazine that Mr. S is at Spa-fields chapel. 
 
 I have spoken often about him to you, and have 
 mentioned him in my letters (though by the bye I 
 spelt his name wrong). He is a Cheshunt student — 
 has preached very frequently at Hertford chapel. I 
 would advise you, if convenient, to go and hear him, 
 for he is a very bold and very faithful preacher. If 
 you do, give me a little account of the sermon, &c. 
 
 If I were you, I would try to hear Mr. B 's 
 
 missionary sermon. 
 
 " I am very glad that you informed me of Mr. 
 F.'s and W.'s conversation. I liked it all very 
 well, except that about my preaching, and indeed I 
 had much rather that Mr. F. had not mentioned that 
 for various reasons. If you have heard anymore, 
 pray tell it me. 
 
 ' He must not be put too forward. 1 
 
 " But you have raised my curiosity very much 
 about the certain minister, who has, unsolicitedly, 
 offered you his recommendation for Hoxton. But 
 why this reservedness? I shall expect a friendly, 
 satisfactory reason for your not telling me his name, 
 &c. Do you think that I would abuse- your confi- 
 dence ? I hope not, — I think I should know better. 
 As the month is expired, you must tell in your next 
 more about it, as whether you have seen this certain 
 minister? "What he said to you, &c. &c? I hope 
 I have obeyed your request, and prayed for you; 
 may God grant us both more of a praying spirit, and 
 
chap in LIFE OP SPENCER. 49 
 
 may he answer our petitions, one for another. I 
 thank you for Mr. E.'s address. I have not yet 
 wrote to him — must — though Thomas, I think now 
 I should be completely unhappy, were I again to 
 have any thing to do with business; and I feel for 
 you, as you say your time is wholly taken up in it 
 everyday from six in the ■■ morning to eleven at night. 
 I hope that while your aversion to the cares of the 
 world increases, your spiritual affections are more 
 animated, and your whole soul, from day to day, 
 transformed more into the likeness of our lovely 
 Jesus. 
 
 1 The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man 
 availeth much.' — You seem peculiarly pleased with 
 this passage, observe therefore, 
 1st. — Thait it is the righteous God regards; — those 
 who are redeemed by the Son's blood; — loved 
 by the Father's grace; — sanctified by the Spi- 
 rit's influence.— Those who are weaned from 
 the vanities of earth and time, — whose affec- 
 tions are set on things above; — in a word, who 
 are born of God, and bound for heaven. 
 2d. — That they must pray.— -Prayer is the breath of 
 the new-born soul, a believer cannot live with- 
 out it, for 
 
 4 Prayer makes the darken'd cloud withdraw i 
 
 1 Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw ; 
 
 ' Gives exercise to faith and love, 
 
 * And brings down blessings from above.' 
 
 Newtom. 
 
 3d. — They must pray fervently. * Cold prayers/ 
 saith one, '* do but beg a denial.' In vain we 
 offer up lifeless devotion to a heart- searching 
 and-rein-to^ing God. 
 
 4th. — These prayers are effectual, and avail much ; 
 they avail much in the sanctifying of our souls, 
 and 'forming Christ there. 
 " Pardon this digression, as these thoughts ha-¥© 
 
 just sprung from my own mind. 
 
 D 
 
50 LIFE OP SFEKCEfc. *ti*f*< 
 
 " I hope you continue to enjoy your Sabbaths 
 more than ever. How delightful it is ! to dwell m 
 the house of the Lord all the d?.ys of our life, to be- 
 hold the beauty of the Lord, and enquire in his tem- 
 ple.'— That was Mr. H.'s text last Sabbath day 
 morning and afternoon. In the morning- he applied 
 it to the church here below ; showed what was meant 
 by beholding the beauty of the Lord, and enquiring 
 in his temple, and how desirable it was f &c. In the 
 afternoon, he applied all (with the greatest propri- 
 ety) to heaven. Two very excellent sermons. 
 
 " I cannot yet give up the thought that we shall 
 soon live together again ; if we are to be so fa- 
 voured, how^ thankful should I be: if not, we must 
 learn to know no will but God's, and acknowledge 
 that the Judge of all the earth will do right. As 
 yet let us not despair, but commit all our concerns 
 into the hands of our covenant God, and heavenly 
 Father. We know he will do all things well. My 
 situation is as comfortable, or more so, than ever; 
 and I am considered like one of the family. We 
 have a nice house, and here are only Mr. H., Mrs. 
 H.,the little child about eight months old — a sweet 
 babe he is,— the servant, and myself. I read Virgil 
 in Latin now, and what I do learn of any thing 
 serves to shew me more of my ignorance. May 
 the Lord keep me humble. I have theological 
 questions to study* such as, 
 
 ' Wherein appears the possibility of a divine 
 revelation I 
 
 " W hy is it desirable* &c? 
 
 " I may consult books upon the subject, and here 
 is a very good library. You will not forget your 
 promise to write in your next about grace thriving 
 in your heart. As for me, it is with tardy steps I 
 creep, sometimes joying, and sometimes sorrowing. 
 And yet without boasting, I think I can say I have 
 known more of heart religion since I have been 
 
cn-AP.in. life OF SPENCER. 51 
 
 here than before ; but it is very little altogether. I 
 have experienced many happy moments in secret, 
 such times as remind me of our last Sabbath after- 
 noon together. But O ! what a deal of pride, re- 
 bellion, carelessness, and all kinds of wickedness is 
 there in my heart; I tremble to think ^of what I 
 -deserve for my former levity, &c. — But O pray for 
 me that I may find grace in the eyes of the Lord, 
 and live to some purpose in the world. I am afraid 
 that there are yet improper motives in my desiring 
 the work of the ministry. Since 1 have been here 
 I have seen some little of its nature, &c. I am sen- 
 sible that no learning, or human qualifications, are 
 enough to fit me for that all-important work; and I 
 hope, that God will pour down showers of grace on 
 me, instead of what I deserve, '< vials of wrath.' 
 When you give me a little account of your " growth 
 in grace," and how the lamp of religion keeps alive, 
 I hope you will retrace some of the paths in which 
 the Lord your God has led you, and tell me some- 
 thing of your former experience, present enjoyments, 
 and future hope. If you wish to go on from one 
 degree of grace unto another, which I do not doubt, 
 commune much with your own heart, read the bible 
 as much as possible, and above all things, pray 
 J'ervently.—\ am perfectly well in health, as I hope 
 you are. Wishing you every spiritual blessing, I 
 remain your affectionate and faithful friend, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Letter X. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 "Harwich, May 9, 1806. 
 
 4i My dear Friend, 
 
 " I received your two last letters 
 -with great pleasure. It is highly gratifying to m# 
 
53 LIFE OF SPENCER. »**" i. 
 
 to discover a great, and I believe a growing- attach- 
 ment in you towards your friend, notwithstanding 
 he is so far from you. In your letter of the 7th 
 April you say you%ather expected a gentle reproof 
 from me for your not writing to me ; if so, what 
 ought I to expect from you I But knowing the 
 kindness of your heart, I forbear any more upou 
 that subject. I was glad to hear of your comfort- 
 able interview with your friends at Coggeshall, and 
 like your method well of consulting with your father 
 on these occasions. Let us always manifest an 
 obedient and dutiful regard to the advice of our 
 parents ; they, you know, are older than we, and 
 more experienced: and the light of nature, as well 
 as that of divine revelation, enjoins us to love, reve- 
 rence, and obey them. I should not have expected 
 
 that would have acted so generously and 
 
 friendly as it appears he has done. I think from 
 these circumstances there appears (something like) 
 the kind hand of Providence, and I hope it will 
 appear so to your satisfaction by and bye. I wait 
 with anxiety the result of your intended interview 
 
 with the Rev. , of Chelmsford, and I need riot 
 
 tell you to make it a matter of prayer ; you know full 
 well the importance, necessity, and power, of the 
 prayer of faith. Your cousin Ford should remem- 
 ber that if the turnpike road is got too bad for peo- 
 ple to walk comfortably in, the Ji elds are more plea- 
 sant, as well as much nearer. How different are 
 the views of good people, even in the most trifling 
 things. When we get to heaven, there will be an 
 end of all differences in sentiment and disposition. 
 But I would not have you imagine that I (now) pre- 
 fer Hoxton only on the account of its pleasantness, 
 and the orthodox views of its supporters; but I 
 would wish myself, and would have you follow, the 
 leadings of Providence in this, as well as every other 
 respect : if it appear the divine will for you to go to 
 
chap. m. LIFE OF SPENCER. 53 
 
 Homerton, by all means go ; but if not, you of 
 course will not. However, you may be sure of on© 
 thing-, and that is, that your friend will love you 
 none the less for your preference of Homerton. But 
 I do think that Hoxton will be the place for yow. 
 In your letter you have the remarkable words, * I 
 do not remember that I promised an account of my 
 own experience as to growth in grace.' Now per- 
 haps you did not mean so in the letter referred to, 
 but I understood it so. Your words were, * I had 
 a great deal to write of, I mean the best things, as, 
 How grace thrives in the heart, &c. which I hope 
 to question and write of in my next/ Now here by 
 the word question I of course thought you meant 
 me, by writing of it, some account of yourself. But 
 it appears it was not so ; and now I confess if it 
 was not so designed, I do not know your meaning. 
 I have been particular iu stating this, in order to 
 prevent mistakes, I hope with you, that in your 
 present situation you are learning lessons that will 
 be beneficial to you all through life. I hope 
 you will see more and more of the vanity of the 
 pursuits of time and sense, and be more and more 
 separated from a world lying in wickedness, as that 
 is a good evidence of having found grace in the 
 sight of the Lord. I perceive by your expressions 
 that you are fired with zeal. I hope it is according 
 to knowledge, and that you are not venturing upon 
 what you may repent of in some future day. To 
 say my own thoughts, I do not think you are influ- 
 enced by any wrong motives. I am pleased with 
 your self-dedication to God ; and I heartily wish 
 that he may hear all your prayers, bless you with an 
 increase of grace and gifts, if he think fit ; but he 
 that has the most grace makes the best minister, and 
 will rise to glory, honour, and immortality, at. last, 
 and shall shine as the stars in the firmament, and be 
 for ever blest; whilst the ungodly minister (O awful 
 
54 LIFE OF SPENCER. WK * »• 
 
 thought !) shall have his portion with hypocrites and 
 unbelievers, shall be banished from the presence of 
 the Lord, and be cast into outer darkness, the 
 smoke of his torments ascending up for ever and 
 ever. I wish you could see Brown's Address to 
 his Students in Divinity, which is prefixed to his 
 View of Beligion (an excellent body of divinity.) 
 "You would there see something of the import of 
 being a minister of the Gospel. Oh! my friend, it 
 made me exclaim, * who is sufficient for these 
 things !' 
 
 " There is certainly a great pleasure in receiving 
 letters, and writing to each other; you and I expe- 
 rience this, don't we? Indeed you dwell much on 
 my mind. I think if we were to see each other 
 again, and have a little good conversation, it would 
 be like • cold water to a thirsty soul;' it would re- 
 fresh as, and call into more lively exercise our warm 
 sensations of affection. What a blessing it is, I 
 often think, that we ever met together. I am very 
 glad that I ever lived at Mr. Thodey's; I there met 
 with a worthy friend when I had none, learned a few 
 lessons I was ignorant ofj and was introduced (in 
 some measure by being there) to Mr. Wilson. Now 
 it is true we are far from each other, but what then I 
 Yen are pleased, I know, at my little improvement 
 in knowledge ; and you, I hope, are about entering- 
 upon the ministerial office ; and when I think of that 
 I also am highly pleased. A few weeks more, and 
 something will be done for you. I have often told 
 you, both in conversation and correspondence, not 
 to be discouraged at a view of your own insuffi- 
 ciency; and you know, God has chosen the foolish 
 things to confound the wise, and he works by means 
 that prove his sovereign hand. But I must hint 
 that your low views of yourself will do you no harm, 
 Go on to despise the world and all the enchanting 
 allurements it holds out; and be vigilant, for the 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 55 
 
 adversary of whom you speak is never idle. How 
 does he tempt us to think lightly of religion — to 
 foolish and unedifijing conversation — to offer up 
 shorty cold, and careless prayers, and I know not 
 what beside. Fray, then, that while Satan is at- 
 tempting to damp, nay quench, the rising flame, the 
 Hoi) Spirit may pour in plentifully the oil of grace, 
 and cause it to rise to all eternity. — You, I hope, 
 do not intend to Hatter me (for friends should never 
 Matter, and I hate it) when you say, you think I am 
 fitting for some active elevated sphere in the cause 
 of Christ. Ah! Thomas, you do not see how un- 
 worthy I am to be a door-keeper in the house of my 
 God, as I do, much less fill some elevated station. 
 And indeed did I possess the wisdom of Solomon, 
 the learning of Paul, and the eloquence of Apollos, 
 without their piety, what am 1 1 — * Like sounding 
 brass, or a tinkling cymbal.' I feel my need of 
 divine grace, without which I am less than nothing, 
 and can do nothing. What a dreadful thing must 
 it be to have our parents, teachers, seminaries, gifts, 
 examples, our bibles, books, instructions, vows and 
 resolutions, prayers and sermons, all rise up in 
 judgment against its! The thoughts of it are 
 enough to make our blood run cold. May the glo- 
 rious and gracious God forbid such a doom for Jesus 
 Christ's sake. To this I know you will say * Amen.' 
 On the other hand, how glorious must be the lot of 
 the' faithful sent minister of the Gospel : methinks I 
 see him rising (at the judgment day) from the long 
 sleep of death, with a smile of holy pleasure on his 
 sacred countenance, and heavenly glory in his soul. 
 I see him approach the tribunal of his reconciled 
 Judge, and having the pardon of all his sins made 
 manifest before an assembled world, with a goodly 
 number of seals to his ministry, he exclaims in the 
 language of holy gratitude, peace, and triumph, 
 i Here am I, Father, and the children thou hast 
 
56 LIFE OF spencer; mtmtm 
 
 given me!' O may such blessedness be yours and 
 mine : this- will ten thousand times more than com- 
 pensate for the troubles and trials met with in the 
 ministry. Amen, saith your longing soul; 
 
 "Saturday,, May 10. — With respect to the work 
 of grace on my own heart, I feel shy to say much 
 about it, fearing lest after all my profession I 
 should become a cast-away, and the root of the 
 matter not be in me. I feel such a lifeless frame of 
 mind, such coldness in prayer, in short, . I indeed 
 think, that I have more evidences of reigning sin 
 than of the life of religion. I wish to ■ read my title 
 clear to mansions in the skies/ I wish to be more 
 Christ-like, more heavenly and spiritual ; but I can 
 only say with David, ' My soul lies cleaving to the 
 dust, quicken thou me according to thy word/ I' 
 would fain believe ; my God help and subdue my 
 unbelief. I dare not say any thing, but hope and 
 trust at present, ^ nay hardly that, i©r I 4 oftea feel 
 such a gloom upon my mind that you cannot con- 
 ceive of. I think it is wrong to give way to it, and 
 1 fear: if I did I should become quite melancholy. 
 One reason is, that I want my friend, and feel his 
 loss. If you were here, how could we relax our 
 minds from study by a pleasant walk and agreeable- 
 conversation. When I walk out (if Mr. Hordle is 
 not with me) there is no person whose company I 
 much value. Sometimes one of the boys that Mr.. 
 Hordle teaches is with me ; but I believe he had 
 rather be at play than conversing about any thing 
 that would do him good ; and really I have walked 
 so much alone lately that it gets quite insipid.. 
 When I first canje, I enjoyed my solitary walks 
 much better than I do now — what is the reason ? I 
 cannot tell : it is, however, one great comfort that 
 I am so well provided for. Mr. and Mrs. H. had 
 an only child, but eight months old, I think the 
 most beautiful and lovely boy I ever saw : his smiles . 
 
chap. itr. L | FB OF sPfiNCEft; 37 
 
 had often filled our hearts with joy, and the openings 
 of his infant mind were delightful as the blossoms in 
 spring. Though so young, he j knew very well I 
 loved him, and I know he was very fond of me — so 
 pleased on my return after I have been out, and so 
 very sensible for a child of his age. When I wrote 
 you last he lay very ill, and I believe died the day 
 after* His death grieved me very much, and I 
 could not study for some time ; but it is a comfort 
 to reflect 'that he is now present with the Lord, and 
 for ever blest. But what a trial to lose him! I 
 felt much for his parents, who doated on him; and 
 I confess I never loved a child as I did him. — I 
 think if we were to live together again, how happy 
 we should be: I mean where we could pursue our 
 studies together. If you are at Hoxton when I 
 am, I hope we shall be in the same class. I should 
 like you to go in just before me, or when I do, that 
 so I might not be quite a stranger in the house, and 
 have no one there that I know, for that would be 
 very uncomfortable. You and I used to interest 
 ourselves very much in the case of the highwayman 
 that broke out of Hertford jail, and passed for a 
 serious man. My father informed me that he has 
 been taken in his old courses, and hung a little 
 while ago at Lancaster, an awful instance of hypo- 
 crisy and deceit. I read in a newspaper, that he 
 gave a paper there to the church minister, in which 
 he said, that he had broke open fifty houses, stole 
 thirty horses, and committed more highway robberies 
 than his memory could recollect. With respect to 
 joining a church, I think it is your duty, as you 
 therein give yourself up to God in solemn dedica- 
 cation — make a more open profession of his Gospel, 
 and declare yourself on the Lord's side. Join that 
 church, (be which it will) where you enjoy much 
 under the ministry, where you have often received 
 d2 
 
OS LIFE OF SPENCER. PA " * 
 
 spiritual nourishment for your immortal soul. I 
 think you will do wrong if you do not join God's 
 people in that manner, for it is an incumbent duty. 
 Your going- to Hoxton would not make any dif- 
 ference, for the students there sit down at the dif- 
 ferent places in London — some at Hoxton chapel 
 — some at Mr. Brooksbank's — some at Mr. Clay- 
 ton's, and in short, wherever they have been mem- 
 bers before, or where the minister admits them as 
 occasional communicants, For myself, I cannot 
 yet think of doing it. I am glad you are reading 
 Halvburton's life, and hope you will find it pro- 
 fitable. 
 
 " Questions lately studied. — * What perfections 
 dwell in God, and how do you prove them to be in 
 him, without referring to tbe scriptures !' 
 
 " * How do you prove that the scriptures are the 
 word of God ?'• 
 
 " ■ How do we know that the scriptures have 
 been faithfully conveyed to us, and not corrupted V 
 
 " I have not heard any thing of Samuel for these 
 two letters; hope he is well. Make my best re- 
 spects to him. And now, commending you to our 
 glorious Saviour, and hoping that one day it will 
 appear more particularly, that we were designed 
 for great blessings to each other, I remain, 
 
 " Your affectionate and faithful friend, 
 
 « THOMAS SPENCER," 
 
 Letter XL 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Harwich, June 14, 1806. 
 
 " My dearest Friend, 
 
 " I received your parcel the morning 
 after you sent it, and read your letter with the 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 59 
 
 greatest pleasure. You judge rightly when you 
 say, you suppose that I was anxiously waiting to 
 hear from you. The providential dealings of God 
 with you have (I hope) tilled me with wonder and 
 praise. Surely both of us have great reason to say, 
 f Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within 
 me bless his holy name.' Let us not forget any of 
 his benefits, but for these displays of his goodness, 
 dedicate our bodies and souls to his glory, which is 
 only our reasonable service. Let us both rejoice, 
 that. God has put this treasure in earthen vessels, 
 that the excellency of the power may be of God, 
 and not of mam Little did you expect a few years 
 agOj that you should be providentially called into 
 the work of the ministry ; but now you can rejoice, 
 that unto you, who, in your' awn view., are less than 
 the least of all the saints, is this grace given, that 
 you might preach among poor sinners the unsearch- 
 able riches of Christ. Observe now the dealings of 
 Providence in this circumstance. You are in a 
 waiting frame, and when so, God appears to grant 
 you the desire of your heart. He hath now made 
 your path clear before you, and as to its being the 
 call of God, I have not the least doubt ; but how- 
 ,ever, I hope you will recollect, that though your 
 way has been thus shewn to you, it may not always 
 be so ; difficulties, great and many, may await us 
 both in our journey through life; but pod lias sajd, 
 when thou passest through the waters, I wijl be 
 with thee, and will prevent the floods from over- 
 ilowing thee. Having 1 such promises as these, my 
 dear friend, let us press forward, and with holy 
 resignation say, * Where he appoints I'll go and 
 dwell.' Tis true, we know not what a day may 
 bring forth,; but this we know, that God will never 
 forsake those who, put their trusj; in him, but will 
 be their sun to illumine them, their shield to defend 
 them, and their God eternally to bless them. I do 
 
60 LIFE OF SPEWER. PART r - 
 
 not at all wonder at your being perplexed in your 
 
 mind about mentioning matters to . Had I 
 
 been in your state, I should have dreaded it: but 
 you did well in making it a matter of prayer before 
 God, and God was very gracious in ordering it as 
 he has done. . You know that prayer to God is the 
 best way of making things sure — so you, I trust, 
 have found it. I should :like to know, the other 
 circumstances at which you hint, but I dare say 
 they are too tedious to mention; perhaps we may 
 see each other soon, when conversa tion, will settle it^ 
 I am much pleased, nay delighted, with the conver- 
 sation you had with Mr. W. He is, I doubt not, 
 a warm friend to the cause of Christ, and does all 
 he possibly can to forward it in the world. I am 
 like him in regard to zealous and earnest preachers, 
 and like to see animation and life in a pulpit; and 
 where the preacher's mind is fettered with notes 
 there can be none. You know I thought, when I 
 
 lived with you, that and , were good sort 
 
 of men ; they would not do any harm, .but wanted to 
 see something of their growing usefulness. I don't 
 doubt but I shall soon have a letter from you, dated 
 Hoxton Academy, ,&c. ; and I wish .we may be 
 there together, for it will be very awkward for you 
 or meat first to go there, when there is nobody we 
 know. I wish we might be in the "same class, &c. 
 so thtft we might, be helpers to one another, and 
 shew that we are the servants of the living God. I 
 know that Mr. H. writes to Mr. W. about me. I 
 know I am, as Mr. W. says, young and inexpe- 
 rienced; but I want divine grace, &c. to strengthen 
 me for every duty, and : prepare me for every trial. 
 But, however, I don't think that Mr. T. knows any 
 thing about the time when; I shall be admitted. 
 Though I did not mention it in, my last, yet I do not 
 
 think Mr. 's is a proper church for you to 
 
 join as a student ; when considered as a Christian, . 
 
chap. in. life OF "SPENCER. 61 
 
 merely, it would do very well ; but as now you are 
 to consider yourself as about entering the work of 
 the ministry, it alters the case. I never heard Mr. 
 
 , therefore know nothing" of him, or his church; 
 
 but Mr. B. I have heard more than once or twice ; 
 and if I were to recommend any church that I know 
 in London as proper for you to join, it should be 
 his. I have often thought that I should like to sit 
 under him myself. Concerning your religious ex- 
 perience — doctrinal sentiments — and ministerial mo- 
 tives* — I should rather think that your own plan, 
 however simple, would be much better than any I 
 can prescribe ; but as you know most of my tenets 
 pretty well, I do not know that I shall now write a 
 confession, but will here give you a few directions 
 only, which, if you like, you can adopt, but if not, 
 discard them totally. In your religious experience, 
 I would observe the order of time, state when you 
 first received serious impressions, how they were 
 fastened on your mind, what effect they had on your 
 conduct, &c. in your own way. In your doctrinal 
 sentiments, begin with the object of worship — God. 
 State your views of the persons in the Godhead: 
 quote scripture to prove your ideas of the trinity. . 
 Then about man, his creation, fall, ruin, recovery, 
 and so on. Be particular in saying, there is no sal- 
 vation but in Christ. Speak your opinion of the 
 influences of the Spirit, the efficacy of divine grace 
 in the conversion of sinners. The dealings of God 
 with his people^ The doctrines of election, perse- 
 verance, &c. Then that you think (if you do) that 
 it is the duty of all men to believe the Gospel (I 
 believe it.) That God will soon judge the world. . 
 That sinners will be sent to hell, and saints taken 
 to heaven and glory, &c. &c. I have read Mr, 
 
 • Referring to that summary of his views on these points, which, 
 as a candidate for admission into Hoxton Academy, his friend was .- 
 about to present to the committee of that institution. 
 
<>2 LIFE OF SPENCEK, parti. 
 
 H 's piece againstC.,and I b\ no means approve 
 
 of it. He evidently has written on a subject for 
 which he is by no means capable, for he does not at 
 all understand the difference between natural and 
 moral inability — on which my mind has lately been 
 much employed, and about which Mr. Hordle and I 
 have conversed. There have been two pieces about 
 it in some of the last numbers of the Evangelical 
 Magazine. Now, naturid or physical inability is 
 such as a man feels who, we'll suppose, is quite 
 blind, when another tells him to open his eyes. 
 Now this is naturally impossible. Moral inability 
 is such as a man feels if he is told, for instance, to 
 come to Harwich. He says, I am very busy, and 
 indeed I can't come : now we know he might come 
 if he zcould. He has power to walk to the coach * 
 &c, but his cannot is his zcill not. Now, which of 
 these two is the inability of sinners to come to 
 Christ? Pause here a moment, and think. I once 
 was almost ready to suppose, it was like that of a 
 blind man to open his eyes ; but if so, why does 
 God command him to see? Why does he feel 
 remorse that he has not clone so on his death-bed, 
 or at other times? He knows he might have done 
 otherwise if he would. The swearer may forbear 
 to take God's name, if he will: can he not? If 
 not, why will not God hold him guiltless ? Their 
 defect is then not natural, but moral: that is, it is 
 a defect in the will, which nothing- but grace can 
 remedy. Now, then, I am well convinced with Mr. 
 C, that the defect is not natural, but moral— what 
 think yon I Perhaps you never thought much on 
 the subject. I would advise you to read a little 
 
 tract of Moseley's on the subject. N o w Mr. H: 
 
 does not understand this distinction, but supposes, 
 by saying it is not natural, we mean, that it is not 
 -common to all, or universal : now we. know it is,, 
 and that in this sense it is not natural; but had 
 
cnAr.ni. LIFE OF SPENCER. 63 
 
 Mr. C. used the word physical, or explained his 
 meaning a little, perhaps he would not have heen 
 
 attacked by an Antinomian. 
 
 " I am very glad you sent the Youths' Maga- 
 zines : I like them very well. I am very sorry that 
 you were not at prayer meeting in time ; but I 
 attach not the least blame to you, because of your 
 hard work on Saturday, and so late. I think tbere 
 is generally something to embitter our comforts a 
 little. I should also have rather heard that you 
 were very happy in the time of prayer, than that 
 you were very uncomfortable; but don't be cast 
 down. Mr. W. encourages you ; your friends do 
 the same ; and God appears to be on your side : 
 and you know, if he is for you, none can prevail 
 against you. I am confident, that as God sends 
 you into the work of the ministry, he will give you 
 abilities sufficient. — Trust, then, in him — pray to 
 him — be humble — be resigned — and I do hope you 
 will experience divine consolations, heavenly sup- 
 port, and abilities sufficient. The preaching at the 
 poor-house pleased me much; your text was very 
 appropriate, and there is something in the nature of 
 the Gospel which is peculiarly adapted to the poor. 
 Now there does not seem any congruity between a 
 fine chapel, very elegant and grand, with carriages 
 at the door for the hearers, and the doctrines of the 
 meek and lowly Jesus. This does not, I say, ap- 
 pear fit; and the Gospel was originally preached to 
 the poor. I am glad you was not embarrassed at 
 all, and hope you will be the means of doing much 
 good. Get your subject well into your mind for 
 Mr. K.'s room ; think of how you shall arrange it, 
 &c. as Mr. W. told you. Tell me in your next 
 your plan, heads, &c, and whether you use notes 
 or no. If you think you cannot do without short 
 ones, use them; but do not slavishly attend to 
 them. I think you had better work it well into 
 
64 LIFE OF SPENCER*'- parti. 
 
 your mind first, and then deliver it extempore, or 
 without notes. Don't be too delicate, or mind too 
 much the smells of rooms r and so on ; but consider 
 him who endured all kinds of hardships, lest you 
 be weary, and faint in your mind. I find I must 
 not expect to hear from you till after your exami- 
 nation in July : well, let me have the more when 
 you do send. About the logical definition, I shall 
 say no more ; only that I think you are very much 
 mistaken when you imagine that I increase so much 
 in knowledge, for I really do not think I do so 
 much as I ought; indeed these blundering letters 
 are evidences of it, . so pray don't flatter. I did 
 write a little in my last about my present experi- 
 ence, I believe, because I thought it was what you 
 wanted. You say it is not quite possible to recol- 
 lect all one has written in a former letter : I say, I 
 know it is quite impossible. You say you should 
 like to see the answers to the questions which I 
 sent you ; having room, I will transcribe some of 
 them for you. 
 
 "~ Question. — ''How do you prove the existence 
 of a God, without referring to the scriptures, or 
 from the light of nature V 
 
 " Answer. — ■ (1st) All nations, Heathens, Jews, 
 Mahometans, and Christians, harmoniously consent 
 that there is a God, .who created, preserves, and 
 governs the world.' 
 
 " ' (2d) There is a great impression of Deity on 
 the mind of every man; that is, an indistinct idea 
 of his being, and a readiness to acquiesce in the 
 truth of his existence.' 
 
 " ' (3d) The works of creation demonstrate it ; 
 their alterations and dependence prove them not to 
 have been from eternity — they could not form them- 
 selves — chance could not produce them — matter 
 cannot change its own form, or produce life or. 
 reason.; therefore there must be a God.- 
 
<*hap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 65 
 
 " ' (4th) It is agreed from the support and go- 
 vernment of the world : — the heavenly bodies — sea- 
 sons — weather — vegetables — sagacity and instinct 
 of animals — herbs, &c.' 
 
 " '(5th) From the punishments which have been 
 inflicted* on nations and persons for r their excessive 
 immoralities.' 
 
 * ' (6th) From the terror and dread which 
 wound men's consciences when guilty of crimes 
 which other men do not know, or are not able to 
 punish or restrain, as in the case of Nero, Domi- 
 tian, and others, and that, too, when they laboured 
 to persuade themselves and others that there was 
 no God, &c. — See Brown, Doddridge's Lectures, 
 Ridgley, Buck's Dictionary, fyc. 
 
 " Question. — ' How do. you; prove that the scrip- 
 tures have been faithfully conveyed to us V 
 
 " Answer.—' In translations those books retain 
 manifest marks of their Eastern original.' 
 
 " Notwithstanding all thatChrist and his apostles 
 inveighed against the wickedness of the Jews, they 
 never charged them with corrupting a single text 
 in the bible. The various sects among the Jews, 
 viz. Pharisees, . Sadducees, &c. have rendered it 
 impossible that they could corrupt them, as well as 
 the animosities which have ever since prevailed 
 between the Jews and Christians, so that neither of 
 them could : vitiate these sacred oracles, . without 
 being shamefully detected.: Had the Jewsattempted 
 to corrupt these sacred books, it worfd certainly 
 have been in those passages in which the tearful 
 wickedness of their nation is described, and Jesus 
 Christ magnified and honoured; but in none o£ 
 them do we find the least mark of concealment or 
 corruption. That they should be corrupted among 
 Christians, is equally incredible : such was the mul- 
 titude of copies, hearers, readers, and even sects, 
 among them, that it is impossible they should ever 
 
1)0 LIFE OF SPENCER. part i. 
 
 have succeeded. Through the errors of transcribers, 
 Svc. the comparer of a multitude of copies cannot 
 fail to find a number of translations.' — See Browns 
 Vieze of Religion. 
 
 '- Question. — « What proofs have you that man 
 was at first created righteous and holy V 
 
 " Answer. — * (1st) Universal tradition, — for all 
 nations have supposed mankind to have once been 
 in a holy and happy state.' 
 
 " ' (2d) The nature of things, — for it seems very 
 improbable that so holy and so good a God should 
 have formed mankind, in the original constitution 
 of their nature, in so corrupt and sinful a state/ 
 
 " ? (3d) The natural resemblance men have to 
 Ood in the spirituality, intelligence, and immortality 
 of their souls. — Genesis, chap. ix. ver. 6.; Janies^ 
 chap. iii. ver. 9.' 
 
 " * (4th) The express declarations of scripture ? 
 - — Ecclesiastes, chap. vii. ver. 29. ; Genesis, chap. 
 i. ver. 26 and 27. ; Colossians, chap. iii. ver. 10. ; 
 Ephesians, chap. iv. ver. 24.' 
 
 " These will bow serve you for further meditat- 
 ing on, as well as the subject of natural and moral 
 inability ; your opinion of which I shall expect in 
 your next letter. If you can, I would advise you 
 to getMoseley's piece, or read attentively the pieces 
 in the Magazine; one of them is a letter from Dr. 
 Watts,— I told Mr. Hordle about your .present 
 prospects ; I did not see any occasion to secret it, 
 as Mr. W. knows it, and so many others : he is 
 pleased on the account of it. I have spoken to Mr. 
 H. about Brown's View of Religion, and he says 
 it is quite at your service : I shall enclose it, and 
 hope you will read it attentively through—be sure 
 you read the Address to Students, at the beginning; 
 when you have done with it, (he will not mind your 
 keeping it a month or more) send it by coach. In 
 it you wiij find a whole body of divinity in a very 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 67 
 
 little compass. The part on the light and law of 
 nature is very excellent. He was a most eminent 
 man, and mighty in the scriptures : may you and I 
 be like him. I am glad to hear the good news you 
 give me of your brother ; I hope it will appear to 
 be the work of grace upon his soul, and that he 
 may really be converted. I like your plan of having 
 a prayer meeting much — may you all experience 
 the blessings you pray for. 
 
 " As to drawing landscapes and plans, you know 
 1 never was any hand at it, nor do I think of doing 
 any thing in it ; if I do, you shall have it. Perhaps 
 I may give Samuel a note. Wishing you every 
 spiritual and temporal blessing, I remain your affec- 
 tionate, though uirworthv, friend, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Letter XII. 
 TO MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Septemler 4, 1806. 
 
 ** My dearest Friend, 
 
 " How wonderfully has Providence 
 appeared for you and for me. This time twelve- 
 month beheld us both buried in a glove-shop — 
 buried, did I say — I recall the word, for we then 
 enjoyed what we do not now, mutual conversation, 
 and each other's company. Let us hope that the 
 time may come when we shall again enjoy that. I 
 am very glad that you succeeded so well as you 
 did in your sermon before the Committee ; take en- 
 couragement from that circumstance to trust God 
 for all your future discourses. The Sabbath day, 
 August 17, though I found that 1 could not con- 
 veniently omit any one of the services, yet I assure 
 you I did not forget your request, I cannot say 
 
68 EIFE OF SPENCER. fart r. 
 
 that I think it is right (especially in me) to omit 
 public worship for private devotion. And if I had 
 done it, my conduct would in all probability have 
 been more inspected about it than I should wish. 
 1 have not seen the rules of Hoxton Academy; I 
 do not think Mr. H. has them; should like to see 
 them much ; hope you will send them next time. I 
 am fully persuaded of the propriety, nay duty, of 
 your joining' yourself to a church, which now I hope 
 you have done;- but for my own part, I must con- 
 fess I have excuses for not doing it; and what 
 clmrch could I join now? Perhaps you say, Mr. 
 Hordle's. I answer, there is no church I should so 
 like to be a member of as his ; but do you see a 
 a propriety in my being a member here, when I do 
 not expect to be here any longer than Christmas? 
 There could not in my view have been a more suit- 
 able pastor for you than Mr. B. I hope you will 
 find his people as suitable as himself. I approve 
 too of your attending the prayer meeting at his 
 place of a morning, and hope you find that conve- 
 nient. May you have precious opportunities in the 
 chapel, at the Lord's table, and at the prayer meet- 
 ing. Ycu praise my verses too much. Indeed 
 they were only the hasty productions of a few mo- 
 ments, and 1 have no cop}- of them, .for I. only wrote 
 them on a slate, and then copied them on the letter. 
 However, I am glad you receive them as a token 
 of our regard and growing affection for each other.* 
 L would advise you by all means to be very friendly 
 with the young men, those with whom you can con- 
 sistently be so : I mean the more pious, and those 
 whom you feel most disposed to associate with. 
 There are, no doubt, a variety of tempers, disposi- 
 tions, and ways, in the academy ; and it is there, I 
 
 • Those who may be anxious to see these verses inserted in the 
 Memoirs, are referred to page 7 for the reasons of their omission. 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 69 
 
 dare say, as in other places, some good and some 
 bad. I do not wonder at your finding- study to be 
 wearisome and laborious* Solomon found it so. — 
 Ecelesiastes, chap, xii. ver. 12. Others find it so. 
 I sometimes find it so, but I am persuaded it will 
 not be always so with you ; and you should recol- 
 lect that it so different from what you have lately 
 been engaged in, that I should wonder if it did not 
 appear strange to you. But I should like to know 
 what you are studying that is so difficult; is it La- 
 tin, Greek, English, Hebrew, or what? Now I do 
 long to be there for the sake of your company as 
 much as you wish me there. O, how charming it 
 would be for us to ^tudy together. How cheer- 
 fully would I give you every instruction in my 
 power. How willingly would I forego my own 
 studies for the sake of improving the mind of a dear 
 friend ! — Such a time may come, and that's all 1 
 know of it ; for, as to when it will be, I confess I 
 know no more than you do. This only I know, that 
 I shall leave Mr. Hordle at Christmas, and shall 
 then see you, my father, mother, &c. who I know 
 will be pleased to see me; but whether I shall come 
 again to Mr. Hordle's or not, I believe nobody 
 knows. I think that it is more likely that you 
 should know before me, for Mr. Wilson and the 
 committee have the management of it. I have one 
 request to make to you which I hope you will grant, 
 and that is that you write to my father at Hertford 
 to tell him where you now are, &c. I know he will 
 be very glad to hear of your welfare. Tell him that 
 it was by my desire you write to him, &c. This 
 request you must, must fulfil. I hope then my dear 
 friend, you may be kept of God from following evil 
 examples, (if such there be in a dissenting academy,) 
 and that it may appear that you are designed to fill 
 some important station in the church of Jesus. 
 Would it be amiss if we were both to learn Dodd- 
 
70 LIFE OF SPENCER. * ART »• 
 
 ridge's 82d hymn, entitled * Isaiah's Obedience to 
 the Heavenly Vision V I know you will like the 
 hymn much.* There is one thing I do noflike in 
 Hoxtcn academy, that is, their not learning* Hebrew 
 without the points; which are little dots or specks 
 put under and about the letters. See on the com- 
 mandments which are hung over the fire-place in 
 the lecture room at the academy if there are not 
 such. Now, about these points there is a great 
 dispute between the punctists and those who are 
 
 * ISAIAH'S OBEDIENCE to the HEAVENLY VISION. 
 
 Isaiah vi. 8. 
 
 OUR God ascends his lofty throne, 
 Array "d in majesty unknown ; 
 His lustre all the temple fills, 
 And spreads o'er all the etherial hills. 
 
 The holy, holy, holy Lord, 
 
 By all the seraphim ador'd, 
 
 And, while they stand beneath his seat, 
 
 They veil their faces and their feet. 
 
 And can a sinful worm endure 
 The presence of a God so pure ? 
 Or these polluted lips proclaim 
 The honours of so grand a name ? 
 
 O for thine altar's plowing coal 
 To touch my lips ; to fill my soul ; 
 To purge the sordid dross away, 
 And into crystal turn my clay ! 
 
 Then, if a messenger thou ask ; 
 A lab'rer, for the hardest task ; 
 Through all my weakness and my fear 
 Love shall reply, " Thy servant 's here * 
 
 Nor should my willing soul complain, 
 Though all it's efforts seem'd in vain: 
 The ample recompence shall be 
 But to have wrought, nay XJod, for thee. 
 
chaMii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 71 
 
 not for their use. The punctists (Mr. S. is a strong 
 one) contend that they are of great use. Some say 
 they are of divine authority. The great Mr. Ro- 
 maine, and the late learned Mr, Park hurst, oppose 
 this idea, and say that they are only little dots or 
 specks added by ill-designing men to the letters. 
 I feel inclined to believe them. Now, I dread 
 almost the learning it with points, as it is extremely 
 difficult; without them, it is simple and easy. Mr. 
 
 H thinks they arc of use, but does not think 
 
 them of equal authority to the letters; and scarcely 
 ever reads with them. Now, he thought it best for 
 me to learn it without points with him, and then at 
 the academy I could learn with them, and so read 
 both ways. I have compiled a lexicon myself, con- 
 taining the roots of all the words in the language — 
 that is, I have quite abridged Parkhurst's very va- 
 luable one (and what no Hebrew student should be 
 without) into a portable form for my own use. Now, 
 I hope your mind will be eased, and your anxiety 
 removed; and with the warmest affection, 
 " I remain, 
 " Your ever faithful friend, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Letter XIII. 
 To MR. HEWARD. 
 
 " Harwich, Oct. 14, 1806. 
 
 u My dearest Friend, 
 
 " As it is now considerably more than 
 a month since you Avrote me a note from Hoxton 
 academy, and I answered it, I conclude that a letter 
 from me will be what you now desire ; and yet I 
 am not quite certain whether you should [not have 
 written first ; but by way of compensation for my 
 
72 LIFE OF SPENCER. part i. 
 
 too long silence before, I am willing to converse 
 with yon on paper. And as Mr. Hordle is gone to 
 "Ipswich to-day, to -an association of ministers, and 
 rl have nothing particularly to be engaged in be- 
 sides, I embrace the opportunity. You are now, 
 I suppose, a little inured to study, and begin to find 
 the difficulties of a student's life not so many as 
 you apprehended they were. I long to know in 
 what studies you are engaged, and how you like 
 them. I have just begun the Greek language ; so of 
 course do not know much about it, my time having 
 been of late principally employed in the Hebrew, 
 of which I am very fond, especially as I now read 
 it ' unsophisticated by Rabbinical points.' I please 
 myself with the idea of seeing and conversing with 
 you in the course of about ten weeks ; but at that 
 time there will be something else which I shall not 
 so much admire. Do you ask me what it is I It 
 is, my dear friend, nothing less than appearing 
 before the committee of Hoxton academy. The 
 thought of it makes me almost tremble. Yesterday 
 morning Mr. Hordle told me that I must prepare 
 the account of my experience, sentiments, and mo- 
 tives for wishing the ministry, by November, to be 
 then laid before the gentlemen of the committee. 
 Tins you know must be done ; and when I go to 
 London about Christmas, I must go through all that 
 painful task, which, as it respects you, is all over. 
 He told me, too, that he supposed there would be 
 some demur about admitting me, merely on the 
 account of my^youth; but he does not know that 
 it will be so as to hinder my admittance: Mr. 
 Wilson has, it appears, written to Mr. H. about 
 it ; so, if the affair succeeds well, I shall be in 
 the academy after Christmas with you. That one 
 circumstance, your company and friendship, will 
 .make amends for all my trouble of mind on the 
 occasion. You may be sure I shall communicate 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 73 
 
 every circumstance to you, and keep nothing back, 
 that so by one occurrence and another, our mutual 
 attachment and sincere friendship may be increased 
 and strengthened. What a long separation we 
 have experienced : may we be brought together 
 again to strengthen each other's hands, and be both 
 engaged in the best employment. You must inform 
 me in your next, how long you think it will be before 
 you begin to preach, and tell me all your places of 
 preaching, texts, plans, &c. I hope you have writ- 
 ten to my father, as I requested you would. I be- 
 lieve they are going on as usual at Hertford. Mr. 
 M. continues among them. May great grace rest 
 upon them all. I do not doubt that I shall feel 
 some degree of uneasiness when the time comes for 
 my separation from my friends here at Harwich. I 
 mean such as Mr. Hordle, &c. &c. But my satis- 
 faction will be, that I shall see you who are still, and 
 I hope ever will be, my dearest friend. We live in 
 a world of changes. Life is indeed a chequered 
 scene : and here we have rip continuing city. May 
 we seek one to come. May it be our happiness to 
 enjoy the favour of him who never changes, but is 
 the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. When I 
 consider my exceeding sinfulness and depravity, 
 besides my inability, I feel almost disposed to wish, 
 my views had never been directed towards the mi- 
 nistry; but it does appear a call of Providence. 
 How could I do any thing else than come here I 
 And now, perhaps, a door may be opened even for 
 my being a student a^ Hoxton ; but I shall go there 
 under several disadvantages; for, being so young, 
 I may expect a good deal of contempt from some 
 self-sufficient and arrogant students, (if such there 
 are) and you know they stay no longer than four 
 years, and after that I shall be but twenty years old, 
 and what can I then say to old experienced Chris- 
 tians? I do indeed feel a deal of discouragement. 
 
 E 
 
74 LIFE OF SPENCJE&. parti. 
 
 " O may the Lord encourage me," &c. But I shall 
 come under some advantages; for, as I am not alto- 
 gether ignorant of many things taught at Hoxton 
 academy, I shall find my studies easier than if I had 
 to begin learning them, &■<;. I wish we could be in. 
 one class. Another disadvantage which Mr. Hor- 
 dle has told me of is this — The students generally 
 spend their money which they are paid for preach- 
 ing, in books,* &c. Now, I shall be too young to 
 preach for at least these four years, consequently I 
 can have no books, &c. till that time. This ap- 
 pears a very great disadvantage. However, I would 
 wish to leave all in the hands of God : he knows 
 what is best for me; and if I am one of those who 
 love God, and are the called according to his pur- 
 pose, he will make all things work together for my 
 good. I want that calm disposition which is careful 
 for nothing, but in every thing, by prayer and sup- 
 plication, makes known its requests unto God. I 
 often reflect on the dealings of Providence with us 
 when I first came to Mr. T.'s. You, I suppose, 
 had not the least prospect of being a student at 
 Hoxton. And I could not see how my coining 
 
 * It may perhaps be considered as departing from the design of 
 this volume, or descending too much to minute particulars — yet I 
 eannot satisfy myself without directing the eyes of those gentlemen 
 who may have the care of providing supplies for the pulpit in desti- 
 tute churches, or in cases of the pastor's absence, to this important 
 circumstance. But few of the students in our academies are over- 
 burthened with money — yet money is absolutely necessary for the 
 purchase of books, without which their studies must be considerably 
 retarded. Deacons, and others whom it may concern, should bear 
 this in mind, in the compliments which they may make them for their 
 occasional services ; and remember, that there is no case in which 
 they can with greater delicacy or propriety, display a generous regard 
 to their wants in this respect, than when thus remunerating them 
 for their acceptable labours. It is needless to express a disapproba- 
 tion, which every candid mind must feel, of a conduct directly the 
 reverse of this, which is perhaps too often practised, when the consi- 
 deration is diminished for the very reason on account of which it ought 
 ..to be increased— it is but a student. 
 
CKAttiii. LIFE OP SrENCEA. 7o 
 
 there to learn that business, could at all further my 
 preparation for that sacred work. We there be- 
 came friends. I was there just long enough to 
 secure a worthy and affectionate friend, and to have 
 the notice of Mr. Wilson. Now you, too, have left 
 Mr. T. and are in the academy. I went, you know, 
 home, not knowing- what the event would be. Pro- 
 vidence has sent me here ; and O, " what am I, or 
 my father's house, that he has brought me hitherto." 
 We are now blind to futurity. We know not where 
 we shall be placed in future life, whether far from, 
 or near to, each other. I hope you are happy in 
 your own soul, and that you live near to God. 
 There is a great danger of forgetting the concerns 
 of our own souls, whilst we are constantly employed 
 in studying divine things. I know a little of this 
 from experience, and perhaps you do. t I hope you 
 , continue to pray for me, that I may be kept from 
 sin and evil, for you know * the effectual fervent 
 prayer of a righteous man availeth much.' Does 
 your brother David make progress in the divine life? 
 You must, in your next letter, give me some account 
 of the change which I hope is wrought in him, for 
 I feel an affectionate regard for all who belong to 
 
 you. 1 ought to write to Mr. E . Is he well? 
 
 When you see him, remember me to him, and also 
 
 to your cousin F . Tell him to write to me, if 
 
 it will suit him. You may, likewise, if you please, 
 tell him how my affairs stand, as I have stated to 
 you. It will be needless for me to give you any 
 advice respecting the composition of your sermons, 
 or the prosecution of your studies, as you, without 
 doubt, have access to so many books on the subject. 
 I hope you will read ' Watt's Improvement of the 
 Mind.' I think it must be charming to attend 
 Walker's lectures on philosophy. Do you attend 
 them ? I should like it very much. Mr. H. told 
 me, that he did give lectures at the academy : of 
 
76 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART f * 
 
 course you are there when he does. You know 
 now when to expect me in London, a little before 
 Christmas, cannot say the exact day; so that now, 
 if you like, you may count the time. Do not be 
 long before you let me hear from you; and when 
 you write, write a good deal. I remain, with the 
 tenderest affection, your sincere and faithful friend, 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Such, at this early age, were the letters of this 
 amiable youth. For the introduction of so large a 
 number it is unnecessary to apologize. That heart 
 is surely in an unenviable state which can derive no 
 pleasure or profit from their perusal. Their sim- 
 plicity is not their smallest ornament : whilst for the 
 many useful hints which they suggest, as well as 
 for the fervent and exalted piety which breathes 
 throughout the whole, they may be consulted with 
 considerable advantage by youthful candidates for 
 the sacred office. Let such as early feel the desires 
 he felt, and pant with an equal ardour for the work 
 of God, imitate his modest diffidence— his devotional 
 temper— his jealousy of the motives which influ- 
 enced his choice— his intimate communion with his 
 own heart— his love of retirement— his habitual 
 reference of his affairs to the will of God— his ad- 
 dictedness to self-examination and to prayer— and 
 above all, that deep and solemn consciousness of 
 the important work in which he desired, with fear 
 and trembling, to be engaged. 
 
 In resuming the thread of the narrative, which 
 the introduction of these extracts from his corres- 
 pondence has suspended, it cannot but be gratifying 
 to the reader to learn the impression of Mr. Spen- 
 cer's call and qualifications for the Christian minis- 
 
chap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 77 
 
 try, which his familiar intercourse with him had pro- 
 duced on Mr. Hordle's mind. 
 
 In a recent letter to a friend, that gentleman 
 observes : — 
 
 " I have had but one opinion concerning our late 
 young friend, which is — that he was born a preacher, 
 and as much called to it, as Jeremiah to the pro- 
 phetic, or Paul to the apostolic, office. All the 
 powers of his soul were evidently formed for it. 
 While he was under my roof, preachers and preach- 
 ing were the constant topics of his discourse ; and 
 those studies which had an immediate reference to 
 them were his delight. His remarkable gift in 
 prayer, though then just turned of fifteen, astonished 
 and pleased all that heard him. He usually took 
 his turn in leading the devotions of our little family; 
 and in his attendance on my ministry, I have some- 
 times seen the feelings of his heart in the tears that 
 gushed from his eyes." 
 
 In perfect accordance with these sentiments are 
 those expressed by the same gentleman, in a letter 
 to a friend at Liverpool, dated Harwich, 13th 
 Dec. 1811. 
 
 " Of his genuine piety, his fine imagination, his 
 early attachment to theological pursuits, his love of 
 study in general, his amiable disposition, and the 
 powerful bias of his mind to the work of the Chris- 
 tian ministry, I have repeatedly declared my firm 
 conviction ; and had Divine Providence spared his 
 valuable life, I have no doubt, as his judgment 
 ripened, his character, excellent as it was, would 
 still have improved." 
 
 Whilst such were the impressions, so truly honour- 
 able to his character, left upon his tutor's heart by 
 the sweetness of his temper, and the vigour of his 
 mind — it is pleasing also to observe the grateful and 
 lively remembrance which the pupil cherishes- of the 
 kindness of his early friend. 
 
78 LIFE OF SrENCER. parti. 
 
 In a letter, addressed to the Rev. Mr. Hordle, 
 from Hertford, he observes : 
 
 " The day of my examination is now fixed for the 
 7th of January. To that day, dear Sir, I look for- 
 ward with trembling : may God grant me all that 
 strength and boldness I shall then need. It is im- 
 possible for me to describe my feelings the night I 
 left you. I tried to suppress any outward expres- 
 sions of them as well as I could. But O ! tis trying 
 to part with friends who are become very dear to 
 r.s; but is it not, also, comforting to look forward 
 to a never-ending eternity, when those wko are 
 cemented into one glorious body by the bonds of 
 divine love shall never part T Afterwards he adds: 
 — " For my part, I desire to be entirely his, (God's) 
 but still I find a heart of unbelief, ever prone to 
 depart from the living God. I hope I feel my own 
 unfitness for the important undertaking, for which 
 it appears God designs me. May he keep me holy 
 and humble, and fit me for all he has in reserve for 
 me in the womb of Providence, whether prosperous, 
 or adverse." 
 
 In a subsequent letter, dated Hoxton, 25th 
 
 March, 1807, he says — " I am told S , of 
 
 Kingston, is going to Harwich : hope you will find 
 him a blessing to your family, and when he shall 
 leave you, may he review with as much pleasure the 
 
 year 1807- as I do the year 1806.- 1 trust I shall 
 
 be constantly enabled to obey the kind advice which 
 you gave me, and to lay every human attainment at 
 the foot of the cross of Jesus; to dedicate all I have 
 to him, of whom I would always esteem it my highest 
 honour to learn ; to give up every thing that 1 may 
 be called to sacrifice for the promoting of his glory, 
 and constantly to seek, not my own things, but the 
 things which are Jesus Christ's." 
 . In another, towards the close of the year 1807, 
 he writes; — 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 79 
 
 "I shall never forget the year I spent at Har- 
 wich; viewing one circumstance with another, I 
 doubt not, but that it was as happy a twelvemonth 
 as I shall ever live." 
 
 With such mutual feelings and expressions of 
 affectionate regard, was Mr. Spencer's departure 
 from Mr. HorcUVs family attended. And this re- 
 view of them will not be in vain, if it suggest to the 
 young persons who may contemplate this imperfect 
 portrait of one, whom living they so much admired, 
 the vast importance of that impression, which tjie 
 conduct of their childhood or their youth may leave 
 in the scenes of their earliest association. For the 
 most part the character of the youth is the character 
 of the man. If, on the circle of his earliest inter- 
 course, an unfavourable impression of his disposition 
 or his conduct is produced, there it is likely to re- 
 main ; but, alas ! there it cannot be confined ; it not 
 unfrequently travels further than the person with 
 whom it is connected, and the character is familiar 
 where the countenance is unknown. Who that has 
 a respect, then, for himself, but must be anxious 
 that the impression, upon which so much depends, 
 should be a happy one ; and that the correct er habits 
 of maturer age should not be counteracted in their 
 favourable operation by the injurious fame, or un- 
 pleasant recollections of his early years. 
 
 But we must follow the amiable object of our 
 contemplation to a new scene. 
 
 The following are copious extracts from the papers 
 which he submitted to the inspection of the com- 
 mittee at Hoxton, on his formal application for 
 admission into that institution. They were accom- 
 panied by a note to the treasurer. 
 
*0 JU1FE OF SPENCER. 
 
 Letter XIV. 
 TO THOMAS WILSON, Esq. 
 
 " Harwich, November 10, 18G& 
 
 " Honoured Sir, 
 
 " With diffidence I present the fol- 
 lowing account of my short experience, doctrinal 
 sentiments, and motives for wishing to engage in 
 the solemn and important work of the ministry, to 
 your judgment and that of the committee. I am, 
 with the sincerest gratitude for your favours, your 
 tumble servant, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 " Harwich, November 10, 1806. 
 " It was my happiness to be born of 
 parents, who maintained a regard for real piety and 
 the fear of God ; by them I was, from my infancy, 
 taught to read the Scriptures, together with other 
 books of a serious nature. I think I may safely say, 
 that from my childhood I felt some more than com- 
 mon impressions on my mind, with respect to the ex- 
 istence and perfections of God, the evil and awful 
 consequences of sin, and the advantages of being 
 religious ; but, alas ! these impressions, though so 
 frequently felt, had not that abiding influence which 
 they have had on the minds of others, but were like 
 ' the morning cloud and the early dew which passeth 
 away.' As I grew rather older, I began to perceive 
 some excellencies in religion, and to envy the hap- 
 piness which I believed serious people enjoyed.. I 
 knew something of the form of religion and the doc- 
 trines of it, from having been taught catechisms, and 
 lessons calculated to give youthful minds some ideas 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 81 
 
 of the worship and conduct which God requires. 
 Yet notwithstanding- this, I gave too much (far too 
 much) attention to the reading of novels and ro- 
 mances, the unhappy effect of which I lament to tho 
 present day. Many of these books I procured of 
 lads, without the knowledge of my father. I felt 
 a degree of pleasure, in hearing lively, animated 
 sermons; but I have reason to believe that this 
 sprung from a desire to please my friends, aad give 
 myself an opportunity of imitating the preacher's 
 voice and gesture. I also composed little pieces of 
 poetry on sacred subjects, which I have since de- 
 stroyed, because I then knew nothing of experi- 
 mental, vital godliness, and of course was only 
 mocking God in them ; but I did not give up mak- 
 ing verses. All this while, I was totally ignorant of 
 that divine principle of grace in the heart, without 
 which, I am sensible, nothing we can do is accept- 
 able to God. I knew nothing of the Holy Spirit's 
 work, in convincing me of sin, and leading me to 
 Jesus Christ as my Saviour. I knew nothing of 
 communion with God and with his Son. I hope 
 some of the sermons of Mr. Ebenezer White, of 
 Hertford, were not altogether useless to me, as well 
 as some which I heard at Lady Huntingdon's cha- 
 pel there : but from my conduct at that time, in 
 various particulars, I cannot say that I had expe- 
 rienced what is meant by being* born again. If 
 you ask me from what time I date ray conversion to 
 God, I must say, that the exact time I cannot tell ; 
 but I think I may also say, that the Lord drew me 
 gradually to himself, and by degrees I loved devo- 
 tional exercises more and more : and I hope that I 
 have, within these four years, experienced many 
 refreshing seasons. How I wish to have my evi- 
 dences brightened, as it respects personal interest in 
 the Lord Jesus Christ! I desire to cast my all 
 upon him, and wait bis will concerning me. How« 
 e2 
 
82 LIFE OF SPENCER. P ^ RT «• 
 
 ever short my experience in the divine life has been, 
 can I not appeal to God, and say, ' Lord, thoa 
 knowest all things, thoa knowest that I love thee?' 
 
 " I hope that my reasons for wishing to be a la- 
 bourer in the Lord's vineyard are sincere, and that 
 they do not spring from any improper motives. If 
 I should be called into it, I pray that I may be kept 
 faithful, and never shun to declare the whole counsel 
 of God. As I know something of the excellency 
 of the ways of wisdom, I am anxious that my fellow- 
 mortals may be partakers of the same grace, and 
 that they may be brought to know God, and expe- 
 rience the riches of divine love and mercy in Christ 
 Jesus : and if God should so honour me, as to make 
 me an instrument in his hand, of doing them real 
 good, how happy should I be; how willing to endure 
 [hardships for Jesus' sake. As I trust God has 
 given me a desire to act for his glory, and I know 
 "that he is glorified in the salvation of sinners, I am 
 •willing, if He should call me to the work, to engage 
 in it. I am aware, that it is an arduous and a diffi- 
 cult work, yet from these principles, I would fain be 
 a faithful minister of Jesus Christ. ■ I would follow 
 the leadings of Divine Providence. By the good 
 hand of my God upon me, I am brought hitherto ; 
 and although some circumstances are against me, 
 yet, * where he appoints, I'll go and dwell.' I am 
 not quite sixteen years old, yet young as I am, I 
 have committed many sins, and experienced many 
 mercies. Now, unto him that is able to keep me 
 from falling, and to present me before the presence 
 of his glory with exceeding joy, be glory and ma- 
 jesty, dominion and power, lor ever and ever, 
 Amen," 
 
 " 1 believe in one God as the object of religious 
 worship ; that this God is from everlasting ; and that 
 
chap. ra. LIFE OF SPENCER. 83 
 
 in our Jehovah there are three distinct persons, viz. 
 the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, and yet 
 these three are one ; that this is a mystery which we 
 cannot explain, yet must believe, because it is de- 
 clared in holy writ. That man was created holy, but 
 fell from his original rectitude, and sunk himself and 
 all his posterity into sin and woe. I believe also, 
 that God from all eternity elected and chose his own 
 people unto eternal salvation ; that men are in a 
 lost state and condition, and are spiritually dead ; 
 that they cannot be saved by any merit or works of 
 their own, but only by the righteousness of Christ 
 the Saviour ; that it is by the operation of God the 
 Holy Spirit on the mind of man, that he becomes a 
 sensible sinner; that his understanding- must be en- 
 lightened before he can choose God for his portion, 
 or the paths of religion as those in which he will 
 walk. It was for this end and purpose that Christ 
 Jesus came into the world, viz. to save sinners by 
 his own blood ; and I am persuaded that there is 
 salvation in no other but in him, and that * he is 
 able to save to the very uttermost all that come unto 
 God by him.' I believe that he is the eternal God, 
 ' the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever;' that 
 his grace is all-sufficient; his name, person, and all 
 that concerns him, is precious to them that believe ; 
 that those who exercise a living faith upon him, are 
 justified from all their sins — at the same time I know, 
 that believers are called to be holy, and that it is by 
 the consistency of their walk, that they are to evi- 
 dence to those around them, that their profession is 
 sincere, for ' without holiness no man shall see the 
 Lord.' As I am fully satisfied with respect to the 
 divine origin of the scriptures, and the inspiration 
 of the holy men who wrote them, so I believe, that 
 they are the unerring standard by which to try our 
 faith, and upon which we are to rest our opinions, 
 I believe, that the people of God should form them 
 
84 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART »• 
 
 selves into separate churches, that they may enjoy 
 the benefit of divine ordinances, such as Baptism 
 and the Lord's Supper, together with the hearing of 
 the word, &c. I believe, that the ordinance of Bap- 
 tism is to be administered to the children of be- 
 lievers, inasmuch as it is a sign of their admission 
 into the visible church, and as it is emblematical of 
 the giving of the Holy Ghost, and that it is to be 
 administered by sprinkling. I believe, that, not- 
 withstanding all the Christian's enemies and dangers, 
 he shall hold on his way, and grow stronger and 
 stronger; and though the doctrine of final perse- 
 verance has been much abused, as well as its truth 
 much questioned, it is an article of my faith, because 
 God's word declares it. I believe in the approach 
 of a judgment day— the eternal glory of believers, 
 and the insufferable torments of the wicked in hell. 
 I believe that God will have the whole glory of the 
 salvation of those who are saved for ever and ever ; 
 and that through all eternity they will ascribe domi- 
 nion, power, and glory, to him who loved them, and 
 washed them in his own blood — at the same time, 
 sinners will everlastingly blame themselves for their 
 perdition and woe." 
 
 On the 7th of January Mr. Spencer appeared at 
 Hoxton, before the committee, and underwent the 
 examination which he had so long and so anxiously 
 anticipated, with success and honour: was admitted 
 a student, and became immediately an inmate of 
 Ohe house. In a letter to his friend Mr. Hordle, 
 dated Hoxton, January 21st, 1807, he says — 
 
 " Two things make this day remarkable to me — 
 one is, that it is my birth- day, as I am now sixteen 
 years old ; the other is, that I have been a fortnight 
 m this house. On Wednesday the 7th insi that 
 
chap ni LIFE OF SPENCER. 85" 
 
 long dreaded day, I appeared before the committee. 
 Your imagination may represent a little boy speak- 
 ing before them. I felt a good deal of timidity, 
 
 and waited the event with feelings of anxiety." 
 
 " I hope I can say, I feel the importance of that 
 work for which it appears God in his providence has 
 designed me: but oh! I need larger degrees of 
 grace to fill that station in such a manner, as that 
 my own soul, and the souls of my fellow creatures, 
 
 may be benefitted thereby." " I recall to my 
 
 mind occurrences which transpired when I was at 
 Harwich — O may I have all God's dealings sanc- 
 tified unto me. I want a deeper acquaintance with 
 my own heart, and a more influential knowledge of 
 God my Saviour." 
 
PART II. 
 
 FROM HTS ENTRANCE INTO THE ACADEMY AT 
 HOXTON, TO HIS SETTLEMENT AT LIVERPOOL. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 His Diligence at Hoxton. — His first Exercises in Preaching. 
 
 lHAT, on his entrance into the academy at Hox- 
 ton, Mr. Spencer was no novice in the knowledge 
 and experience of divine things, is obvious from a 
 perusal of the papers above cited. With a mind 
 already the subject of considerable cultivation, and 
 habits formed for the pursuits of science, he com- 
 menced his academical course under the most auspi- 
 cious circumstances. The importance of such a 
 previous preparation in candidates for the Christian 
 ministry, and the patronage of our dissenting col- 
 leges, is not, perhaps, sufficiently considered. It is 
 to be regretted, that so many enter without having 
 previously obtained the lowest rudiments of general 
 science, or even a tolerable acquaintance with their 
 native tongue. The time allotted for a students 
 residence is, in the most liberal institutions, but 
 
C"AP '• LIFE OF SPENCER. 87 
 
 short, compared with the immense labour required 
 and the magnitude of* the object to be obtained. 
 But much of this time, short as it is, must be ex- 
 pended in the inculcation of those first principles of 
 knowledge, which might be easily obtained else- 
 where; and then, when the student is somewhat 
 prepared for studies more suitable to the dignity of 
 a college, he begins to preach. Thus an attention 
 which ought to be undiv idedly devoted to the labours 
 of the study and the exercises of the class, is partly 
 lavished on preparations for the pulpit and public 
 services. Hence arose the plan, so judiciously 
 adopted in certain cases, in connexion with the aca- 
 demy of which Mr. Spencer was a member, and of 
 the beneficial tendency of which he was so striking 
 an example — of sending the candidates who might 
 be defective in these radical points, or too young for 
 admission, to some pious and able minister for pre- 
 paratory instruction. But these instances, the re- 
 sult of a peculiar necessity, shew the importance of 
 an institution, founded expressly for preparatory 
 studies, — that so a matter of such vast importance 
 to the respectability of the ministry may not be left 
 to the casual benevolence of liberal and enlightened 
 individuals, or any happy combination of circum- 
 stances in a solitary case. 
 
 . In the mean time, to remedy, as far as may be, by 
 his OAvn exertions, this serious defect, should be an 
 object of conscientious regard to every young man 
 whose views are directed to the Christian ministry. 
 By a diligent improvement of his time — by a careful 
 employment of those smaller portions of it, which in 
 too many cases are suffered imperceptibly to slide 
 away — aided by the friendly direction and advice of 
 some judicious minister, which may without much 
 difficulty be in every case obtained — any one of tole- 
 rable capacity and perseverance might afford his, 
 own mind a considerable degree of cultivation, and 
 
88 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n, 
 
 attain a portion of knowledge, ere his entrance into 
 an academy, most favourable to the facility and 
 success of his pursuits whilst there. 
 
 These remarks more particularly apply to those 
 young men, who, with views directed towards the 
 ministry, are still engaged in secular employments, 
 and to whom the privileges of an academy must be, 
 in the first instance, regarded as a distant object. 
 
 Little of importance can be expected to have 
 transpired, in connexion with the early part of Mr. 
 Spencer's residence at Hoxton. It appears, how- 
 ever, that here, as in the Poultry and at Harwich, 
 his interesting appearance and amiable .manners 
 soon gained him the love and esteem of all. The 
 tutors and the students alike felt an interest in this 
 new and youthful member of their literary society — 
 and he applied himself with diligence to the improve- 
 ment of those advantages which he there enjoyed. 
 He was now introduced to a wider range of obser- 
 vation and of study. But whilst a respect to the 
 orders of the institution, and a desire to render 
 himself, by useful acquirements, respectable in any 
 circle in which it might be his future lot to move, 
 induced him to apply with becoming diligence to 
 the various occupations assigned him, he yet dwelt 
 with peculiar attachment on such as were more im- 
 mediately connected with the work of preaching. 
 And with an ardent desire to be early and exten- 
 sively employed in the ministry of the Gospel, a 
 desire strengthened and confirmed by time, it can 
 be no matter of surprise, that to this darling object 
 were directed all the hours of his leisure, and all the 
 powers of his soul. 
 
 From his entrance into the academy to the period 
 when his numerous engagements called him much 
 from home, he usually attended the Rev. John 
 Clayton, and has often expressed his obligations to 
 
CSlfcl. LIFE OP SPENCER. $9 
 
 that gentleman for the great edification he enjoyed 
 whilst he sat beneath his ministry. 
 
 At the vacation in June he returned to his fathers 
 house at Hertford. During his stay there he 
 preached his first sermon in public. It was at the 
 small village of Colliers End, six miles from Hert • 
 ford. His auditory consisted of about thirty plain 
 country people — and his text was I. John, chap. i. 
 ver. 7, ' The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth 
 us from all sin/ Simple and unlettered, however, as 
 his audience might be, they had sufficient penetra- 
 tion to discover the uncommon talents of their 
 youthful preacher. These, together with the no- 
 velty and loveliness of his juvenile appearance, 
 excited in that little village an astonishment and 
 admiration, which have since circulated through all 
 the districts of the great metropolis, and almost 
 every town in Great Britain. How beautiful is the 
 progression which marks all the dispensations of 
 nature, providence, and grace. From the smallest 
 springs the mightiest rivers flow, to promote the 
 fruitfulness or waft the commerce of the globe. 
 From the grain of mustard seed, the kingdom of 
 heaven gradually rises and expands, till it becomes 
 a great tree, beneath whose shade all the nations of 
 the earth repose. And in the history of individuals, 
 — from the day of small things, has not unfrequently 
 arisen a career, whose brilliancy has dazzled and 
 surprised the world. It is for the most part denied 
 to men, who move in a public and extended circle, 
 to witness those early displays of genius, and that 
 gradual developement of talents, afterwards so emi- 
 nent for their. usefulness or splendour, upon which" 
 the eye of a philosopher would love to dwell. This 
 is usually the privilege of a few obscure individuals 
 in some retired spot. The new fledged bird first 
 tries its pinions in its own sequestered bower, ere 
 it soars above its native glen, and courts the admi- 
 
90 LIFE OF SPENCER. ™" T "• 
 
 ration of man by the boldness of its flight, or the 
 sweetness of its song. And yet there is such a 
 peculiar interest connected with the early efforts of 
 an exalted mind, and the first stages of an illustrious 
 career, that we gather with diligence all that can be 
 gleaned respecting them, and listen with delight to 
 the narration of those who were spectators. But 
 few perhaps who have heard of Spencer, but would 
 gladly be transported to the peaceful village of 
 Collier s End, and mingle with the auditors under 
 his first sermon there. And it requires no uncom- 
 mon acquaintance with the principles of our nature, 
 and the doctrine of association in the human mind, 
 to predict, that the villages of Halfway, Street, and 
 Lezciskam, in Kent, will derive some celebrity in the 
 religious world from their having been the scenes of 
 ministerial labour, when a youth, to a preacher, who 
 for these fourteen years past, has held the delighted 
 auditories of the metropolis the willing captives of 
 his eloquence.* And surely such a principle as 
 this, whilst in its gratification it yields an indescri- 
 bable pleasure, may be cultivated to no small ad- 
 vantage. It banishes from the mind that despair of 
 attaining to eminence which a contemplation of it 
 might otherwise inspire, by an assurance that the 
 object at which we aim may be within our reach, 
 since its present possessor once occupied the same 
 level with ourselves, and was attended by circum- 
 stances as unfavourable to his elevation as those 
 which may encompass us. 
 
 * The name of Dr. Collyer is too well known to derive any addi- 
 tional celebrity from being copied on a page my hand has written. 
 And perhaps I may be censured for indulging in an allusion here which 
 bears at least the appearance of flattery. Far be it from me to che- 
 rish such a principle. The work in which I am engaged is sacred to 
 friend-hip and to the memory of departed worth; and is it at all 
 surprising, that whilst endeavouring to preserve the record of a friend 
 removed by death, my memory should sometimes recur to the many 
 excellencies which have so long endeared to me a friend from whom 
 I am removed by distance? 
 
rHAP '■ LIFE OF SPENCER. 91 
 
 Our amiable young preacher's first, sermon excited 
 a strong- desire in his hearers for a repetition of his 
 labours; and his fame, rapidly circulating, pro- 
 duced an invitation also, from another quarter, for 
 the following Sabbath. To these solicitations, we 
 may suppose, he complied, without much reluc- 
 tance, and he preached again on the morning of 
 July 12th, at a village called Brought it. His text 
 on this occasion was Colossians, chap. iii. verse 3, 
 * Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in 
 God.' In the ai'terhoon and evening of the same 
 day, he preached again at Colliers End. In the 
 afternoon from Acts, chap. xix. verse 2. ' Have ye 
 received the Holy Ghost V In the evening from 
 Philippians, chap. iii. verse 18, ' They are the 
 enemies of the cross of Christ.' The attendance at 
 Colliers End was, on this second Sabbath, so much 
 increased, that the room would scarcely contain the 
 people who were desirous of hearing, and everyone 
 seemed still more deeply affected by the impressive 
 manner, the solemn doctrines, and the surprising 
 powers of this young- divine. On the following 
 Thursday he preached again at a place called Brick- 
 enden, from John, chap. iv. verse 29, ' Come sec a 
 man which told me all things that ever I did ; is not 
 this the Christ?' On Sunday, July 19th, he again 
 resumed his labours at Colliers End, and preached 
 in the afternoon from II. Chronicles, chap. xxxiiL 
 verses 12 and 13, ' And when he was in affliction he 
 besought the Lord his Gocl, and humbled himself 
 greatly before the God of his fathers, and prayed 
 unto him ; and he was entreated of him, and heard 
 his supplication, and brought him again to Jerusa- 
 lem, and to his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew 
 that the Lord he was God.' In the evening the 
 multitude that assembled was so great, that to gra- 
 tify them all, he was under the necessity of preaching 
 out of doors, which he did with great animation and 
 
92 LIFE OF SPENCER. rARr »' 
 
 effect, from Romans, chap. xiv. verse 12, 'So then 
 every one of us shall give account of himself to God.' 
 It appears from the report of one who was present at 
 the delivery of this sermon, that it was remarkably 
 impressive. Although surrounded by so a great a 
 crowd, he seemed quite undaunted, and expressed 
 himself with an ease and an energy which produced 
 the most serious impressions upon many, and excited 
 the astonishment of all. To see the old and grey- 
 headed melted into tears beneath the simple touches 
 and fervent appeals of a youth, but little more than 
 sixteen years of age, proclaiming, with the boldness 
 and propriety of an experienced veteran, the glorious 
 Gospel of the blessed God, must have been truly 
 interesting. And it is also gratifying to know, that 
 by the earliest labours of this excellent young man* 
 happy and saving effects were produced, which re- 
 main to this day. On the evening of Thursday, 
 July 23d, he preached at Bimtingjbrd, a town 
 about ten miles from Hertford, from John, chap. x„ 
 verse 9, ' By me, if any man enter in, he shall be 
 saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture/ 
 On Sunday, July 26th, he preached again, afternoon 
 and evening, at Collier's End. In the afternoon 
 from John, chap. vi. verse 44, ' No man can come 
 to me except the Father which hath sent me, draw 
 him : and I will raise him up at the last day/ In the 
 evening from II. Timothy, chap. ii. verse 19, ' Ne- 
 vertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, 
 having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are 
 his ; and, Let every one that nameth the name of 
 Christ depart from iniquity.' On the Wednesday 
 evening following he preached at Hormead, from 
 Psalm iv. verse 6, ' There be many that say, who 
 will shew us any good { Lord, lift thou up the light 
 of thy countenance upon us.' And on the Thursday 
 evening again at Brickenden. At Hormead his 
 congregation amounted to six or seven hundred 
 
chap.c. LIFE OF SPENCER. 93 
 
 persons, and the place where they were assembled 
 was a barn.* Indeed by this time his fame had so 
 widely circulated, that wherever he preached, num- 
 bers flocked from all parts to hear and see this 
 wonderful youth; and he might have preached every 
 day in the week, had he been so inclined, so numer- 
 ous were the invitations that crowded upon him. 
 However, his vacation drew towards a close; and his 
 return to Hoxton suspended for a while these pub- 
 lic exercises. He preached on the evening of Sun- 
 day, August 2d, at Roydon ; and we hear no more 
 of his preaching till December. 
 
 It certainly admits of a doubt, whether these early 
 exercises in preaching are beneficial or injurious. 
 That they are injurious, may be argued from the 
 circumstance, that they tend to elate and dissipate 
 the mind — to inspire it with conceited notions of its 
 own superior powers — too soon, alas ! to familiarize 
 the ear to the insinuating sounds of flattery, and, 
 investing the young man with a high opinion of his 
 present qualifications, to annihilate those humiliat- 
 ing views of his ignorance and imperfection, — and 
 
 • The circumstance of Mr. Spencer's preaching in a barn, and in the 
 open air, may perhaps excite unpleasant feelings in the breasts of 
 some who, having occasionally heard him with delight, may honour 
 these pages with a perusaL They may feel regret that he should ever 
 have been so irregular, or have ever trodden in the steps of men, who 
 are universally condemned as enthusiasts and fanatics. It is neces- 
 sary, therefore, in order to vindicate him, and all who have been 
 guilty of a similar offence against the laws of ecclesiastical decorum , 
 from the charge of enthusiasm and fanaticism, to produce some pas- 
 sages of scripture, by which their conduct, in this respect, is fully 
 justified : i Howbeit, the Most High dwelleth not in temples made 
 with hands.' — Acts, chap. vii. ver.^e 48. l Where (whether in a field, 
 a barn, or a temple ) two or three are gathered together in my name, 
 there am I in the midst of them.' — Matthew, chap, xviii. verse 20. 
 ' Go out into the highways and hedges and compel them to come in.' 
 — Luke, chap. xiv. verse 23. The most impressive sermon ever 
 preached was delivered in the open air, upon a mount. And the 
 wilderness of Judea was the scene of his ministry, who was honoured 
 to be the forerunner of the Messiah. 
 
94 LIFE OF SPENCER. part it. 
 
 that ardent panting" after knowledge, in which lies 
 the great source of respectability and usefulness 
 in after life. Not to notice those practical errors 
 into which the inexperience and incaution natural 
 to youth may lead him, when engaged in directing 
 men in affairs of infinite and eternal moment. If 
 the aged evangelist, — the venerable pastor, is heard 
 so frequently to deplore his imperfection and lament 
 the possibility of error in his public instructions — a 
 yowig man may well proceed in his early labours 
 with caution, and had need to be possessed of no 
 common discretion and knowledge, to counteract 
 the suspicions necessarily excited, in the breasts of 
 the thoughtful, by his youth. 
 
 But perhaps, on the other hand, there are peculiar 
 advantages connected with an early entrance on the 
 work of preaching. The novelty of the circum- 
 stance excites attention, and many are savingly 
 impressed under his ministry, who, but for the 
 juvenility of the preacher, had never heard the 
 Gospel from his lips. And this is doubtless amongst 
 the many means which an infinite wisdom has se- 
 lected, for accomplishing, in the conversion of sin- 
 ners, the purposes of an infinite love. Besides 
 that, on the preacher's own mind, his early employ- 
 ment in ministerial labour, may have a most happy 
 influence. By an early experience of the difficul- 
 ties and trials of the work, he may attain an ease 
 and a skill in its execution, which is perhaps but 
 seldom reached by the man who has commenced 
 much later in the day. In youth the mind is all 
 activity, and difficulties which are met with then, are 
 far more easily surmounted than when they are pre- 
 sented to the opposition of maturer age. But after 
 all, much depends upon the peculiar circumstances 
 of the individual case. Many a man is better pre- 
 pared for the work of the ministry at sixteen, than 
 others are at forty ; and whilst the popularity and 
 
chap i. L IFE 01? SPENCER. 95 
 
 flattery which usually attend the course of youthful 
 preachers would he the ruin of some, there are others 
 endued with a prudence and a piety sufficient to resist 
 their influence. And he it remembered, that the 
 time allotted to every man for labour is at best but 
 short, and that for many of our ministers — alas! that 
 for the most part these should be the most eminent 
 and useful !— is prepared an early grave ! To be 
 lavishing the precious time which ought to be de- 
 voted to the salvation of immortal souls, in the 
 acquisition of profound and extensive erudition; to 
 be immured for years in the walls of a study, and 
 confined to the precincts of a college, impairing the 
 physical strength by midnight application, and smo- 
 thering the flames of holy zeal amid the ices of me- 
 taphysics, and the lumber of heathenish philosophy, 
 whilst thousands of immortal souls are perishing, to 
 whose eternal interests those years might be success- 
 fully devoted — is certainly a conduct highly culpable, 
 and not in the spirit of him who said — ' work while 
 it is day, for the night cometh, when no man can 
 work.' Far be it from the writer of this volume in 
 any way to undervalue or decry that knowledge, 
 which, in a minister of the Gospel, the circumstan- 
 ces of the present times so imperiously demand. — 
 These remarks only apply to those cases in which 
 years are expended in adding to a stock, already 
 more than sufficient for present purposes, without 
 applying to m\y practical use that which is so largely 
 possessed. They may affect such institutions as, 
 having for their object the preparation of young 
 men for the work of the ministry, suffer the zeal for 
 God, and the love of souls, which led them to its 
 patronage, at least to lose a portion of its fire by 
 years of dry scholastic disquisition, ere they are 
 suffered to go forth into the world and expend them 
 on their proper object — the conversion of their dying- 
 fellow men. 
 
96 LIFE OF SPENCER. pabtii. 
 
 With respect to Mr. Spencer, the world will 
 judge whether he began to preach too soon or not. 
 I believe that Liverpool, by far the most competent 
 to express an opinion in this case, will, without 
 hesitation, decide in the negative. Perhaps there 
 are who may be disposed to say, " this was an ex- 
 ception." — Granted; — but in such exceptions let a 
 similar liberty be allowed. Where extraordinary 
 gifts, attended by extraordinary grace, so early de- 
 velope themselves, allow them a proportionably 
 early exercise, nor rob the church of God of an 
 useful minister, who, ere the period a cautious po- 
 licy has fixed for the commencement of lus labour 
 is arrived — may be summoned to his rest. 
 
 On his return to Hoxton we find Mr. Spencer 
 preaching occasionally in the workhouses — an admi- 
 rable school for young divines. Surely this is no 
 inconsiderable circumstance in which our dissenting 
 colleges are superior, as schools of practical di- 
 vinity, to those of the establishment. There the 
 student emerges at once from the retirement of 
 private life to ail the publicity of the sacred office. 
 Such a sudden transition, to a delicate mind, must 
 often be attended with considerable pain, and may 
 lead, in the first few instances, to a confusion and 
 embarrassment most distressing to himself, and most 
 unfriendly to his prospects of future respectability 
 and usefulness. On the other hand, with us the 
 student gradually, almost imperceptibly, glides into 
 the ministry, and by a continued, but cautious, en- 
 largement of the sphere in which he is allowed to 
 move, he rises from a few poor people in a work- 
 house, to address t^he most respectable auditories. 
 
 On his return to his father's house for the Christ- 
 mas vacation, Mr. Spencer preached for the first 
 time at Hertford. It did not happen to him, as is 
 often the case, that he had no honour in his own 
 country. Numbers pressed, urged, no doubt, in 
 
chap. i. LIFE OP SPENCER, 97 
 
 the first instance, by curiosity, to hear him; and 
 those who are accustomed to mark the influence of 
 similar circumstances upon a susceptible mind, will 
 enter a little into his emotions, when rising to ad- 
 dress, upon the most solemn of all subjects, a vast 
 multitude of his fellow-townsmen, amongst whom he 
 recognised many of his juvenile companions — the se- 
 veral members of his own family — and, not the least 
 interesting object in the group, the venerable matron 
 who had early instructed him in the principles of his 
 mother tongue, and whose lot it was to observe the 
 first faint dawnings of a talent, then rapidly advan- 
 cing to its fullest exercise and strength. But long 
 after the influence of novelty may be supposed to 
 have subsided, he continued to excite the admiration 
 of his native town. His first sermon at Hertford 
 was preached on the evening of Sunday, December 
 20th, at the Rev. Mr. Maslin's chapel, from Ephe- 
 sians, chap. v. verse II, ' And have no fellowship 
 with the unfruitful works of daz'kness.' He preached 
 again on the Wednesday evening following, and on 
 tlte evening of Christmas day, on which occasion his 
 text was, Micah, chap. v. verse 2, ' But thou, 
 Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little among 
 the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come 
 forth unto me that is to be Ruler in Israel, whose 
 goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting.' 
 The passages of scripture selected by Mr. Spen- 
 cer, as the subjects of his earliest discourses, afford 
 another demonstration, in addition to many others, 
 of the general bias of his mind. They are such as 
 one may well imagine a preacher, panting for the 
 salvation of his fellow-men, would select for the 
 commencement of his public labours. The topics 
 which they suggest are of all others the most solemn, 
 as they are the most simple and the most important 
 in the whole range of inspired truth, and hence they 
 were best adapted to the preacher's age, and the 
 
 F 
 
OS LIFE OF SPENCER. parth, 
 
 unlettered character of his auditors* It seems, that 
 in his earliest sermons there was nothing- of that 
 parade and glare — nothing of that excessive fond- 
 ness of figures and love of imagery, which too often 
 mark the first compositions of youthful preachers — * 
 preachers who, in a more advanced stage of their 
 ministry, have not been less respectable or useful 
 than he. 
 
 Whether this is to be considered as an excellence 
 or a defect, it is probable, with some, may be a matter 
 of debate. Dr. Blair, (or rather Quintilian, from 
 whom he copies,*) in his remarks on the early com- 
 positions of public speakers, urges in favour of that 
 exuberance of imagination and excess of ornament, 
 — that time and experience will prune all this away, 
 and in proportion as the fire of youth declines, the 
 glare of the composition will sink into the settled 
 lustre of maturer age. And hence he argues for 
 the indulgence of imagination at this period ; since 
 by the tkne the powers are called into full and 
 stead v exercise, they will have undergone a certain 
 train of discipline, and have found their proper limits. 
 •But if the composition has all the judicious sobriety 
 of that maturer age, amid the vigour and vivacity of 
 youth, what is it likely to be in the more advanced 
 stages of its exercise, but cold, insipid, and dull? 
 
 But surely all depends upon the nature of the 
 subject, and the source whence the public orator is 
 to draw the energy which must give animation to 
 his discourses. The fire of genius, the glow of ima- 
 gination, must be the enkindling torches in the se- 
 nate — -at the bar ; but, though not altogether useless 
 in the pulpit, yet they are not the lawful sources of 
 animation there. It is not the blaze of genius, or 
 
 • Quintilian again quotes fronvCicero. ihe great master of elo- 
 quence; whose remarks on this subject are worthy his immortal 
 p eu —Vjd. Quint. Just. Ora-t. lib. n ch. 4 ; et Cicero de Orat. lib. 
 ji. ch. 21. 
 
c «-* r ■«« LIFE OF SPENCER. 99 
 
 the glow of imagination ; but the sacred flame of 
 (ervent piety, the holy kindlings of a mind moved 
 by principles derived from heaven, and the generous 
 efforts of a soul impelled by an intense desire for 
 the salvation of a dying world, that must impart life 
 and energy to the glowing statements, — the warm 
 and empassioned appeals of the ambassador for 
 Christ. Other sources of animation may be ex- 
 hausted by exercise, and dried up by time ; but this 
 can never fail. It will remain the same when the 
 head of the venerable prophet is covered with hoary 
 hairs, and the body is sunk in the decrepitude of 
 age. Nay, as in the case of the apostle Paul, it 
 will rise into brighter radiance as he advances to 
 the termination of his course, — a more ardent pant- 
 ing for the salvation of mankind will mark his dying 
 hours, than that which attended his entrance on his 
 labours; and, with David, the last prayer his spirit 
 breathes will be for the universal diffusion of that 
 gospel, which it has been the business and the 
 honour of his life to preach — ' Blessed be the Lord 
 God, the God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous 
 things. And blessed be Ins glorious name for 
 «ver : and let the whole earth be filled with hi* 
 glory. Amen and Amen !' 
 
CHAP. II. 
 
 His Popularity in London. — His extensive Labours in various Parts of 
 the Country. — He visits Dorking for the recovery of his Health. 
 
 WE now arrive at a period in Mr. Spencer's 
 history, peculiarly critical and important. Dur- 
 ing the vacation of Christmas, ] 807, the Rev. Mr. 
 Leifchild, of Kensington, was supplying the pulpit 
 at Hoxton chapel. One Sabbath afternoon, in 
 January, Mr. Spencer being then returned to the 
 academy from Hertford, Mr. L. expressed a wish 
 that he should assist him, in the public service, by- 
 reading the scriptures and engaging in prayer. 
 The request was granted, and an extract of a letter 
 obligingly addressed by that gentleman to me, will 
 convey a lively picture of the deep impression which 
 his appearance and manner produced upon the 
 large congregation before whom he stood. 
 
 " But when he appeared in the pulpit- 
 after the first emotions of surprise were over, and 
 after the mistakes of some, who supposed that he 
 was a little boy belonging to the gallery, who, from 
 ignorance or thoughtlessness, had gone up the pulpit 
 stairs, instead of those leading to his seat, had been 
 corrected, so sweetly did he read the chapter,* so 
 
 * On the eveniug of the following Sunday, Mr. L. addressed young 
 people ; when Mr. Spencer again conducted the devotional part of the 
 service. The chapter which he then read was Ecclesiastes xii. A person 
 since received into the church at Hoxton, dated her first serious im- 
 pressions from the reading of that chapter, and the solemn prayer 
 then offered up. 
 
«hap.u. LIFE OF SPENCER. 101 
 
 earnestly, so seripturally, so experimentally, did he 
 engage in prayer, that for the whole six Sabbaths 
 afterwards he became the chief magnet of attraction 
 to the place. The people now insisted upon it he 
 should preach, I need not name his subsequent 
 success." 
 
 The entreaties of the people having prevailed, 
 Mr. Spencer, though contrary to the standing order 
 of the institution, was allowed to preach. It was a 
 delicate situation. Yet it was one to which he had 
 long and anxiously aspired. Indeed, so strong was 
 his desire for the public engagements of the minis- 
 try, that the fear of being long denied the gratifi- 
 cation of his wishes, on account of his youth, actually 
 preyed upon his spirits so severely as even to affect 
 his health. But it was not from the love of fame or 
 popular applause that he cherished this desire ; it 
 was from the hope of being early and extensively 
 useful ;— as if urged by a presentiment of his im- 
 pending fate— immediately to commence those ho- 
 nourable labours from which he was to be called so 
 soon. 
 
 When he appeared in the pulpit at Hoxton, a 
 youth just seventeen years of age, he betrayed none 
 of that distressing anxiety which marks the candi- 
 date for public approbation ; but stood with all the 
 dignified composure, and spoke with all the unem- 
 barrassed energy, of an ambassador for Christ, 
 His text was Psalm xxxii. verse 6, ' For this shall 
 every one that is godly pray unto thee in a time 
 when thou mayest be found ; surely in the floods of 
 great waters they shall not come nigh unto him/ 
 At the close of his discourse, the sentiments which 
 dwelt upon the lips and countenances of his auditors 
 were those of pleasure, admiration, and surprise, 
 His excessive youth — the simplicity of his appear- 
 ance — the modest dignity of his manner — the sweet- 
 ness of his voice— the weight and importance of his 
 
102 LIFE OP SPENCER. ™" »• 
 
 doctrine — and the force — the affection — and the 
 fervour with which he directed it, to the hearts and 
 consciences of those who heard him — charmed and 
 delighted, whilst they edified. And returning from 
 the sanctuary to the social circle, they dwelt alter- 
 nately upon the loveliness of the preacher, and the 
 importance of the truths which they had heard from 
 his lips. 
 
 Upon this scene the Christian student mav, with 
 advantage, pause and meditate. Looking forward,, 
 perhaps with considerable apprehension, to the 
 period of his public entrance on the labours of the 
 ministry, he may be anxious to ascertain what was 
 the secret spring — the hidden source, of that calm 
 composure and unfettered boldness, which charac- 
 terised the earliest addresses of this interesting 
 youth. To such then I can confidently sny, — it 
 was not the proud consciousness of superior powers, 
 — of erudition — of genius, or of eloquence ; but it 
 was the influence of a heart warmed with the love 
 of Christ, big with the vast moment of his solemn 
 theme, and panting with an ardour which no cir- 
 cumstances of difficulty could suppress, for the 
 salvation of sinners. Such an influence as this will 
 make the coward bold, and convert the most timid 
 and feeble into valiant and successful champions of 
 the cross. Before an influence like this, the love of 
 fame, — the glare of popularity, — the opinions and the 
 plaudits of mankind retire. No consideration re- 
 mains, but that of the worth of immortal souls, and 
 the importance of their salvation. This, under the 
 agency of the Eternal Spirit, whose assistance every 
 faithful minister may with confidence expect, will 
 supply a closeness of appeal to arrest the attention 
 — furnish topics of discourse to inform the judg- 
 ment, and animated expostulations to warm the heart. 
 When the blaze of genius and of oratory is extin- 
 guished, this will continue to burn with a steady 
 
chap. n. LIFE OF SPENCER. 103 
 
 flame. And whilst many, his acknowledged supe- 
 riors in talent and in literature, are left behind, the 
 preacher in whose breast it glows will be conducted 
 to scenes of extensive usefulness, and the enjoyment 
 of an honourable renown. 
 
 Mr. Spencer now became the topic of general 
 discourse, — the subject of universal enquiry. His 
 name spread far and wide. His danger became 
 daily more and more imminent. Letters pressed 
 upon him, filled with flattery. — Invitations arrived 
 at the academy from all parts, for his services ; and 
 he appeared, as a friend, who witnessed his sudden 
 and extraordinary elevation, observed, like one 
 standing on the brow of a precipice, amid the most 
 violent gusts of wind. 
 
 Disapprobation cannot be expressed in terms too 
 strong, of the conduct which is usually adopted by 
 the religious public towards their favourite, and 
 especially their youthful preachers. And the cen- 
 sure which may, in a lamentable degree, admit of 
 universal application, falls with pre-eminent pro- 
 priety on the professors of religion in the metropolis 
 and its neighbourhood. There, indeed, by the per- 
 petuai accession of fresh objects, to the sphere in 
 which they move, such a love of novelty — such a 
 fondness of variety — such a taste for something 
 original — is excited and constantly fed — that what- 
 ever is uniform and solid, in the ministry of their 
 established and experienced pastors, while it secures 
 the attention and regard of the judicious and dis- 
 cerning, is too often neglected as stale and insipid 
 by the more lively and enlightened class of hearers. 
 A new name is announced on the cover of a maga- 
 zine, or from the pulpit of some celebrated chapel, 
 and thither the unstable multitude direct their 
 steps. — They sit in judgment on the preacher's 
 manner — his appearance — his action, and his voice ; 
 for amongst too many, alas ', it '\s is to be lamented, 
 
104 LIFE OF SPENCER. ™*t "• 
 
 that the solemn truths which he delivers are but 
 secondary objects of regard. If there should be 
 nothing striking in his manner — nothing melodious 
 in his voice — nothing singular in his appearance — 
 nothing peculiar in his system — and nothing parti- 
 cularly favourable in the circumstances of his intro- 
 duction to the pulpits of the metropolis, there he 
 may continue his appointed period, and when it has 
 expired, return to the peaceful village or the quiet 
 town, where it is his lot to labour, 
 
 " The world forgetting — by the world forgot." 
 
 On the other hand, with this class of hearers the 
 preacher who secures their admiration instantly be- 
 comes their idol. As if irresistibly impelled to ex- 
 tremes, they lavish on him the warmest eulogies and 
 adulation, often too palpable to be endured. For- 
 getting that he is a man of like passions with them- 
 selves, they heap their honours on his head as though 
 lie could remain insensible to the plaudits they be- 
 stow^ and perfectly superior to the influence of every 
 principle of pride. 
 
 The following lines of the inimitable Cowper well 
 express the sentiments which in these remarks must 
 suggest themselves to every thinking mind : — 
 
 " O Popular Applause! what heart of man 
 
 Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms? 
 
 The wisest, and the best feel urgent need 
 
 Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales ; 
 
 But swelVd into a gust— who then, alas 1 
 
 With all his canvass spread, and inexpert, 
 
 And therefore heedless, can withstand thy power? 
 
 Praise from the rivell'd lips of worthless bald 
 
 Decrepitude, and in the looks of lean 
 
 And craving Poverty, and in the bow 
 
 Respectful of the smutch'd artificer, 
 
 Is oft too welcome, and may much disturb 
 
 The bias of the purpose. How much more 
 
 Pourd forth by beauty splendid and polite, 
 
 In language soft as Adoration breathes? 
 
 Ah, spare your Idol! think him human still. 
 
 Charms he may have; but he has frailties too. 
 
 Pote not too much, nor spoil what ye admire." 
 
CiiAP.n. LIFE OF SPENCER. 105 
 
 But the preaching- of Mr. Spencer, even in his 
 earliest discourses, was not of that light and mere- 
 tricious kind which may secure the temporary* admi- 
 ration of the wandering and unsettled. It possessed 
 much of the solid, — -the experimental, and judicious; 
 and this secured him the attention and esteem of 
 those, whose approbation any man would consider it 
 an honour to enjoy. But this only tended to heighten 
 his danger. God, however, gave him grace equal 
 to his day. His letters during his popularity in 
 London breathe the same spirit of humility as that 
 which marked his earlier correspondence ; and a 
 piety seldom surpassed in fervour and sincerity 
 tended to preserve him steady in the midst of that 
 treacherous sea, upon whose billows, though young 
 and inexperienced, it was his lot to ride. 
 
 Numerous and pressing however as were the in- 
 vitations from different parts of the metropolis and 
 its neighbourhood, yet Mr. Spencer did not preach 
 again in London (except in the workhouses, which 
 the students regularly supplied, and also once in a 
 small chapel in Hackney Road) until September. 
 In the meanwhile his talent for preaching had ample 
 exercise in various parts of the country, which dur- 
 ing this period he was allowed to visit. So that, 
 from January 7th to September 8th he preached no 
 
 * I believe that general experience will justify the observation, 
 that however, attendant circumstances may contribute, for awhile 
 to render an individual popular, nothing but sterling worth can 
 secure its perpetuity ; and whenever the preaching of a popular 
 minister has endured, without injury to his reputation, the ordeal of 
 a ten or twenty years' trial, he may safely be regarded as possessing* 
 an excellence superior to any thing his manner could exhibit. But I 
 feel the delicacy of the topic I have thus ventured to introduce, and 
 gladly refer to illustrations of the same subject by more experienced 
 and far abler hands.— See, Fuller's Life of Pearce; and Jay's Life 
 of Cornelius Winter. — Books in which examples, the one of more 
 public, the other of more retired, but not less transcendent excellence, 
 seem to live before us for our instruction. To every student for the 
 Christian ministry they must prove an invaluable treasure. 
 
 f2 
 
108 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ir. 
 
 less than sixty times. The following are the prin- 
 cipal places which were then favoured with his 
 labours: — Roydon, Godmanch eater, Ripton, Bun- 
 tingford, Hertford, Dorking, Rumford, Harlow, 
 Royston, Hadham, Hayes, Cliigwell, and Mill-Hilt. 
 At all these places the attention he excited was con- 
 siderable, and the impression he left remains with 
 the people to this day. 
 
 Mr. Spencer's second sermon at Hoxton chapeF 
 was delivered on the evening of Thursday, Septem- 
 ber 8th. It confirmed the opinion of his excellence 
 produced by the first. His text was, Acts x. verse 
 36, ' He is Lord of all.' 
 
 The general sentiment of approbation and delight 
 at first excited by his youthful appearance and his 
 extraordinary pulpit talerts, was now deepened and 
 established, and he began to preach pretty exten- 
 sively in the pulpits of the metropolis and its neigh- 
 bourhood. On Sunday, September 18th, we find 
 him in the pulpit at Holywell Mount chapel, and on 
 the Sunday following in that at Kennington chapel; 
 and on the afternoon of Sunday, November 13th, 
 he supplied the chapel in Old Gravel Lane, Wap- 
 ping.* During the Autumn of this year he also 
 visited several parts of the country immediately sur- 
 rounding London ; and he preached, among other 
 places, at Upminster, Epsom, Guildford, Roydon, 
 and High Wycombe. 
 
 With respect to the wisdom and propriety of 
 permitting such extensive public labours, in one so 
 young, and at so early a stage of his academical 
 course, there will be perhaps a diversity of opinion. 
 On the general question, in which this is but an in- 
 dividual case, there can be but one sentiment. No- 
 
 * The church assembling in Old Gravel Lane formerly sat under 
 the ministry of the late Rev. Noah Hill, but now enjoys the pastoral 
 care of the Rev. Mr. Hooper, oue of the tutors in the college at 
 Hoxton. 
 
chap it. lh? E op SPEKCER. 107 
 
 thing tends more to dissipate the mind, than much 
 travelling- and much society- And particularly un- 
 friendly to the fixed and laborious habits of a stu- 
 dent's life is that kind of intercourse with society, 
 which the young- minister, in his occasional visits, 
 usually obtains. The esteem in which, for the most 
 part, the name of a minister is held, in the circles 
 which he enters, secures him an attention and an 
 ease by far too flattering not to be injurious; whilst 
 the refined and fascinating- manners of some societies 
 but ill prepare the mind for the privations and la- 
 bours of academic life. * But perhaps a far mere 
 serious object of regard is the time which is thus 
 necessarily and irretrievably lost to the great and 
 avowed object of his pursuit. It is impossible to 
 take a review of the past year of Mr. Spencer's 
 life, and number up the several places at which he 
 lias preached — at some of them two or three times, 
 whilst others he visited more than once, calculating 
 their respective distances from Hoxton, and the 
 time necessarily occupied in travelling, together 
 with the many hours, perhaps days, which must have 
 been consumed in preparing the discourses there 
 delivered,— without being struck with a conviction, 
 of the immense loss which, in a literary point of 
 view, he must have sustained. And the pursuit of 
 literature is, after all, the professed object of our 
 dissenting colleges. Considering too, that this was 
 but Mr. Spencer's second year of study, and con- 
 necting this with the shortness of the term he had to 
 stay, and his exceeding youth, the impression is still 
 deepened. But Mr. Spencer's was an extraordi- 
 nary case. His fort was the composition and deli- . 
 very of sermons. He was at home and happy only 
 in the sacred work. He seemed but to live for this 
 object. Other objects he might contemplate, with 
 respect and even esteem, excited by a conviction 
 of their utility and excellence — but on this his heart 
 
108 LIFE OF SPENCER. tarth, 
 
 perpetually dwelt "with a fervent and impassioned 
 love. It was evidently for this God had especially 
 designed him ; and for the work he had to accom- 
 plish, and the early account he had to render, — all 
 perhaps are now convinced that he was not suffered 
 to begin too soon. For one whose day of useful- 
 ness has proved so short, and over whom the night 
 of death so early and so suddenly has shed its gloom, 
 we cannot but rejoice that its first dawn was devoted 
 to his honourable labour, and not even a solitary 
 hour neglected, from the commencement to the ter- 
 mination of his career.* 
 
 Mr. Spencer preached again at Hoxton chapel 
 on Christmas day, morning and evening ; and also 
 delivered an address, on the following evening, at 
 the prayer meeting. A day or two after, he left 
 London for Brighton, and preached his first sermon 
 in that celebrated seat of gaiety and fashion on the- 
 evening of Thursday, December 29th, at the Coun- 
 tess of Huntingdon's chapel, from Zachariah, chap, 
 vi. verse 12, * Behold the man whose name is the 
 BRANCH, and he shall build the temple of the 
 Lord .' On Sunday, 1 st January, 1809, he preached 
 in the afternoon at the Rev. Mr. Styles's chapel, 
 and again in the evening at the Countess's. 
 
 I am the more particular in marking the date of 
 his first visit to Brighton, as it commences a new 
 year, and forms also a most important epoch in his 
 history. The interesting- and endeared connexions 
 which he afterwards formed there, tend to throw a 
 new and brilliant light upon his character; whilst 
 
 • A contemplation of the facts connected with the interesting, but 
 melancholy history of Spencer, may however tend to shew, that 
 whilst much preaching and much travelling are to be deprecated as 
 evils, especially in the earlier stages of a student's course, yet that no 
 specific rules can be established in this case for universal and invari- 
 able application. On the propriety of the thing, in every case, the 
 tutors are the best qualified to decide. 
 
chip. ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 109 
 
 they shed a softer air of melancholy around the cir- 
 cumstances of his early and lamented fate ! 
 
 Alas! of what moment to the Christian minister 
 is the formation of connexions such as these. De- 
 licate as the subject may be, and ill qualified as I 
 feel I am to enter fully into its discussion, I yet 
 cannot suffer it to pass without some observations 
 on its vast importance. — By imprudence here, how 
 many have injured their character, impaired their 
 usefulness, and destroyed their comfort for life. 
 Upon the partner which a minister selects much of 
 his happiness depends. He must be indeed a child 
 of sorrow, who, with a heart broken by disappoint- 
 ment, and a brow clouded by care — such cares and 
 disappointments as too frequently imp art a character 
 of gloom to a pastor's life — finds no relief in his 
 domestic circle, and seeks in vain for the soothing 
 influence of sympathy in the individual whom he has 
 chosen to be a ' help meet for him.' 
 
 The important subject thus reluctantly, though 
 unavoidably introduced, distributes itself into many 
 branches, each interesting in its kind, on which 
 age and experience might with considerable pro- 
 priety descant. And however unwilling I am to 
 enter more largely into the discussion, and though 
 I feel myself deficient in both these qualifications, 
 yet I cannot forbear reprobating, in the severest 
 terms, that rash and thoughtless haste which too 
 often marks the decision of students and youthful 
 ministers in this respect, and which too frequently 
 leads to settled distress, — final ruin, — or shameful 
 infidelity ! To the honour of Spencer be it record- 
 ed, that his choice in the first instance displayed 
 his wisdom: his uniform attachment until deaths 
 • — his constancy! 
 
 Mr. Spencer preached again at the Countess of 
 Huntingdon's chapel at Brighton on Thursday even- 
 ing, January 5th, and left that place on the following 
 
110 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 
 
 day. On the ensuing Sunday lie preached at Hol- 
 loway, morning- and afternoon ; and on the evening 
 of Tuesday the 10th, addressed an immense con- 
 gregation from the pulpit of that truly excellent 
 man, the lie v. Rowland Hill, at Surrey chapel. 
 The subject of his discourse was Deuteronomy, 
 chap, xxxiii. verse 3, '. Yea, he loved the people ; 
 all his saints are in thy hand, and they sat down at 
 thy feet: every one shall receive of thy words!' 
 
 Between this date and the following Midsummer, 
 his labours appear to have been, in point both of 
 number and success, truly astonishing. He now 
 preached much in and about London, and where- 
 ever his name was announced, the crowd that flocked 
 to his ministry, proved how extensive and deep the 
 impression was which it had excited. Besides occu- 
 pying many of the most respectable pulpits in the 
 metropolis, during this period, he visited and 
 preached in the following places : Guildford, Ep- 
 som, ~\¥orthing, Barking, lioydon, Dorking, Bun- 
 tingford, Winclunore-Hill, Saffron Walden, and 
 Hertford. 
 
 During his stay at Worthing, which was in the 
 month of February, he made several excursions to 
 Brighton, which became more endeared to him by 
 every visit. The attachment was mutual. His mi- 
 nistry excited general attention: multitudes pressed 
 to hear hiin. The public prints declared their admi- 
 ration of his powers ; aud the private circle forgot 
 the trifliug topics of the day, intent upon the dis- 
 cussion of his rare and extraordinary talents. More> 
 especially did he bind to him the hearts of the young, 
 by the warmth, simplicity, aud affection of his ad? 
 dresses to them : and in no place which was honoured 
 by his labours, was his worth more fully appreciated 
 in life, or his loss more deeply and universally la- 
 mented in death. 
 
 But by so much preaching and fatigue, his strength 
 
chap ii. LIFE OF SPENCER; 111 
 
 became exhausted and his health impaired ; and dur- 
 ing- the Midsummer vacation, the committee super- 
 intending- the stations of the preaching students*, ap- 
 pointed him to spend some weeks at Dorking-, in 
 Surrey, where the labour was but small, the retire- 
 ment deep, the country beautiful, and the air salu- 
 brious. To this place he went in the beginning of 
 July, — -having first paid a visit to his family at Hert- 
 ford, and preached again in his native town. At 
 Dorking he was committed to the care of Mrs. 
 Alexander, a kind and pious matron, whose hospi- 
 table attention to the servants of Christ who have 
 had the happiness to repose beneath her roof, ren- 
 ders her worthy the appropriate epithet of — " Mother 
 in Israel." The praises of such pious women are, 
 and ought to be, in all the churches. Happy is that 
 congregation which possesses one or two such valu- 
 able and useful characters. To the youthful preach- 
 ers who may be appointed to labour for a while in 
 the congregations to which they belong, they often 
 prove an inestimable blessing. By their timely as- 
 siduities, not unfrequently, diseases the most serious 
 and alarming may be averted, by which valuable 
 ministers might have been early snatched from the 
 church and ironi the world ; and, at any rate, those 
 little offices of unaffected kindness, in the perform- 
 ance of which they so much excel, will tend to 
 sooth the anxieties by which, in early life, many a 
 delicate frame is prematurely wasted and impaired. 
 The maternal solicitude of this most excellent wo- 
 man for the health and comfort of the interesting 
 stranger, who had thus become her guest, deserves 
 to be recorded. He had been overtaken by a heavy 
 
 I rain, on his way, and was completely drenched, be- 
 fore he reached her house. She sent him imme- 
 diately to bed — ordered a fire to be lighted in a 
 room adjoining the one in which he slept, and with 
 
112 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART H - 
 
 night to dry his clothes, and to attend to him. So 
 that when he rose on the Sabbath morning', every 
 article of his dress was completely ready lor him. 
 — An act of kindness, the impression of which upon 
 his feeling- mind, was never erased. 
 
 For Spencer too the spot was admirably chosen. 
 Nothing could better suit his fondness for retire- 
 ment, and love of social or solitary walks. I am 
 not a stranger to the scenery — I once visited it, like 
 him, for relaxation ; and the remembrance of those 
 happy days, in a thousand pleasing- pictures, crowds 
 at this moment on my mind. The country is suffi- 
 ciently bold and varied to inspire ideas of grandeur 
 and magnificence, though not so romantic and 
 vast as to excite astonishment and terror. From 
 the summit of abrupt and lofty hills, clothed with 
 luxuriant foliage, the delighted eye may roam at 
 leisure over woods and valleys, that will not yield 
 in fruitfulness and beauty to the fairest plains of 
 Italy; and in deep embowered glens, made cool 
 and fragrant by meandering streams, the mind 
 may yield to melancholy musings and to solemn 
 thought — so unbroken is the silence, — so profound 
 the solitude.* 
 
 His engagements, his feelings, and the scenes 
 
 * In one of these retired dells, where art has followed up the rude 
 design of nature, a rustic temple, unadorned and simple as the genius 
 of the place, affords to the weary wanderer its temporary rest A 
 grateful poet has left some tributary lines in honour of the scene, of 
 which they are so descriptive, that I hope I shall be pardoned if I 
 introduce them here. 
 
 u Stranger, whencesoe"er you come, 
 Welcome to this rustic dome ; 
 Welcome to the hill — the glade ; 
 Welcome to the forest shade. 
 
 To our simple homely fare, 
 Come and welcome — banish care ; 
 Climb our hills, and health inhale. 
 Borne upon the scented gale. 
 
chap. ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 113 
 
 that surrounded him, are all sweetly depicted in the 
 following letter. 
 
 Letter XV. 
 TO MR. GEORGE MEDLEY. 
 
 " Dorking, July 2\st, 1809. 
 
 ** Very dear Sir, 
 
 " It has occasioned me no small anxiety, 
 that since I have been at this place I have heard 
 nothing of you. 'Tis, true, indeed, that I engaged 
 to write to you, but I have been expecting that you 
 would have called here before now on your way te 
 Brighton. 
 
 " I need not tell you how happy I should be to 
 see yon, nor what real pleasure my kind hostess 
 would feel in entertaining you at her house. 
 
 Bury in this wooded glen, 
 All the cares of busy men ; 
 While the streams that round us roll, 
 Sweetly murrn'ring, sooth the soul. 
 
 See. the glorious orb of day 
 Gilds us with his parting ray ; 
 Whilst above the woods afar 
 SweetJy shines the ev'ning star. 
 
 Stranger, rest thee here awhile, 
 
 Till the morning sun shall smile, j 
 
 Then explore the fairy scene, 
 
 Lovely as a waking dream. 
 
 Worn and wasted by disease, . i 
 
 Pale and languid — ill at ease,— 
 Say, does health thy care employ— 
 Health, the fostf ing nurse of joy ? 
 
 Come and chase her on our hills ; 
 
 Meet her by our purling rills ; 
 
 Woo her mid our shadowing trees ; 
 
 Catch her on the balmy breeze. * :?: 
 
 Health, and peace, and joy are here ; 
 Come and welcome— banish care — 
 Cease thy wand'rings — lose thy woes, 
 Yield to pleasure and repose." 
 
114 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 
 
 " Since I have been at Dorking, my time has 
 been fully occupied by a variety of engagements* 
 Preaching, walking, reading, and society, have all 
 urged their claims upon me, and each received a 
 measure of attention. [ have reason to hope, that 
 the Lord of the harvest will bless his word, as he 
 enables me to deliver it to the congregation. The 
 greatest attentions are paid me; nor do I anticipate 
 the day of separation from them with any peculiar 
 sentiments of pleasure. Motives for humility and 
 lowliness of mind continually rush in upon me, and 
 wretched indeed shall I be, if suffered to fall into 
 pride, — that " condemnation of the devil." 
 
 " The vicinity of this town is remarkably plea- 
 sant : in my walks I am sometimes led to see, how 
 the azure skies, meandering streams, flowery meads, 
 and rising hills, all shew forth the eternal power and 
 Godhead of the Saviour by whom all things were 
 created ; and how they ail serve, in one way or other, 
 to recommend him, and set forth his unrivalled ex- 
 cellence, while they acknowledge him as their sole 
 proprietor, for " he is Lord of all? 
 
 " I hope that you enjoy the blessings of his new 
 creating power, and find that he who first created 
 in you a right spirit, still puts his fear into your 
 heart, as your best defence against every danger, 
 and as your effectual preventative against depart- 
 ing from him. 
 
 M In your requests to the God of his saints " re- 
 member me," that lie may bestow upon me such 
 blessings as shall render me a lively Christian, a 
 faithful friend, and a useful minister; nor would I, 
 when I bow my knees before our Father who is ia 
 heaven, forget to pray for you, to whom I am so 
 much indebted, and who may well consider me as 
 Your s, most affectionately, 
 
 « THOMAS SPENCER. W 
 
CHAP. III. 
 
 His Correspondence with Mr. Haddon. 
 
 DURING his stay at Dorking' it was bis happiness 
 to form a friendship the most intimate and endeared 
 with Mr. J. Haddon, of London; and on the return 
 of that gentleman to town, Mr. Spencer began an 
 epistolary correspondence with him, which continued 
 till his death. A valuable assortment of these letters 
 has been kindly put into my hands, and with the 
 greater part of them I shall enrich these pages. The 
 following is, I believe, the first in the series. 
 
 Letter XVI. 
 TO MB. JOHN HADDON. 
 
 " Dorking, July 25th, 1809. 
 
 " My worthy Friend, 
 
 " I know no other way of expressing 
 the pleasure your letters and your society have 
 afforded me, than by endeavouring to repay your 
 kindness, or at least, by shewing you that I am sen- 
 sible of the obligations under which I am laid by 
 you. The pleasant interviews, the truly social 
 walks, and the various other enjoyments which we 
 experienced together, have left an impression of at- 
 tachment to yourself on my mind, which I am per- 
 suaded will not be easily obliterated. Hie country 
 
lift LIFE OF SPENCER. part ii. 
 
 is indeed as pleasant in itselfnow, as it was the week 
 before last; yet, believe me, it is not half so much 
 enjoyed by me as it was then. — The same streams 
 indeed glide pleasantly along- — the same hills majes- 
 tically rise — the same enlivening prospects strike 
 the eye, and pervade the soul, with admiration — and 
 every thing around me seems to say, ■ 'Tis Surrey 
 still i but there is a sad deficiency in all my peram- 
 bulations — it is, ' that I am all alone.'* — Yesterday 
 
 • This is a quotation from a beautiful poem of Henry Kirke 
 White's, to whose charming productions Spencer was most ardently 
 attached. The poem itself so accurately describes the state of his own 
 mind, and the melancholy musings in which he indulged, in his soli- 
 tary walks, when deprived of the pleasure of his friend's society, that 
 I need not apologize for its introduction. 
 
 SOLITUDE. 
 
 It is not that my lot is low, 
 
 That bids this silent tear to flow ; 
 It is not grief that bids me moan ; 
 It is, that I am all alone. 
 
 In woods and glens I love to roam, 
 When the tir'd hedger hies him home ;. 
 Or by the wood-land pool to rest, 
 \Vhen pale the star looks on its breast 
 
 Yet when the silent ev'ning sighs, 
 With hallcw'd airs and symphonies, 
 My spirit takes another tone, 
 And sighs that it is all alone. 
 
 The autumn leaf is sear and dead, 
 It floats upon the water's bed ; 
 I would not be a leaf to die 
 Without recording Sorrow's sigli ! 
 
 The woods and winds with sullen wail, 
 Tell all the same unvaried tale ; 
 I've none to smile when I am free, 
 And when I sigh, to sigh with me! 
 
 Yet in my dreams a form I view, 
 That thinks on me, and loves me too: 
 I start, and when the vision 's flown, 
 J. weep that I am all alone. 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 117 
 
 I went to Brockham; but there was no Haddon to 
 meet me on my way thither, or to return with me 
 any part of the way home. Last Tuesday evening 
 Mr. Moore very politely offered to take me to Ep* 
 som, to hear Mr. Clayton the next day ; which offer 
 I most willingly accepted. On the whole, we had 
 rather a pleasant day. Mr. George Clayton preached 
 on Matthew xxi. and 28th. It may perhaps give 
 you pleasure to hear, that I preached very comfort- 
 ably last Lord's day from the new bible, which is 
 exactly the thing, I should know very little of the 
 trials and difficulties of life, were I always to live as 
 I now do. I really feel sometimes as if I needed 
 something to quicken 'me to diligence, and put the 
 graces of the Spirit in exercise, which, I am afraid, 
 were I long to glide down life's stream so easily as 
 I now do, would begin to die. Ease is a dangerous 
 foe to the prosperity of religion in the soul, and 
 opposition of some kind is essentially necessary for 
 us who profess a religion which is described as a 
 
 To these mild complainings of this sainted bard, a reply, character- 
 ised by the same tenderness of thought and elegance of expression, has 
 been furnished by the pen of Mr. Josiah Conder, of London. 
 
 ON READING THE POEM ON SOLITUDE, , 
 
 In the 2d. vol. vf H. K. White's Remains. 
 
 But art thou thus indeed alone? 
 Quite unbefriended— all unknown ? 
 And hast thou then His name forgot, 
 Who formd thy frame and fix'd thy lot? 
 
 Is not His voice in ev'ning's gale? 
 Beams not with Him the star so pale ? 
 Is there a leaf can fade and die, 
 Unnotic'd by His watchful eye? 
 
 Each fluttering hope, each anxious fear-^ 
 Each lonely sigh, each silent tear, 
 To thine Almighty Friend is known : 
 And say'st thou, thou art " all alone?* 
 
118 LIFE OF SrENCER. ^W "• 
 
 race to be run, as a battle to be fought; and which 
 is represented to us by every metaphor which gives 
 us the idea of active labour and unceasing- exertion. 
 I hope to have the happiness of frequently meeting 
 with you after my return to town ; and I have the 
 pleasure to inform you, that my appointments favour 
 such intention. Mr. Wilson has written to inform 
 me, that I shall preach in town for five Sabbaths 
 after the vacation. The manuscripts you sent highly 
 delight me. Mrs. Smith wishes me to leave Her- 
 bert with her, to which I know you will not object. 
 I continue about the same in my health as I was 
 when you left me ; and am very thankful that here 
 I have not to preach so many times as at several 
 other places. That the good will of Him who 
 dwelleth in the bush may ever countenance and 
 console you ; that the divine Spirit may ever lead 
 you into all the truth ; that you may possess every 
 evidence that you have found favour in the sight of 
 the Lord ; and that Christ Jesus may be your eter- 
 nal portion, is my humble, earnest prayer. Let us 
 hope hereafter to behold his face together, in a world 
 where we shall be liable to change and separation 
 no more, but where we shall be enclosed in glory, 
 changeless as his own. This is the desire of one 
 who can truly call himself, 
 
 " Yours, most affectionately, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 " My kind hostess desires to be respectfully 
 remembered to you. I expect I shall be in town 
 next Tuesdav." 
 
 Mr. Spencer left Dorking after the last Sabbath 
 in July, and preached the six following Sundays in 
 

 chap.hi. LIFE OF SPENCliR. 119 
 
 and about London. The places at wbicli lie labour- 
 ed during these six weeks were While How, Pell 
 street, Jewin street, Camden chapel, Adelphi cha- 
 pel, and Hoxton chapelt At Jewin street he preach- 
 ed four Sabbaths out of the six, afternoons and 
 evenings. In the meanwhile his health still conti- 
 nued but indifferent, and indeed so much exertion 
 both of mental and of physical strength was but ill 
 calculated to promote its vigour. His mind how- 
 ever seemed every day to grow in activity and zeal. 
 In the pulpit, — in society, he was all animation and 
 life. Like most who are the victims of much ner- 
 vous irritability, his flow of spirits was excessive, 
 which frequently led to ungenerous and merciless 
 observations from those, who either had not the 
 wisdom or the candour to attribute, what might ap- 
 pear as levity in him, to its real cause. It is indeed 
 an unhappy circumstance, when such is the natural 
 tendency of a man's mental constitution, and from 
 nothing perhaps have young ministers suffered more 
 than from this. At the same time, it is a shame and 
 scandal to the Christian world, that there should be 
 so many, who, professing to be the friends of stu- 
 dents and youthful preachers, encourage and excite 
 this unhappy bias, for their own amusement, and 
 are then the first to censure and expose the youth 
 they have betrayed ! 
 
 But where such is the natural disposition of a 
 pious and devoted mind, its exercise in company is 
 often followed by the keenest anguish and the deep- 
 est melancholy, in hours of solitude and reflection. 
 The severe and malignant censurer should remem- 
 ber, that he is not omnipresent ; and that there may 
 be scenes in the retired life of the character he in- 
 jures, which would put him to the blush. These 
 remarks have been suggested by some passages in 
 the following letter. 
 
120 LIFE OP SPENCER. 
 
 Letter XVII. 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDOX. 
 
 " Hoxton, August 15, 1809. 
 
 "" My dear Friend, 
 
 ■* I am sorry to inform you, that it is 
 not in my power to gratify yourself, to please our 
 friends, or to fulfil my own wishes, by demoting any 
 evening- in the week to visiting. I really cannot do 
 it. My engagements this week are such as peremp- 
 torily to require my continuance at home, most likely 
 till Sabbath day, at any rate till Saturday afternoon. 
 I am obliged to those kind friends who expressed 
 their concern about my exertions. I feel that I am 
 not worthy of their sympathy. May their compas- 
 sion lead them to pray for me, that I may be strength- 
 ened with all might by the Spirit in my inner man ; 
 and that He whose pleasure it is to increase strength 
 to those that have no might, would help the infirmi- 
 ties of one who is weaker than a bruised reed ; and 
 yet has undertaken an f nice, to the discharge of 
 which an angel is incon.petent. My health is cer- 
 tainly in a better condition than it has been, but I 
 am afraid I am still far from well : my head fre- 
 quently aches, and I feel a sickness in my stomach. 
 These are some of the miseries that flesh is heir to ; 
 but it is a joyful thought, that in the kingdom of 
 glory our bodies will be no longer susceptible of 
 pain, nor our minds of disquietude. Perfect health, 
 composure, and joy, will be our happy lot when we 
 see each other in a better world. And can we not 
 hope that we shall do this, and that for ever we shall 
 adore our common Saviour together I The lead- 
 ings of his providence first brought us acquainted 
 'with each other; and the methods of his grace will? 
 
chap ui L1FE op SPENCER. 121 , 
 
 I hope, lead us on to glory, and in our way thither 
 make us helps to each other. Pray for me, that my 
 diligence may be excited, my levities checked, and 
 my spirituality promoted. After all I say against 
 the world, I must confess, with shame, that I am 
 very like many of the men of the world in this re- 
 spect ; that I indulge in a lightness of disposition 
 which is inconsistent with the character of a Chris* 
 tian, and makes us resemble those who never think 
 of eternity and the solemnities of religion, Ah! my 
 dear friend and brother, I have experienced in my 
 short life many a bitter hour, occasioned by my own 
 folly in this respect. But what a scandal is it to a 
 professing Christian, that natural dispositions and 
 surrounding temptations should overcome a princi- 
 ple of grace in the heart — a principle which ought 
 ever to operate powerfully in weaning us from folly, 
 and making us every day more and more serious and 
 holy. Never do you be afraid of cautioning, or re- 
 proving me, but give me opportunity to prove that 
 * Faithful are the wounds of a friend!' I have felt 
 more, in reference to yourself, than I have ever yet 
 expressed. More affection for you ; more gratitude 
 that Providence placed you in my way ; and more 
 determination to make you my counsellor and friend 
 than I have ever yet told you. The Lord help us 
 to strengmen each other's hands in his good ways. 
 I shall not like your letters so well if you do not 
 direct them yourself. This you will say is folly, but 
 I cannot help it. Adieu, 
 
 " Your's, affectionately, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER.' 
 " N. B. Saturday afternoon, if possible, I will 
 see you." 
 
 The history of the following month is from the pes 
 of his most intimate friend. 
 
122 LIFE OF SPENCER. fart u 
 
 " At his return [from Dorking] be supplied Jewin 
 street meeting for a month, in the afternoon and 
 evenings, where the attention he excited will not be 
 easily forgotten. Before he left, numbers could not 
 get admittance. The church were very anxious 
 that he should settle among them,* but their desire 
 could not be complied with. I have heard him 
 blamed respecting that business ; but it was only 
 by those who did not know the circumstances of the 
 case. I was in the possession of his heart in that 
 affair, and it would be unjust to his memory not to 
 declare, that he was free from blame. His affection- 
 ate spirit keenly felt for them in their disappointment. 
 ? The good people at Jewin street,' said he, in a 
 letter to me, * have a strong claim upon our prayers;' 
 and it was to sooth their minds that he composed 
 his sermon upon Isaiah, chap, xxxiii. verse 20. 
 The time of his supplying at Jewin street was very 
 pleasant to me. I claimed the whole of his time 
 between and after the services, which inclined him 
 to enjoy that retirement which was so congenial to 
 his holy soul. When going to preach no one saw 
 him. — I used to knock at his door — give in his 
 refreshment — and watch the time for him. — It was 
 from the mount of communion that he always went 
 to the pulpit, and this caused his sermons to shine 
 gloriously. — Frequently in passing to the house of 
 God we kept perfect silence, while his mind has been 
 so entirely absorbed, that I have found a necessity 
 for guiding him ; and after worship he loved to stop 
 as long as he conveniently could, that he might pass 
 away unnoticed. — But such was the character of 
 Spencer — his deep humility — fervent piety — and 
 amiable simplicity, that I am fully convinced it 
 
 * The church was then under the pastoral care of the Rev. Timothy 
 Priestley, a truly venerable divine, whose age and infirmities rendered 
 the aid of a colleague necessary. 
 
 
chap. hi. L 1FU OF SPENCER. 123 
 
 cannot be fairly stated without suspicion of exaggera- 
 tion; andlmust confess, that I should have found great 
 difficulty in giving fallen nature credit for the excel- 
 lencies which, from the closest inspection, I saw* 
 resident in that truly illustrious and holy youth." 
 
 One Sunday, at Jewin street, his father and sisters 
 were present. After worship Mr. Priestley said to 
 the father, " God keep you humble with such a 
 son." " Ah, sir!" said the good old man, " and 
 my son too." 
 
 The following letter, written on the Saturday pre- 
 vious to the last Sabbath of his supplying Jewin 
 street chapel, discloses- his feelings with respect to 
 the church in that place, and will prove to the peo- 
 ple with how much affection he wrote and thought 
 of them. Nor will it be less valuable for the spirit 
 of filial love and duty which it breathes. 
 
 Letter XVIII. 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 
 
 « September 2, 1809. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " Truly sorry am I in any case to 
 disappoint you, and yet it must be so as it respects 
 this evening. — Before seven o'clock I am necessi- 
 tated to go from home, nor can I return till late in 
 the evening. You ask, ' can you not give up this 
 engagement V I answer, this is impossible ; because 
 nothing short of filial duty is the cause of my ab- 
 sence from home. This morning I received a letter 
 from my dear father, telling me that he must be in 
 town to-day, although he has been travelling in the 
 the country all the week ; and he wishes me to meet 
 him this evening at half past six o'clock. This, I 
 am sure will be regarded as a sufficient reason by 
 
124 LIFE OF SPENCER. ™rt "• 
 
 you, and nothing short of such a reason could induce 
 me to. go out at all this evening; for to tell you the 
 truth, I am very unwell. My head and my side have 
 suffered exceedingly for a day or two past, more 
 especially to-day. Nor are my prospects of the 
 morrow of the most enlivening kind. In fact, too, 
 my spirits are very low. The sight of my aged pa- 
 rent may perhaps revive them, and make * my heart 
 rejoice, even mine.' Mr. W. has just told me, that 
 he has informed Mr. S. that I cannot supply them 
 any longer than to-morrow. The opinion of the 
 committee, &c. goes against them. For my part, I 
 can only say, ' My God, thy will be done.' You 
 will see me at Jewin street in the afternoon ; but 
 whether able or incapacitated to perform my duty 
 there, I know not. Pray for me, that much grace 
 may communicate to me sufficient strength. 
 
 " Whether well or ill, cheerful or melancholy, I 
 am your's affectionately, 
 
 "'THOMAS SPENCER.* 
 
 Having completed his engagements at Jewin 
 street, Spencers labours became again miscella- 
 neous and widely diffused. On Sabbath day the 
 17th, he preached at Roydon, a village near Hert- 
 ford, when he availed himself of the opportunity 
 which this appointment afforded him of visiting his 
 family. I cannot but conceive the bliss which such 
 occasional interviews would cause in that little cir- 
 cle, which had once the happiness to call him theirs ! 
 To them, the recollection of those happy hours, 
 devoted to social or sacred intercourse with their 
 departed friend, must yield a soothing, though a 
 melancholy, pleasure. Nor is the reflection less 
 honourable to his memory, than it is consolatory to 
 their minds. In the midst of the unbounded popu- 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 125 
 
 larity which he enjoyed — surrounded by new and 
 splendid connexions — the admiration of listening 
 crowds, each eager to express his approbation — all 
 ambitious of his friendship — he ever thought with 
 the warmest affection of those whom he had left in 
 that obscurity from which he had himself emerged. 
 — Gladly did he seize the opportunity, when it oc- 
 curred, of retiring from the public eye to taste again 
 the tranquil pleasures of his home, and enjoy the 
 interchange of all those sacred and delightful feel- 
 ings, which strengthen and endear the ties and obli- 
 gations of social or domestic life. — He was not 
 unduly elated by his popularity. In his new asso- 
 ciations he did not forget his kindred and his father's 
 house. — His family did not sink in his regard, in 
 proportion as he rose to eminence. The voice of 
 universal praise did not drown the milder whispers 
 of paternal love. — But in a heart whose best affec- 
 tions were devoted to the noblest objects, and to 
 which new scenes of exertion were perpetually un- 
 folding, — the family at Hertford held an honourable 
 and distinguished place. The most extensive public 
 engagements, are not incompatible with the retired 
 duties of private life — and the cares and responsibili- 
 ties of the most laborious ministry may be sustained 
 and discharged, without absorbing those affectionate 
 regards so justly claimed by parental kindness and 
 fraternal love. 'Tis true, that as a Christian, and 
 in his official capacity, every believer in Jesus is to 
 the faithful minister a father — a mother — a sister — 
 and a brother. But as a man the relations of life 
 exist for him — and the feelings of humanity must be 
 common to him too. A heart from which these ties 
 are rudely severed — is but ill adapted to that sooth- 
 ing inQuence by which the office of the ministry 
 becomes a source of comfort to the wretched ; — and 
 a man whose bosom is a stranger to the tender sym- 
 pathies of human life — alike insensible to joy or 
 
126 LIFE OF SPENCER. imrtji, 
 
 sorrow — may with propriety administer the cold rites 
 of a Stoical philosophy — but must ever be a living 
 contrast to the religion of Jesus— a system whose 
 characteristic spirit is that of the purest and tenderest 
 benevolence. 
 
 Before his departure for Roydon, the following- 
 letter was addressed by Mr. Spencer to his friend. 
 The observations at the beginning upon Christian 
 boldness are judicious — and cannot fail to prove 
 interesting and instructive. 
 
 Letter XIX. 
 TO MR. JOHN HADBON. 
 
 " Thursday Evening, Sept. 14, 180& 
 
 u My dear Friend, 
 
 " I know you wish me to write you 
 a great deal; but 1 must plead the old excuse — 
 
 want of time ; for I find that , instead of 
 
 calling to-morrow morning, must have this directly, 
 and I have but this minute left the chapel. You tell 
 me your '■ mind recoils from public duty, however 
 plain and clear/ and you need not to be told that 
 this is a pity ; and in this respect you do not display 
 that Christian boldness which is, after all, consistent 
 with genuine humility — which the apostles displayed 
 and enforced — which the Bible every where recom- 
 mends — and which is well calculated to evidence 
 our decided attachment to Jesus and his cause. It 
 shall be my part, however, not to reproach you for 
 the want of it, but to carry your wants before our 
 Father's throne, and entreat him to fill you with all 
 holy boldness and Christian courage; whilst at the 
 same time I would most earnestly entreat you to 
 consider the foolishness of your fears, the little need 
 we have to seek to please our fellow-creatures, or 
 
•hap. ni. LIFE OF SPENCER. 127 
 
 to dread them ; and above all, the constant inspec- 
 tion of Him who said, whosoever shall confess me 
 before men, him shall the Son of Man also confess 
 before his holy angels. But I am persuaded that 
 you are not. ashamed of Jesus; yet there is great 
 need for us all to ask ourselves repeatedly, ' am I 
 fully on the Lord's side ?' because this very examin- 
 ation itself produces the best effects, as it prompts 
 us to give evidence before others of the reality of 
 our hope, and it brings us near to God, who can 
 make us strong- in the grace that is in Christ 
 Jesus, and faithful even unto death. Your letters 
 always affect me; your company, you know, de- 
 lights rne ; and what shall I say of your attachment 
 to me, but that it meets return. I am often indeed 
 induced to believe that you are too careful of me, 
 and too much concerned about me. Expressions 
 of gratitude on my part from my mouth or pen I 
 know you do not want, therefore I shall not trouble 
 you with them. My mind is perfectly at ease about 
 the present or future laws of the house, as well as 
 about any situation after I have filled it. O that I 
 may be stayed on God! I often think what a pity 
 it will be, if from our friendship there should arise 
 no good effect: however here I am wrong, because 
 I am myself a witness that good effects have arisen 
 to me; but I long that to us there may be opened 
 fresh sources of comfort and joy in God, and that we 
 may then be made abundant blessings to each other. 
 —I am going to preach next Sabbatk at Roydon, 
 a village near Hertford, where I have reason to 
 hope God has owned and blessed my unworthy la- 
 bours before. May he do so again. Perhaps I may 
 go to Hertford to-morrow afternoon, as it was the 
 place of my nativity, and is now the residence of my 
 dear father, my sisters, brother, and mother-in-law. 
 I could say much more, (though in the same feeble 
 and desultory style) but you perceive my paper i^ 
 
128 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 
 
 full. I cannot expect to see you at all till Tuesday. 
 The coach comes into town on Monday evening-, 
 about half past six. If I can, I will walk then to 
 Fleet street. 
 
 " Adieu, my dear friend, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 From this period to that of his first visit to Liver- 
 pool, I am not in possession of any remarkable 
 occurrences in Mr. Spencer's history. At any rate, 
 i am aware of none which tend to illustrate any 
 particular feature of his character — or are of such a 
 nature as to warrant their publication to the world. 
 ."But there yet remain many interesting letters to his 
 friend Mr. Haddon, which will supply the want of a 
 connected narrative — and that friend who, during 
 this period, enjoyed the most intimate acquaintance 
 with him — and obtained a most accurate knowledge 
 ©f his character, has furnished me with a series, of 
 anecdotes and observations, which will make the 
 reader familiar with the man, and most strikingly 
 exhibit the holy, humble, and fervent bias of his mind. 
 For the present I shall content myself with making a 
 selection from these letters, with such occasional 
 remarks as may, be necessary to illustrate their sub- 
 jects or occasions ; whilst the characteristic sketches 
 above alluded to, will occupy some of the succeed- 
 ing pages. 
 
 Letter XX. 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 
 
 " Hoxton, October 12, 1809. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " With pleasure it is that I inform 
 you, that X am appointed for Vquxhall. I feel 
 
cwAP.in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 12$ 
 
 pleasure, because this assignation gives us another 
 opportunity of enjoying each other's society. I have 
 not yet written to those friends in the country, but 
 intend doing it to-morrow. May the young lady 
 die in such a peaceful and happy state of mind, as 
 shall, instead of suffering the survivors to sorrow as 
 those who have no hope, rather give them to say — 
 Behold how he loved her! I mentioned the circum- 
 stance to Mr. W. at the same time stating the wish 
 of the Roy don people that I might supply them on 
 Sabbath day. He told me it could not be complied 
 with, assigning as a reason, that I was given out at 
 Vauxhall. As the affair now stands, I am quite sa- 
 tisfied, because I wish to resolve all my appointments 
 into the will of the Head of the Church. — * Where 
 he appoints, I'll go.' — Of all evils, I pray to be 
 particularly delivered from leaning to my own un- 
 derstanding, and indulging my own wayward will. 
 May obstinacy never characterize me. May grace 
 always be given me to suppress it when it rises.— 
 To these requests I know, that from your inmost 
 soul you will say, Amen. One of our fellow students 
 has just delivered us a good sermon from — ' The 
 righteous hath hope in his death.' — I enjoyed his ser- 
 mon much more than I generally do those which are 
 delivered to us on a Thursday evening. This was 
 so experimental — so scriptural — so pious, that it 
 found its way to my heart. May you and I when- 
 ever we shall come to die, have a lively, a sure and 
 a certain hope of reigning in life by Jesus Christ. 
 Whilst so many are called away around us, surely 
 we should recollect the uncertainty of our own con- 
 tinuance upon earth; and as death is still potent, 
 still inexorable, and still delights to surprise, let it 
 be our chief concern to have an interest in the 
 affections of the heart of that Saviour, who shall 
 destroy this last enemy, and give to his followers a 
 crown of glory changeless as his own.— On him may 
 g2 
 
130 LIFE OF SPENCER. partii. 
 
 we now both live by faith, that so when we have 
 served our generation according- to his will, we may 
 fall asleep in his arms. 
 
 " Adieu ! Yours affection atelv, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 The young lady to whom he refers in this letter, 
 appears to have been one of the seals to his early 
 ministry, and then at the point of death. One of the 
 letters written by him on that occasion, I am able 
 to lay before the reader. 
 
 Letter XXI. 
 TO MRS. 
 
 " Bear Madam, 
 
 " Both your letters were safely and 
 joyfully received by me. I say joyfully, because 
 they shew that God is putting honour upon my feeble 
 and unworthy labours, and making use of them for 
 your spiritual welfare— a circumstance that gives 
 me more real pleasure than any other circumstance 
 possibly could. You are much mistaken in sup- 
 posing that I neglected to write to you, because 
 you had in your letters said any thing improper ; 
 nothing could be more opposite to my ideas. Had 
 this been the case, I should have felt it my duty to 
 have set you right: but I can tell you what I can 
 tell my God, when I say that I never heard or read 
 an account of a young convert which appeared more 
 satisfactory, or filled me with more delight, than that 
 which you give me of yourself. I say this, not to 
 puff you up with spiritual pride, but to make you 
 more thankful that you have obtained mercy, and to 
 
chap hi. LIFE OF SPENCER. 131 
 
 assure you that your suspicions of any dissatisfac- 
 tion on my part are altogether groundless. Rather 
 would I exclaim, < what hath God wrought!' and 
 wrought too (well may I wonder) by his blessing 
 upon" my weak exertions. Oh! let the glory be 
 ascribed to him who gives testimony to the word of 
 his grace. The excuse I have to plead for not 
 writing to you before is, want of time and multipli- 
 city of engagements — for in the Academy my time 
 is not my own. I have just been writing a long 
 
 letter to Mrs. W , stating my views, wishes, 
 
 and hopes, for the welfare of her amiable and beloved 
 daughter. May she be resigned to the divine will, 
 and ready when the heavenly Bridegroom cometh ! 
 From all" that I can learn, I have no doubt of her 
 interest in the affections of that same Jesus who is 
 now, I trust, all your salvation, and all your desire. 
 When I recollect that she, a seal to my ministry, is 
 apparently going to join the heavenly musicians in 
 singing that song which no man can learn but the 
 redeemed, it is impossible to express my feelings. 
 I am very desirous to hear from her own lips an 
 account of the way in which the Lord met with her, 
 and a statement of the sensations of her mind in 
 prospect of the last conflict. I wished to come 
 down to see her — I asked permission. — This could 
 not be granted me, because I was given out last 
 Sabbath day at the place to which I am going. But 
 I have the happiness of informing you, that the next 
 Lord's day I shall preach at Roydon, and so shall 
 have an opportunity of going to Thundridge Bury 
 Farm. 1 hope that our covenant God is leading 
 you in a plain path, and teaching you more of the 
 corruption of your own heart and the love of Christ, 
 by his Holy Spirit, All I can recommend you to 
 do is, to be much engaged in secret prayer to him. 
 Oh ! aim to get near to him in holy communion, then 
 you will find a heaven begun below. You will have 
 
132 LIFE OF SPENCER. PART «• 
 
 Christ for your constant companion, and yon will 
 obtain the desire of your heart. I view this as the 
 time of your first love. May the zealous affection 
 for Christ which i hope you now discover, increase 
 yet more and more. Live by faith upon the Son of 
 God, who loved you, and gave himself for you. 
 Commit your soul into his hands^ and the souls of 
 all the members of your family. It is my earnest 
 prayer, that you may grow in grace, and in the 
 knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ ; 
 that so I may have to rejoice that you received the 
 Gospel when delivered by me, as in deed and in 
 truth the word of God and not of man. As for your 
 request about a settlement for me at Roydon, I 
 should recommend you not to expect it : I am 
 always happy to come amongst you as an occasional 
 supply, but I must venture no further. I have a 
 variety of reasons for not considering it my duty to 
 settle with any congregation as yet, or even to think 
 of it, and I have thus far not engaged to do so at 
 Roydon : therefore I must request you not merely 
 to check, but actually to eradicate, the thought. 
 Wishing you — your respected partner — and all your 
 family, the best of blessings, I remain, 
 " Your's sincerely, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER.* 
 
 Had he then been sufficiently advanced in his 
 studies to have cherished the idea of an immediate 
 settlement — and had he been left to the free, unbi- 
 assed expression of his feelings — there is no spot on 
 which he would have fixed as the scene of his stated 
 and pastoral .labours, in preference to a village so 
 tranquil and retired as Roydon. He did not value 
 popularity, except as it afforded him an opportunity 
 •f doing good. No one ever was more averse to 
 
cthap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 133 
 
 pomp or to parade. He loved simplicity in all its 
 forms. It was indeed a characteristic feature of 
 himself; and had not the prospect of more exten- 
 sive usefulness allured him to a wider and more 
 public sphere, his passion for retirement would have 
 guided him in his selection of a residence for life. 
 
 Talking with him on the subject of his health, 
 which seemed declining, beneath the pressure of so 
 much exertion, his friend said, ironically, — " Do 
 you wish to be early laid aside — or do you desire a 
 premature grave r " Oh no," said he, " you know 
 my wish — to have a meeting in the country, sur- 
 rounded by trees— occasionally to see the shadows 
 of the leaves quivering on the walls, in the reflection 
 of the setting sun. — A burial ground near, in which 
 I and my people can together lie !* To live a long, 
 honourable, and useful life, bringing many souls to 
 the Saviour.- — This is the summit of my wishes." 
 Though it was denied him to enjoy ike first, the last 
 
 * May I be indulged in another extract from the poems of Kirke 
 White? It was a passage which Spencer often read with peculiar 
 emphasis, and seems a melancholy comment on his own ideas. 
 
 " Beneath this yew I would be sepulchred. 
 It is a lov jly spot ! The sultry sun, 
 From his meridian height, endeavours vainly 
 To pierce the shadowy foliage ;" 
 
 " 'Tis a nook 
 Most pleasant." 
 
 " Yet may not undistinguish'd be my grave ; 
 
 But there at eve may some congenial soul 
 
 Duly resort, and shed a pious tear, 
 
 The good man's benizon— no more I ask. 
 
 And oh! (if heavenly beings may look down 
 
 From where with Cherubim, inspir'd, they sit, 
 
 Upon this little dim disco ver'd spot, 
 
 The earth,) then will I cast a glance below 
 
 On him who thus my ashes shall embalm." 
 
 " Wishing he may not long be doom'd to pine 
 In this low-thoughted world of darkling woe ; 
 But that, ere long, he reach his kindred skies." 
 
134 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 
 
 object of his desire, and by far the most important 
 and dearest to his heart, he did possess ; for never 
 was so short a ministry honoured by the conversion 
 of so many souls. Every week, in Liverpool, dis- 
 closes some fresh instances of its success— and one 
 and another is perpetually rising- up to say — " By 
 the grace of God I am what I am, but it was the 
 ministry of Spencer that led me first a humble 
 suppliant to the throne of mercy,"* 
 
 The situation of young ministers is peculiarly de- 
 licate and dangerous. The eyes not only of the 
 religious public, but also of the world, are fixed on 
 them. And it is to be deplored, that where they 
 have a right to expect the greatest kindness, they 
 often meet with an undue severity. Those who 
 ought to be the first to throw the mantle of love over 
 their defects, are not unfreqnently the most forward 
 and exulting in their exposure. To an unhappy 
 and inordinate love of scandal, many a fair and un- 
 blemished reputation has fallen the victim. The 
 scattered wrecks by which they are surrounded, 
 should inspire succeeding voyagers with caution. 
 There is a cheerfulness, compatible with the most 
 fervent piety; and there is a levity, in which the 
 dignity of the minister and the sanctity of the Chris- 
 tian, may alike be lost. Where this is witnessed, 
 whatever claim the individual may have upon the 
 
 * Nor is it in Liverpool alone that testimonies to the usefulness of his 
 ministry are thus occurring We hear of them from rari»us parts 
 of the country where the providence of God has fixed the lot of many 
 to whom his ministry was blest while in Liverpool. The Rev. Mr. 
 Haslock, of Kentish Town, near London, was lately called to visit a 
 serious man, in a consumption. In the course of conversation the 
 name of Spencer was mentioned. " Spencer, sir," said the dying 
 man, " what, did you know Mr. Spencer, of Liverpool?" " Yes." 
 " Why sir, under God, he was the means of my salvation. I was a 
 journeyman taylor, and used to travel from town to town for work. 
 I went to Liverpool, and went with the crowd to hear him, — and 
 there God met with me." The poor man, soon after, died, happy in 
 the Lord. 
 
chap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 133 
 
 generosity and lenity of the spectators, he has none 
 upon their justice — tbey have a right to censure, — ■ 
 and however we may deprecate their severity, — none 
 can deny them its exercise. And here it is perhaps 
 that students are most exposed to danger. Fa- 
 tigued and wasted by the close application and 
 intense thought of many studious weeks, they enter, 
 as they imagine, the circle of friendship, and instantly 
 relax. Those who only see the effect, and are un- 
 acquainted with its cause, hastily form an unfavour- 
 able opinion of their character, and cruelly propagate 
 the opinion they have rashly formed.* 'These obser- 
 vations are not altogether inappropriate to the sub- 
 ject of the following letter. 
 
 Letter XXII. 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 
 
 " Hoxton College, October 27, 1809. 
 
 u My dear Friend, 
 
 " The expressions of affection your 
 last letter, all your letters, and the whole strain of 
 your conduct towards me evince, greatly affect me, 
 and you will find my feelings upon the subject in 
 Proverbs, chap, xxvii. verse 19. Sanctified friend- 
 
 * I remember a case in point upon this subject— the mention of 
 which may not be useless. A student from one of our academies 
 had been spending some days with a pious and intelligent gentleman 
 in the country, who was in the habit of having the servants of Christ 
 beneath his hospitable roof. On his departure, the gentleman 
 accompanied his guest seme miles on his read, and in the course of 
 conversation said — "•' I cannot forbear expressing to you, Sir, the 
 satisfaction which I have enjoyed in your society. I must confess 
 that I have been too often grieved by the levity of students, whom yet 
 I have highly valued ; but whilst ycu have displayed a cheerfulness 
 which has enlivened cur circle, you have preserved an uniform respect 
 to your sacred office, which has secured the esteem and admiration of 
 us all." 
 
136 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ir. 
 
 ship appears to me to be one of the best sweets in 
 the cup of life. It. is what the Saviour recommended 
 by his own example, and what the best of men have 
 experienced beneficial in every age. May this kind 
 of friendship be exemplified in us, and may we mu- 
 tually share in the affections of the heart of Him, 
 who, ' having loved his own which were in the world, 
 loved them unto the end.' To his will in all things 
 we must bow, and in his dispensations, however 
 contrary to our inclination, .acquiesce ; but, 'not 
 my will, but thine be done,' is language which 
 requires a large degree of grace to use in all cases, 
 and from the bottom of our hearts. 
 
 " Many eyes are indeed upon me, and much do 
 I fear that they will see something in me ere long 
 that will take them from me. Your warnings are 
 faithful, but my heart is still deceitful, and Satan 
 may, for any thing I know, be about to sift me as 
 wheat. You are not ignorant of his devices. Oh! 
 then, pray for me, that my faith fail not, so that in- 
 stead of the number of those who behold me turning 
 away from me with disgust and aversion, they may 
 rather glorify God in me, and take knowledge of 
 me that I have been with Jesus. The thought that 
 affords me some degree of encouragement is, that 
 Jehovah knoweth my path, and that he is able to 
 make me stand, yea, to remove the suspicions of 
 those who 'fear and wait to see.' But really I 
 cannot help thinking that there are some people in 
 the world who seem as if they wished for something to 
 hinder one's usefulness; and who, by their too signi- 
 ficant expressions on the subject, lead me to suppose 
 that they would rejoice in such a circumstance, and 
 say, ' Oh ! so would we have it.' And why? Be- 
 cause then their clever prophecies would be fulfilled, 
 and we should for the future put such confidence in 
 their forebodings as to view them as certain omens 
 of ill events. I do hope, however, that God will in 
 
• CHAP. Hi. LiFE OF SPENCEK. 137 
 
 great mercy either keen me from the snares that lie 
 in my way, or take me to himself. 
 
 " I have to day written to the Kidderminster 
 people, referring them to the Doctor, or Mr. Wil- 
 son. I will try and be with you to-morrow by 
 twelve o'clock. Do not be disappointed if I should 
 not be able. 
 
 " I remain vour's affectionately, 
 
 * " THOMAS SPENCER* 
 
 On Sunday the 5th of November he was appoint- 
 ed to preach at Cambridge, in the pulpit lately oc- 
 cupied by the Rev. Robert Hall, A. M. a name 
 dear to genius, as to religion. The day following 
 he spent in viewing the University. In a letter 
 dated the 3d he says, " last night my surprise 
 was excited by seeing that I am not appointed on 
 the list for any place in town, but for Cambridge, 
 I am to stay Monday over at Cambridge, to look 
 at the colleges, &c. I shall think much of Kirke 
 White;" and, aware of the respectability, both in 
 wealth and talent, of the congregation he was called 
 to address, he adds, " the Lord make me prudent 
 and faithful; may it appear that he has some good 
 end to answer by conducting me thither." 
 
 He was exceedingly attached to the poetry of 
 Henry Kirke White. He could repeat a great 
 part of it, and frequently quoted it with great em- 
 phasis and feeling. " And yet," said he, in con- 
 versation with the friend to whom these letters are 
 addressed, " there is a thirst for fame sometimes 
 discovered which pains me. 
 
 ' Fifty years hence, and who will hear of Henry V 
 
 " Well, suppose nobody does, and what then? If 
 Henry has served his day and generation, and is 
 gone to glory, neither the church nor he will be 
 
138 LIFE OP SPENCER. PART «• 
 
 losers; and th<* bearing of Henry will be too small 
 a consideration to be brought into the account." 
 
 Public as Spencer's life had now become, and 
 exposed as he was to the influence of every unholy 
 passion which popularity might awaken, he \ et main- 
 tained a close and humble walk with God. He 
 courted solitude, and for the best of purposes. Of 
 him it may be truly said, 'his fellowship was with 
 the Father, and with his son Jesus Christ.' The 
 holy and the heavenly tone his mind received in those 
 retired hours, gave a peculiar unction to his ministry; 
 and the knowledge Which, by deep communion with 
 his own heart and constant intercourse with God, 
 he had obtained, rendered his preaching- remarkably 
 profitable to believers, and gave him a skill in ad- 
 ministering instructions adapted to all the varieties 
 of their experience. Of this, the following is a 
 pleasing- specimen. 
 
 Letter XXIII. 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 
 
 " November 9, 1809. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " Be assured that I, as well as your- 
 self, have walked in darkness, and complained that 
 there was no light. Fluctuations in experience are, 
 I am sure, my lot, whilst my only consolation in such 
 circumstances still remains — 'tis the unchangeable- 
 ness of Christ. Oh! what is so calculated to re- 
 concile our minds to the way our Father calls us to 
 travel, as the recollection, that whilst we are found 
 in it, Jesus is the same, and that to the end of the 
 journey; and in every trying circumstance he is a 
 present help. In darkness he will enable us to trust 
 in the Lord, and to stay ourselves upon our God; 
 
0Hap.hi. LIFE OF SPENCER. 139 
 
 yea, he will cheer our desponding- souls with visi- 
 tation sweet. Seasons in which we experience 
 darkness of mind, and depression of soul, are ne- 
 cessary; they form the analogy between us and those 
 who through tribulation are gone to heaven: they 
 render us fit subjects for the illuminating and re- 
 freshing grace of Christ ; they add a higher relish 
 to the renewed enjoyment of the light and liberty of 
 the Gospel; and they serve to prepare us for that 
 world where the Lord shall be our everlasting light, 
 and our God our glory. 
 
 " Reflecting upon deliverance from such times of 
 depression should teach us to say — ' Return unto 
 thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt boun- 
 tifully with thee.' It should lead us to anticipate 
 future favours, and rejoice that he that hath deli- 
 vered us can and will deliver ; and since the day has 
 dawned, and the shadows have tied away, we should 
 most cordially adore Him who has been appointed 
 to give light to them who sit in darkness,, and to 
 guide our feet into the way of peace. May you and 
 I ever enjoy the presence of Jesus, our best friend; 
 share in his tender smypathy ; his kind reproofs ; 
 his excellent counsels. May he be. our God for 
 ever and ever, and our guide even unto death. 
 Then we need fear no evil. If sensible that He is 
 with us, we may pass through midnight glooms, and 
 experience a season of great darkness, and yet look 
 forward to a future time, when with pleasure we 
 shall sing, * The Lord is my light, of whom shall I 
 be afraid V Oh that I may be enabled to commit 
 your soul and my own into the hands of Jesus a$ 
 unto a faithful creator. I can now add no more, 
 than to say that 
 
 " I remain affectionately your's, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER.'' 
 
149 LIFE OF SPENCER. rA ™ »* 
 
 The next letter furnishes another proof of his hu- 
 mility and diffidence. It was written the day before 
 it became his turn to preach in the chapel at Hox- 
 ton the Thursday evening lecture, which the tutors 
 and students usually attend. 
 
 Letter XXIV. 
 TO MR. HADDOK". 
 
 " December 6, 1809. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 "lam sensible that Mr. S.'s polite- 
 ness * merits much of us, and if I must name some 
 day for us to meet there it must be Monday next. 
 This we will speak of to-morrow evening. I am 
 sorry you have been so busy about so worthless an 
 object as myself. I need not say, pray especially 
 for me, that a divine blessing may attend me to- 
 morrow evening in preaching before those whom 
 you know I too much dread as hearers. — ' The Lord 
 grant unto his servant, that with all boldness he may 
 speak his word.' I trust your desire and expecta- 
 tion of obtaining good on Friday evening will be 
 gratified. My mind is rather more composed than 
 it has ever been before, when I have had to preach 
 here on the Thursday evening. How it will be 
 when the time comes, I know not. Many eyes are 
 upon me, and different, very different, are the feel- 
 ings with which my brethren hear me. But if the 
 head of the church gives"*each of them a blessing, 
 they will I hope be satisfied. 
 
 " Yours affectionate] v, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER."- 
 
 It is indeed much to be regretted, that any feel- 
 
«hap in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 14l 
 
 ings but those of mutual affection, forbearance, aud 
 candour, should be cherished in the hearts of breth-' 
 ren— and such surely are the students in the same 
 academy. But in the present imperfect state of 
 our nature, it must be expected, that superior ex- 
 cellence, while it is the object of universal admiration 
 abroad, will, in too many instances, be exposed to 
 the malignant glance of envy and of jealousy at 
 home. And when the scourge of criticism is sup- 
 plied with knots by these, who but must expect to 
 smart beneath its strokes ? It is certainly to the 
 honour of the institution to which Mr. Spencer be- 
 longed, that its members for the most part knew, 
 admired, and confessed his worth; — and if there 
 were any exceptions — let them remain in that obli- 
 vion in which is their best security.* But the solemn 
 admonition of his early death, should tend to check 
 the bitter exercise of that unhallowed sarcasm by 
 which the rise of extraordinary usefulness or genius 
 is too frequently assailed. In academies of religion 
 and literature, where the avowed object of every 
 student is, not his individual advancement, but the 
 glory of God, a spirit of detraction and envy ought 
 to be unknown. The most devoted and useful, 
 should be most esteemed. Every private interest 
 should be lost in the general welfare of the church 
 of Christ. One may behold, indeed, with less con- 
 cern, the strokes of satire, when they fall upon the 
 arrogant, the presumptuous, and the vain; — but 
 
 * " Those who admire and cherish rising talent, can have no bitter 
 reflections when they contemplate the grave of Spencer. They 
 hailed his entrance into public life, and strengthened his hands by their 
 prayers and their approbation. Those w ho could envy him, (and such 
 I know there were) must be covered with merited shame, when they 
 behold him so early stript of those honours, talents, advantages, and 
 successes, which exposed him to their jealousy and malignity. If 
 these unworthy men were before me, I would ' speak daggers to 
 them, but use none.' "—See Styles's Funeral Sermon for the Rev, 
 T. Spencer, page 28. 
 
142 LIFE OP SPENCER. WW u. 
 
 when talents are attended by humility — when popu- 
 larity is connected with diffidence — and when extra- 
 ordinary displays of genius are mingled with eminent 
 piety, — to such an object the severity of sarcasm is 
 improperly directed, and every well regulated mind 
 must contemplate its exercise with pain. 
 
 About this time his health again declined. A 
 severe cold for some days deprived him of his voice 
 —and he was compelled to rest one Sabbath from his 
 public work. What were his feelings in prospect 
 of that Sabbath, this letter will declare. 
 
 Letter XXV. 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 
 
 " December, 16,1809. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 ■' It appears that your suspicions 
 that I should preach three times to-morrow, will not, 
 cannot be realized ; for Mr. Western, as well as 
 those around me are agreed, that I must not go to 
 Hertford at all, judging it dangerous forme to go 
 out, much more so to preach. Yesterday 1 passed 
 a miserable day. The thought of the pain of mind 
 the letter I sent home would occasion to my friends, 
 hurt me much, and I was much worse than I had 
 been before, as my lungs and throat felt more in- 
 flamed. To-day I think I am better, but still very 
 far from well. I can scarcely bear the prospect of 
 a silent Sabbath. I think I shall be quite out of 
 my element to-morrow. Oh ! that I did but more 
 firmly believe, that he who is my Saviour does all 
 things well, and that he who sustains the dread cha- 
 racter of Judge of all the earth, must do right. If 
 I. am able, I shall hear Mr. Hordle in the morning. 
 I have no voice yet. I hope it is not irretrievably 
 
ch a r. hi. 1AFE OF S P E N C E R . 148 
 
 lost. I need not say, that if you can call this even- 
 ing it will give me unspeakable pleasure. 
 " Yours affectionately, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Reflecting on tins temporary indisposition in a let- 
 ter to his father, he says, — " I have reason to hope 
 that the measure of affliction with which our hea- 
 venly Father thought fit to visit me, has been made 
 a blessing to my soul. It gave me time for reflec- 
 tion and close self-examination. It gave a new 
 zest to my feelings, and when it was removed, I hope 
 I was inspired with fresh ardour to live for the glory 
 of God." 
 
 Amid the constant bus-tie of a public life, the 
 retirement which temporary indisposition affords, 
 must be most beneficial to a pious mind. Then it 
 can relax into a calm and intimate communion with 
 itself. It can quietly indulge in such a review of the 
 past — and such an anticipation of the future, as will 
 tend not a little, under the sanctifying influence of 
 the holy Spirit, to curb its impetuosity — correct its 
 levity — and regulate its principles. From the cham- 
 ber of sickness, the exercises of the pulpit will be 
 furnished with materials of the highest order ; and 
 the beds of the diseased will be attended with a sym- 
 pathy, which experience of similar affliction only 
 can excite. 
 
 The greater part of the Christmas vacation Mr. 
 Spencer spent at Brighton, and on the first day of 
 the yearlSLO, he preached at the Rev. Mr. Styles's 
 chapel, to young people, from II. Chronicles, chap, 
 xxxiv. verses 27, 28, * Because thine heart was 
 tender, and thou didst humble thyself before God, 
 when thou heardest his words against this place, 
 .and against the inhabitants thereof j and humble dst 
 
144 LIFE OF SPENCER* pabt-h. 
 
 thyself before me, and didst rend thy clothes and 
 weep before me ; I have K3ven heard thee also, saith 
 the Lord, Behold I will gather thee to thy fathers, 
 and thou shalt be gathered to thy grave in peace. 
 Neither shall thine eyes see all the evil that I will 
 bring upon this place, and upon the inhabitants of 
 the same/ 
 
 The good seed which he was the instrument of 
 scattering in Brighton, very rapidly sprang up. In 
 a letter to his father, written immediately on his re- 
 turn from thence, and dated January 12th, 1810, he 
 says, " a young person who heard me at Mr. Styles's 
 last year, was called by divine grace under my in- 
 strumentality, and died before I went this time, bear- 
 ing an honourable testimony to the religion of Jesus, 
 and to her interest in it. Oh! what hath God 
 wrought!" 
 
 During his stay at Brighton, he had occasion to 
 solicit a favour of his friend in London, the perform- 
 ance of which was acknowledged in the following- 
 letter* 
 
 Letter XXVI, 
 TO MR. HADDON. 
 
 " Brighton, January 1st, 1809, 
 
 r< My dear Friend, 
 
 *■* However you may smile at the 
 idea of my writing you * a letter of thanks,' I assure 
 you I think you have a claim upon it, for you have 
 done for me what I should have liked few others to 
 have done ; but suffice it to say, it came safe to hand. 
 Last Thursday evening I preached on Luke, chap, 
 xxiv. verse 32, Yesterday morning at the Coun- 
 tess's, oh Ephesians, chap. ii. verse 14. In the 
 evening at Mr. Styles's; it being the close of th* 
 
•hap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 145 
 
 year, on Exodus, chap, xxiii. verse 20. To-night 
 I shall only preach* as one minister will commence, 
 and another close with prayer. It is said that I 
 shall preach at the chapel on Thursday evening". 
 You ask me, where I shall be next Sabbath. Many 
 advise me to remain at Brighton ; but it is my pre- 
 sent intention to return home on the Friday, though 
 I really feel myself in a difficulty about it. I hope I 
 have, since I have been at this place, enjoyed the 
 divine blessing — those with whom I associate are 
 the excellent of the earth — with no others have I any 
 occasion to be at all connected. In this respect I 
 am like your good friend Mr. Hill of Westminster. 
 We certainly do not in general sufficiently estimate 
 the worth of the society of those who discover the 
 mind that was in Christ; — great is the benefit we- 
 may derive from their company. Oh! let those of 
 us who fear the Lord speak often with one another; 
 one may thus come at each other's follies, and sti- 
 mulate each other to the performance of that good, 
 acceptable, and perfect will of God. I think my 
 cold is getting better. After I had preached last 
 night, a valuable young Scotch clergyman, who 
 was there wished I might live to preach many such 
 sermons. — What could I say, but ' all the days of 
 my appointed time will I wait till my change come.' 
 It is a great satisfaction to know, that we are train- 
 ing up for heaven, and ' ripening apace for the vi- 
 sion of God/ Pray for me, that this perseverance 
 may be given to me. You know my object is the 
 glory of God in the good of souls — that this may be 
 accomplished, by my exertions, is my prayer, my 
 hope, my aim. Whether living or dying, may we 
 be the Lord's. I have, however, at present no other 
 idea, than that I shall be spared yet, and not die, 
 but live and declare the works of the Lord:* Wish- 
 
 * Alas ! how blind are we to futurity ! A clergyman not long since, 
 H 
 
146 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ir. 
 
 ing you the enjoyment of the good-will of Him that 
 dwelt in the bush, and assuring- you of my steady 
 attachment. 
 
 " I remain yours affectionately, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 On Wednesday the 28th of February, being the 
 day appointed for a general fast, Mr. Spencer 
 preached a sermon at Hoxton chapel, adapted to 
 the occasion. His text was Ezekiel, chap. ix. 
 verse 4, * Go through the midst of the city^ through 
 the midst of Jerusalem, and set a mark upon the 
 men that sigh and cry for all the abominations that 
 are done in the midst thereof.' The general scope 
 and style of this sermon may be ascertained by the 
 following extract from the communication of his 
 friend: — 
 
 "A minister said to me, ' I dont know how a 
 good fast sermon can be preached, without touch- 
 ing upon politicks,' — -*■ If you will hear Spencer to- 
 morrow, I think you will find that it can be done.' 
 When we, met again, he told me he had heard an 
 excellent fast sermon, without a word upon politicks. 
 I remember that in that sermon he said, * when your 
 ear is pained with oathsand imprecations as you pass 
 the street, remember that that swearer is your fel- 
 low countryman, calling for vengeance upon your 
 country, and do you, by ejaculatory prayer, strive 
 to avert it. 5 " 
 
 To enter into a minute detail of the places at 
 which Mr. Spencer preached between this. period 
 
 while uttering these very words in the pulpit, suddenly turned pale — 
 his voice faultered — he fell back and expired. Little did the amiable 
 Spencer think, that the hand which thus conveyed to his friend the 
 pleasing anticipation of a long and useful life, should lie so soon io 
 {he impotence of death ! 
 
e-BAP.in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 147 
 
 and the ensuing vacation, would be useless. Suffice 
 it to say, that his labours were unremitting — that 
 he visited several congregations in the country — - 
 particularly those at Hertford, Reading, Henley \ 
 and Brighton. 
 
 He was appointed one of the three students who 
 should deliver the public orations at the coining 
 Anniversary — hekl at Midsummer. This preyed 
 with considerable anxiety upon his mind, and al- 
 though one should have imagined that by this time 
 he had become familiar with large auditories and 
 critical hearers — yet we find him shrinking from the 
 task-, and expressing many fears respecting it. The 
 subject allotted to him was, " The influence of 
 the Gospel on the spirit and temper." 
 His colleagues in that trying service were, Messrs. 
 John Burder and Stenner; and to these gentlemen 
 were given as topics of discussion, " The doc- 
 trine OF THE ATONEMENT," and " THE INFLU- 
 ENCE OF THE HOLY Spirit." The day before 
 that on which the discourses were to be delivered, 
 he expressed liis feelings thus: — 
 
 Letter XXVIL 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 
 
 " Hoxton, June 19, 1810. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " Consonant with your request, I 
 here transmit to you the notes of the sermon on 
 Eutychus : if you can, let me have them again be- 
 fore I go into Lancashire. You mention to-morrow, 
 and oh ! what anxiety do I feel in the prospect of it; 
 already it has cost me some tears, it may cost me 
 many more. Would to God that I may experience 
 the assisting grace of Him who has before proved 
 
148 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 
 
 himself able to do for me exceeding abundantly 
 above all that I could ask or think. " If the light 
 of His countenance shine upon me, then I shall 
 shine in the sight of Heaven, and in the eyes of his 
 saints, who know and can recognise the reflections 
 of the Saviour's glory."* From what I can antici- 
 pate of the congregation, it will be terrific ; but does 
 not the promise ' I am with you always,' extend to 
 particular occasions ? Most certainly it does ; then 
 it takes in this trying service. May I have faith, 
 and trust in it, and be favoured with an experimental 
 confirmation of its truth. Believing that you do 
 sincerely and constantly commend me to the kind 
 care of your Father and my Father, of your God 
 and my God, 
 
 " I remain, 
 
 " Affectionately yours, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 • This sentence requires explanation. It may seem as though he 
 wished to shine before the congregation — But he writes in allusion 
 to a wish which his friend had expressed in a letter written to him 
 the day before, that he might " shine in the eyes of Him who search- 
 «th the heart." In another letter, on the same occasion, he says, 
 ** Pray for me, that I may not disgrace the Institution." 
 
CHAP. IV. 
 
 Characteristic Sketchet. 
 
 WE now arrive at the period of Mr. Spencer's first 
 visit to Liverpool. .Before we pass on with him to 
 that new and interesting scene, it may be well to 
 pause, and take such a general view of his mode of 
 thinking and acting, while a student, as the follow- 
 ing characteristic sketches from the hand of his most 
 intimate friend, will furnish. I shall present them 
 in 'a miscellaneous way just as they occur. Thus 
 the reader will converse with him, — hear his own 
 sentiments, expressed in his own language, and im- 
 perceptibly become familiar with the man. 
 
 ** That passage/ said he, * is much upon my mind 
 — « Let no man despise thy youth.' I understand 
 the apostle thus : — Let your walk and conduct be 
 such, that no man can despise thy youth* And 
 such shall be my own." 
 
 " He was favoured with peculiar facility in com- 
 position. ' Many a sermon/ said he, ■ have I com- 
 posed between Hoxton and your house/ His ideas 
 flowed faster than he could write them, and when 
 alone our conversation has met with frequent inter- 
 ruption from his stopping to commit to paper, before 
 they escaped him, the ideas crossing his mind. 
 Turning to me privately, as I sat by his side one 
 evening at the tea-table of a friend, * Look at that/ 
 
150 LIFE OP SPENCER. **«* "• 
 
 said he, ' will it do V It was the sketch of a ser- 
 mon, which he had composed during the conversa- 
 tion. ' I don't know,' said he, (and those who sup- 
 pose my friend was boasting-, did not know him) ' I 
 don't know,' said he, * that for a long time I have 
 fead time enough for any one sermon ; I was cramp t 
 in every head for want of time.' His sermons at 
 that time were sixty-five minutes to seventy-five in 
 preaching, though his hearers were not aware of it." 
 
 " In composing, he used to fold a sheet of fools- 
 cap paper in eight leaves, leaving the last side for 
 the heads of application. However long the sermon 
 might be, he never wrote more of it; and in preach- 
 ing, varied the sermon every time he preached it. 
 ' How do you obtain your texts?' *■ I keep a little 
 book in which I enter every text of scripture which 
 comes into my mind with power and sweetness. 
 Were I to dream of a passage of scripture, I should 
 enter it; and when I sit down to compose, I look 
 over the book, and have never found myself at a loss 
 for a subject." 
 
 "His memory was remarkably tenacious; lie 
 could regularly repeat every service in which he had 
 ever engaged, with the chapter which he had read,, 
 and the names of those of his acquaintance who were 
 present. Returning from Holloway, after preach- 
 ing, said he, * Did you perceive any thing particular 
 in me this morning V * No.' c I was very ill in the 
 pulpit ; my memory totally forsook me ; I could not 
 recollect my subject, but having my notes in my 
 pocket, I took them out and read them J ' I am, 
 glad of it; I give you joy; you can no longer con- 
 demn assistance to an imperfect memory.' * O no, 
 I boast no more ; from henceforth I am silent upon, 
 that subject." 
 
€hap. ir. LIFE OF SPENCER. 151 
 
 " The young- man that has just passed my study 
 door,' said he, * is fearful that he shall not keep up 
 variety in his sermons. The best way that I find to 
 attain variety is continually to ask myself, ' What is 
 there in the circumstances before me, that will be- 
 nefit my sermon on Sabbath morning?' for a minister 
 should turn every thing into gold. And by keeping 
 my eye continually upon that point, I am seldom at 
 a loss for variety." 
 
 " Few persons have held pulpit eloquence ia 
 higher estimation than Spencer did, or in more con- 
 tempt when it stood in competition with the interest 
 of souls. I remember asking his opinion of an elo- 
 quent sermon which he had been hearing — * Why,* 
 said he, ' I could have wept oyer it — I could have 
 wept to hear immortals so treated." 
 
 " Your morning sermon yesterday was approved, 
 but not that in the afternoon.' * No, I suppose 
 .not, and I will give you the reason. In the morn- 
 ing, when I preached on privileges, they were 
 pleased; but when, in the afternoon, I came to 
 duties, they remembered their treatment of their late 
 venerable pastor. I particularly respect aged mi- 
 nisters, and love to assist them, and generally add 
 a trifle to the collection, when I have been preach- 
 ing in behalf of a church which has an aged mi- 
 nister." 
 
 " He was much tried by the envy of some little 
 
 minds. 'Mr. S.' said —to him,' You was 
 
 very late, I hear, at Walworth.' ' Yes, Sir, and there 
 you may see your own error ; you know you say I 
 am too eager for the pulpit, now you see your mis- 
 take.' At another time, ' Spencer,' said a person 
 whose name shall be secret, ' Popularity is a dan- 
 gerous thing.' ' It is.' ' No one is popular long/ 
 
152 LIFE OF SPENCEB. 'art n. 
 
 * Very true/ 'You are popular now, but you will 
 not be so long.' ' That I certainly shall not, Sir, if 
 your toishes are accomplished; but I fully believe, 
 that my popularity hurts you more than it does me.' 
 The bell soon after summoned him to read (in his 
 turn) a sermon for general criticism. The first per- 
 son called upon said, that its merits were sjach, that 
 be had nothing to say of its dejects. That senti- 
 ment was universal. ' And,' said he to me after- 
 wards, ' when 1 considered what had passed, I felt 
 that that was a moment of gratification." 
 
 ** A lady, who had misunderstood an idea in 
 his sermon, wrote me a hasty letter, charging him 
 with antinomianism, and me with gross impropri- 
 ety in hearing him. It was Saturday night, and 
 he was to preach in the same pulpit the next day. 
 I went to inform him of the circumstance, that 
 fee might take an unperceived opportunity of ex- 
 plaining himself. He held out his hand to give 
 his usual affectionate squeeze, when I drew back. 
 4 1 don't know how to shake hands with an an- 
 thaomian. f An antinomian ! What is the matter '{ 
 4 Read this proof of it.' He read it ; his pleasan- 
 try subsided ; and with a countenance which spoke 
 the feelings of his noble soul, ' O,' said he, « this 
 letter does me good. — The attention of that congre- 
 gation would have led me to suppose that they were 
 pleased, and perhaps profited by what they heard ; 
 and yet you see, that there were those present who 
 not only misunderstood me, but supposed that I 
 was a preacher of antinomianism. This letter does 
 me good; for sometimes Satan claps me on the 
 back, here in my study, and says, ' That sermon 
 will do very well, and especially from one so young 
 as you' — and then I begin to mount, and fancy that 
 I am somebody ; but such a letter as this clips my 
 wings — and then/ said he, with indescribable ex- 
 
chap. it. LIFE OF SPENCER. H5$ 
 
 pression, ■ I drop into my place,— -the dust. Do 
 bring me all the intelligence of this kind that you 
 can." 
 
 M One day, mentioning- to him an interesting text 
 of Mr. Cecil's, preached on the last night of the 
 year, said he, ■ That will just do for me to preach 
 at Brighton, to conclude the services of the present 
 year. But don't shew me Mr. Cecil's till I have 
 composed mine. I would not borrow a single idea." 
 
 " Preaching one morning at Hoxton, after he had 
 prayed as usual at his entrance into the pulpit, I 
 missed him; he bent forward for a considerable time 
 so low, that I could scarcely perceive him from the 
 gallery.- When I afterwards asked him if any thing- 
 ailed him, said he, ' When I went into the pulpit, 
 and saw that crowded audience, recollecting that 
 they were all looking to me for instruction, and 
 remembering my own youth and inexperience, I 
 was overwhelmed, and leaning forward, implored 
 more earnestly the divine assistance/ " 
 
 " While preaching at Jewin street, he one after- 
 noon took the two lower steps at once, in ascending 
 the pulpit stairs. — When we afterwards met, I asked, 
 ' Did you notice the manner of your going into the 
 pulpit?' ' I did, and thought that you would also 
 — it was inadvertent ; but it was wrong. It did not 
 become the solemnity of the place. — I never remem- 
 ber such a circumstance before, and will be more 
 guarded in future.' As a proof of the necessity of 
 his watchfulness over the minutiae of his actions, I 
 mention that an aged Christ an said to me some time 
 afterwards, * I loved Spencer's sermons ; but there 
 was a lightness about him.' — ' A lightness ! when ? 
 and where did he discover it?' ' At our meeting, 
 ift jumping up the ptripit stairs.' ' Did you see it 
 h2 
 
154 LIFE OF SPENCER. ? AR * **♦ 
 
 more than once?' * No.' ' Then I can tell you„ 
 that that once he felt and lamented it as deeply as 
 you could ; and I am sure that he never repeated it. 
 Is not that satisfactory V * It is.' 
 
 " Spencer followed Cecil ; he united deep humi- 
 lity with true ministerial dignity ; nor do I conceive 
 it possible for a youth to be less affected by popu- 
 larity than he was; and as to flattery, if his flatterers 
 had known the light in which he viewed them, they 
 would have been silent. Coming from a vestry, 
 where adulation had been offered — ' Don't fear for 
 me/ said he, '■ on account of what has passed; it 
 was too weak to hurt : my danger is, when those* 
 on whose judgment I depend, speak unguardedly.' 
 At another time, after a young man had been very 
 lavish in his praises, (who had several times been 
 guilty of the same impropriety), I told him I thought 
 the next time he addressed himself to me, I should 
 give him a hint of it. ' O no,' said he, '• treat it with, 
 the same contempt that I do. To mention it, would 
 give too much importance to his judgment. I 
 would not have him think that his judgment could 
 do any harm* " 
 
 " 'This mode of life, and Mrs. Alexander's kind- 
 ness,' (said he, at Dorking) ' is very pleasant to the 
 flesh. During the vacation, the kindness of friends 
 sometimes leads me to think that I am somebody. 
 But when I return to Hoxton, my fellow students 
 soon convince me that it was my mistake.' " 
 
 I*. Spencer was particularly happy in his choice of 
 texts for particular occasions ; * I feel great diffi- 
 culty,' said he, ' in preaching at Hertford, where I 
 have to address many who walked with God before 
 I was born. To-morrow will be the first Sabbath 
 that I have regularly supplied there. I have chosen 
 
chap. iv. LIFE OF SPENCER. 155 
 
 for my subject, Romans, chap. xvi. verse 7. In 
 which he shewed what it was to be in Christ ; and 
 the duties which aged Christians owe to younger 
 ones — faithful reproof and exhortation — prayer for 
 them, &c. For his sermon on regeneration, he 
 chose James, chap. i. verse 18, which, as he said, 
 comprised the whole subject; — the efficient cause 
 — f The will of God ;' the grand means used, — 
 * The word of truth ;' the great end in view — that 
 believers should be — ' First fruits of his creatures/ 
 A gentleman, who possesses a fine mind, said to 
 me, ' I had heard so much of Spencer, that when I 
 went to hear him, I expected to be disappointed; 
 but I found the reverse to be the case. When he 
 gave out his text, it was with an emphasis which so 
 forcibly laid open the apostle's argument, that my 
 attention was rivetted, and I was perfectly asto- 
 nished.' ." 
 
 " He loved to improve the festivals of the church, 
 such as Christmas and Easter, ' because' said he, 
 ' people expect then to hear upon the subject, and 
 I think we ought to meet every appearance of pre- 
 paration of mind with suitable instruction. The 
 passage of scripture which led my mind to the mi- 
 nistry, and which satisfies me as to the propriety of 
 my engaging in it, is that promise of God to the 
 Gentile church, Isaiah, chap. lxvi. verse 21. — Oh! 
 that text is very precious to me ; while the death of 
 
 Miss at Brighton, and Miss at , 
 
 tends to convince me that I am right.' Those ladies 
 died in the Lord, and were called under Spencer's 
 ministry." 
 
 " Returning from the country where he had been 
 preaching, I asked his subject : (he was then in trou- 
 ble) ' why,' said he, * I was sure that nothing would 
 suit my own feelings better than this, When my 
 
166 LIFE OF SPENCER. partii. 
 
 heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is 
 higher than I. I therefore hoped it might be liseml 
 to gome present/ He lived to know that it was 
 "blessed to the conversion of a servant of the clergy- 
 man of the parish." 
 
 " ' I have never yet,' said he, ' preached a ser- 
 mon which I had not felt, before I preached it; and 
 I pray that I never may.' " 
 
 " ' T used/ said he, ' to feel very much in preach- 
 ing before certain characters. My difficulty is now 
 removed by considering that, let them be as learned 
 or as pious as they may, it is probable that they have 
 not turned their attention to the individual point 
 before me so closely as I have, and therefore it is 
 likely that my sermon may afford some instruction 
 even to them, and this thought gives me courage/" 
 
 " Spencer's simplicity in dress was well known. 
 He avoided in that respect the very appearance of 
 evil, that his ministry might not be blamed. One 
 Sabbath morning, when he called for me, he had a 
 new coat on, which I told him I thought was more 
 fashionable than he would approve. ' I did not 
 know it/ said he, and on the next Sabbath morning, 
 he asked me if I thought it more becoming then : 
 he had had it altered/' 
 
 " I was desired by several medical gentlemen to 
 inform him, that unless he slackened his exertions, 
 Be could not live to see five and twenty. When I 
 mentioned it he said, * that it certainly must be 
 attended to, for that his hope was to live a long and 
 useful life/ He therefore determined to alter the 
 length of his sermons from an hour or sixty-five 
 minutes to forty-five/' 
 
«hap iv. Ln ? E OF SPENCER. 157 
 
 " ' I am going-/ said he, f to preach at Vauxhall 
 to-morrow, where you may come with a very safe 
 conscience. You need not he afraid of a large 
 congregation there. You do not like large congre- 
 gations for me ; but don't you remember how much 
 more encouragement and satisfaction the man has 
 who fishes in a pond which is full of fish, than he 
 who fishes in a place where he knows there are but 
 two or three.' " 
 
 " Before S. left the academy, a gentleman, whose 
 judgment, or piety, few are disposed to dispute, said 
 to me, ' If it were not for the sound of his voice, 
 with my eyes shut, I could suppose him a man of 
 seventy. He is ripening fast for heaven — I can 
 fancy him an angel, come down into the pulpit, 
 soon to return.' " 
 
 " On one of those interesting opportunities at 
 Jewin street, he had the following observation, which 
 was deeply impressed on the minds of some present: 
 ■ The apostle Paul was a great sufferer; he enu- 
 merates his afflictions, — yet what does he say of 
 them? — None of these things move me. But when 
 he speaks of in-dwelling corruption he cries out, 
 Oh! wretched man that I ami'" 
 
 M Another gentleman, possessed of undeniable 
 critical skii), and difficult to please, after he had 
 heard him, said, * I stood the whole service — and I 
 could have stood till midnight. I felt as under the 
 influence of a charm 1 could not resist, and was 
 metted to the spot, intent only upon the fascinating 
 object I saw before me.' " 
 
 " It was with sincere pity that be saw any young 
 minister descend from the holy dignity of his station, 
 by attention, as soon as the service was concluded, 
 
158 LIFE OF SPENCER. p *«* » 
 
 to the advances of females, who, had they really 
 received the benefit they professed, would have 
 shewn it in a very different way."* 
 
 " ' When that excellent woman, Mrs. Davies, late 
 of Kentish Town, was near dissolution, I took him/ 
 says his friend Mr. Haddon, * to see her. She was 
 quite overwhelmed at the sight of him. She had 
 heard him not long before. In that sermon, he 
 said, ' This prayer especially should be addressed 
 by aged Christians to the Saviour, — Abide with us, 
 for the shadows of a long evening are stretching out 
 upon us. Oh! abide with us; for with us it is to- 
 ward evening. She raised herself upon her sofa, 
 and after thanking him for his sermon, she begged 
 him to excuse the liberty she was about to take, 
 but that she was an old pilgrim, just finishing her 
 course, who had had much to do with ministers in 
 her day. She had seen some promising characters 
 rise and fall, and would just mention a few of the 
 dangers which lay before him, — which she did in a 
 most affecting manner. He wept much, and so in- 
 deed did all present. She afterwards implored the 
 divine blessing upon him, and upon his ministry .f 
 
 * This is to Mr. Spencer's honour. Those who are accustomed to 
 attend the vestries in London, after the sermons of popular preachers, 
 will enter into the meaning of this observation. It would be well, if 
 some, wham it may concern, would also take the hint it affords. - 
 
 t When this venerable saint first came to Kentish Town, .it was 
 utterly destitute of the Gospel She applied to the Coumess of Hun- 
 tingdon., who sent her supplies. She took a room, held a prayer 
 meeting — and persevered in prayer and exertion till a chapel was 
 built. She still, however, had one desire unfulfilled— it was, to see 
 a minister settled there. This she was permitted to witness in the' 
 person of the Rev Mr, Haslock. the present minister ; and then, like 
 good old Simeon — she departed in peace. Let her example encourage 
 others. — Who hath despised the day of small things ? 
 
CHAP. V. 
 
 Hfs visit to Liverpool. — He receives an unanimous call to the pastoral 
 office. — Expresses his acceptance of the call, and takes a final leave 
 of his friends in London and its neighbourhood. * 
 
 MR. SPENCER was appointed by the committee 
 to spend the Midsummer vacation in this year (1810) 
 at Newington chapel, Liverpool, then destitute of 
 a pastor, by the death of the Rev. David Bruce. 
 The report of his extraordinary talents and amazing 
 popularity had already, from various quarters, 
 reached that place. And the congregation amongst 
 whom he was, for a few weeks to labour, had some 
 pleasing expectations,, that they might find in him a 
 future pastor, every way qualified for the important 
 sphere of usefulness, which so large and populous a 
 town presented. But on the mind of Mi\ Spencer 
 far other impressions had been unhappily produced. 
 From whatever sources he had drawn his informa- 
 tion of the state of religion and manners in this 
 place, it was certainly most incorrect, and such as 
 led him to anticipate his visit with feelings of con- 
 siderable uneasiness and reluctance. Nor did he 
 seem at all anxious to conceal the fact, that his 
 coming was the consequence of a necessity, to which 
 he was compelled to bow. So deep was his pre- 
 judice against Liverpool, that it appears to have 
 caused the only exception to that uniform submis- 
 sion with which he yielded to the arrangements made 
 by his constituents for his labours. But on this 
 occasion, he did not hesitate frankly to assure a 
 
160 LIFE OF SrENCER. part n. 
 
 gentleman, who meeting him in London, expressed 
 a hope, that they should soon have the pleasure of 
 seeing- him in Liverpool, that " it was not his wish 
 to see Liverpool — and that, although the committee 
 had appointed him to go, he should do all in his 
 power to prevail upon them to send some other 
 student." 
 
 But a visit upon which so much depended, and 
 whence such amazing consequences were to flow, 
 could not be abandoned by a superintending Provi- 
 dence, to the obstacles of his prejudice, or the in- 
 fluence of his feelings. His destination was fixed 
 — it was the voice of duty, and he obeyed. He 
 arrived in Liverpool on Saturday the 30th of June, 
 1810, and commenced his public labours on the 
 following Sabbath. 
 
 Mr. Spencer selected for the subject of his first 
 discourse, Luke, chap. xxiv. verse 32, ' And they 
 said one to another, Did not our heart burn within 
 us, while he talked with us by the way, and while 
 he opened to us the scriptures.' In the afternoon 
 he preached from Hebrews, chap. xii. verse 24, — 
 ' And to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh bet- 
 ter things than that of Abel.' And in the evening 
 from I. Corinthians, chap. xv. verse 25, ■ For he 
 must reign till he hath put all enemies under his 
 feet.' 
 
 The impression produced by the labours of this 
 Sabbath will be long remembered. The emotion 
 then awakened has not subsided to this day. Every 
 sermon that he preached tended to deepen the con- 
 viction of his piety and talents — and to endear him 
 to the people. His lively affectionate manner, and 
 the simple but elegant style of his discourses, capti- 
 vated all who heard him. Every sermon produced 
 accessions to the congregation. The report of his 
 extraordinary powers prevailed, and all classes 
 pressed to witness them. The chapel soon became 
 
* HAP >♦• LIFE OF SPENCER. 161 
 
 thronged to excess — and not alone the thoughtless 
 and the gay, whom the charms of a persuasive elo- 
 quence and an engaging- manner might attract, — 
 but piows and experienced Christians sat at his feet 
 with deep attention and delight. There seemed to 
 be indeed a shaking amongst the dry hones. A di- 
 vine unction evidently attended his ministry, and 
 such were the effects produced, that every beholder, 
 with astonishment and admiration, cried " what hath 
 God wrought !" 
 
 In his own views of Liverpool, tGO, a great 
 change was effected by the remarkable circum- 
 stances attendant on his ministry. The kind assi- 
 duities of the family under whose hospitable roof 
 he resided, and an intercourse with the pious part of 
 the congregation, which they carefully promoted, 
 tended gradually to weaken his prejudices, and at 
 length completely to turn the bias and reverse th« 
 purpose of his mind. The period of his stay was 
 limited to five Sabbaths; but at the earnest solicita- 
 tion of the people, he consented, after communicat- 
 ing with his friends in London, to add another to 
 the number. And in the afternoon of the last Sab- 
 bath, he preached from Deuteronomy, chap, xxxhi. 
 ver. 3, ' Yea, he loved the people,' in such a styl§ 
 of endearment and affection, as seemed to warrant 
 the indulgence of their warmest hopes. The last 
 week of his visit was spent in the most delightful 
 intercourse with Christian friends; and on Tuesday, 
 the 7th of August, he left Liverpool, with reluctance 
 and tears. 
 
 The following extracts are from his correspon- 
 dence while at Liverpool. 
 
162 JLIFE OF SPENCER. 'art h. 
 
 Letter XXVIII. 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " Liverpool, July, 3d, 1810, 
 
 *' I had a most uncomfortable jour- 
 ney. The distance was so great, the company so 
 disagreeable, and I so low spirited, that I can truly 
 say, I never travelled in such misery before. When 
 I arrived at Manchester there was no one to meet 
 me at the coach. No one expected me. After a 
 great deal of trouble I found out Mr. Smith's house, 
 and I shall always feel indebted to him for the kind- 
 ness with which he received me, though unexpected, 
 and for the hospitality with which he entertained me 
 till Saturday morning, when I left Manchester for 
 Liverpool. And say you, what are your sentiments 
 about that ? — I freely tell you then, that I think it 
 is an excellent town, &c. &c. ; but I had rather any 
 one should be here supplying than myself, and I 
 long for the time when I shall leave for Hoxton. 
 
 # # * * # 
 
 " Depend upon it, if possible, I will set off for 
 Jjondon on Monday, Jul) 30th; I wish it. were to- 
 morrow — but perhaps I do wrong in complaining. 
 May you enjoy the presence of Him who has shut me 
 up from the society of my beloved companions for a 
 time, perhaps that I might seek more earnestly after 
 his own. 
 
 ** I remain, 
 
 M Yours affectionatelv, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
•LIFE OF SPENCER. 1C3 
 
 Letter XXIX. 
 TO MR. GEORGE MEDLEY. 
 
 "Liverpool, July 1 2th, 18 lO. 
 
 M My dear Friend, 
 
 " I am sure you will be glad to hear 
 from me, and therefore make no scruple of troubling 
 you with a line. In this distant part of the king- 
 dom, it affords me great pleasure to recollect that I 
 have, though far away, excellent friends who sin- 
 cerely regard me, and anxiously watch over my best 
 interests,— and, I am happy to say, you are among 
 the first of my constant cordial Christian friends. 
 Oh that both of us may enjoy the sweet friendship 
 of Him who, having "loved his own which were in 
 the world, loved them to the end." 
 
 " I suppose you know,, that an unexpected scene 
 of affliction was opened to me before I left town> 
 and it still sends forth, bitter waters. 'Tis hard to 
 see and to acknowledge that, whilst clouds and dark- 
 ness are round- about him, righteousness and judg- 
 ment are the habitation of his seat. We, alas! are 
 too apt to murmur at the holy providence of that 
 God,, who does as he pleases hi heaven and in earth,, 
 and who will hereafter make us know that he does 
 all things well.. 
 
 '-' Pray for me, that I may be enabled to say, *t 
 know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and 
 that in faithfulness, thou hast afflicted me.' My 
 journey to this place was most tiresome and fa- 
 tiguing. I am treated with every possible mark of 
 attention.. My preaching is well attended ; may it 
 be crowned with the real blessing of our God. To 
 such a request I know your piety will lead you to. 
 add Amen. I may possibly remain here four more- 
 Sabbaths: I wish however to stay but three,. 
 
164 LIFE OF SPENCER. 
 
 -At first I found it disagreeable to have 
 
 no old friends to converse with at this place ; but 
 such separations are necessary, and, if sanctified, 
 have a tendency to drive us nearer to the Saviour, 
 the only source of permanent happiness. At his 
 throne we may always unbosom ourselves; and 
 when consolation does not come from our fellow- 
 creatures, we must look for it from Him who ' is a 
 present help in time of trouble.' How sweet is the 
 thought, that his ear is ever open to our requests, 
 wherever we may be, and that he can always supply 
 our wants. Farewell, my dear friend; may you 
 enjoy the choicest blessings a covenant God can 
 give. 
 
 " Your affectionate friend, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Letter XXX., 
 TO MB. HABBON. 
 
 " Liverpool, July 17, 1810. 
 
 «« My dear Friend, 
 
 "I suppose you have been looking 
 for a letter for a day or two past from your friend 
 at Liverpool : so here it is come at last. I did not 
 preach at Manchester, for notice had been given the 
 Sabbath before, that there would be no preaching 
 there the next Wednesday evening — nor have I 
 
 been to . I saw no one from his house when 
 
 1 was at Manchester, nor have I heard any thing 
 from him since: most likely I shall not see him at 
 all. In fact I have quite visiting enough among th« 
 people of the congregation. 
 
 # # # # # 
 
chap. v. LIPE OF SPENCER. 1(55 
 
 " Here are some excellent people, very pious, 
 and zealous for the honour of God, and the good of 
 immortal souls, in this town. With some of them 
 I shall be almost sorry to part. 
 
 " Last Sunday evening I preached the. sermon 
 for Hoxton; we collected above £40. The place 
 I preach in is called Nezmngton Chapel. I forget 
 the name of the street it stands in. There are many 
 more dissenting places of worship here then you 
 seem aware of. I am not yet certain whether I 
 stay six Sabbaths. 
 
 •' Mr. has written me a long and pressing 
 
 letter for me to go ,to Plymouth Dock, which he 
 says is just the thing for me— he wishes me to settle 
 there — gives an exceedingly high character of the 
 place. According to his request I must write to 
 him soon, but I scarce know in what manner. It 
 is a large congregation, and he says, that there is 
 there ' a huge army of the soldiers of the cross/ 
 
 "I will take care to get you a plan of the town. 
 I hear that a fire has consumed Huntington's cha- 
 pel in Tichfield street — is it true ? Dr. Winter has 
 written to me, requesting me to supply New Court 
 the first Sabbath in August. 
 
 " The Wednesday after I wrote to you, I preach- 
 ed on Psalm lxi. verse 2. Following Sabbath — 
 morning, Colossians, chap. iii. verse 3: afternoon, 
 John, chap. x. verse 9: evening, Job, chap, xxxvi. 
 verse 18. The next Wednesday evening, Galatians, 
 chap. iv. verse 7. Last Sabbath morning, Zacha- 
 riah, chap. vi. verse 13 : afternoon, the same con- 
 tinued : evening, chap. iii. verse 7. Monday even- 
 ing, at the prayer meeting, I either go over the 
 outline of one of the sermons preached the day be- 
 fore, or else give a short exhortation, as at Hoxton. 
 
 -" I suppose you know that I have written to Mr. 
 Daniel Curling, but not to Mr. Brown. — For the 
 feet is, I had rather not, I do not know how, and 
 
1*66 LIFE OF SPENCER. fart n. 
 
 I- -do not see that it would do any good, so must 
 decliue it. I am out almost every day. Oh why 
 should people be afraid to let me be alone ; why will 
 they not let me enjoy my much-loved solitude I On 
 several accounts I feel anxious to get home ; and 
 can now indeed say, * Hoxton, with all thy faults, I 
 love thee still.' 
 
 " Present my respects to all our friends in town. 
 Give me as much intelligence as you can in your 
 next: and believe ine still 
 
 " Your sincere friend, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER," 
 
 Very soon after his return to Hoxti- n, Mr. Spen- 
 cer received from the church and congregation at 
 Newington chapel, an unanimous and pressing in- 
 vitation to accept the pastoral office over thenu 
 The call was dated the 8th of August, 1810. After 
 near seven weeks deliberation, Mr. Spencer returned 
 an answer in the affirmative. In what exercises of 
 mind these seven weeks were spent, those who knew 
 the peculiar circumstances of his situation can well 
 conceive. On the one hand, — the unanimous re- 
 quest of a people to whom God had directed him 
 contrary to his wish, and to whom he had become 
 singularly endeared-: — the imperious call of duty to 
 a sphere of action for which his talents seemed every 
 way adapted, in which his labours had been already 
 remarkably successful, and which promised most 
 extensive usefulness. These were circumstances of 
 no common magnitude. But on the other hand, 
 there were many powerful ties to bind him to the 
 neighbourhood of the metropolis. His family — this 
 best friendships^his most endeared connexions — 
 the scenes of his early labours — all conspired in the 
 prospect of his removal to so great a distance, to 
 
cmap.v. LIFE OF SPENCER. 167 
 
 awaken the most painful and distressing' feelings 
 in his mind. — And resolutely to resist the impor- 
 tunities of friends, the value of whose society we 
 fully know — to rise superior to those local attach- 
 ments which long and happy intercourse cannot 
 fail to form — and to leave the circle to which time 
 and frequent interchange of sentiment have render- 
 ed us familiar and endeared, for a land of strangers 
 —involve a sacrifice which only the voice of duty 
 can demand, or the prospect of usefulness repay. 
 Y«t such are the sacrifices which the Christian mi- 
 nister must frequently be called to make ; and whilst, 
 on his part, they are with cheerfulness surrendered 
 to the call of duty, and the cause of Christ, let 
 those on whose particular behalf they are claimed, 
 seek by kindness to blunt the edge of separation, 
 and relieve as much as may be the memory of dis- 
 tant and endeared connexions. 
 
 I insert a copy of Mr. Spencer's answer to the call 
 which he received from the church and congregation 
 at Newington^ as it will .afford to the reader an 
 additional opportunity of obtaining an acquaintance 
 with its amiable author. 
 
 Letter XXXI. 
 
 To the Independent Church of Christy assembling in 
 
 Newington Chapel, Xiiverpool. 
 
 44 My Christian Friends, 
 
 " Bein^ unwilling to keep you any 
 longer in suspense than is absolutely necessary, upon 
 the important subject of my settlement with a church 
 and congregation, I feel it my duty to reply to your 
 obliging and respectful invitation. You* are well 
 aware, that I came amongst you influenced by the 
 strongest prejudices against the place, and ireso- 
 
168 LIFE OF SPENCER. rAR * * 
 
 lutely determined never to think of it as a sphere 
 calculated for me. Whilst I was amongst you, 
 however, several circumstances united to remove 
 the strength of my prejudices, and, I trust, to make 
 me determined by every appointed and lawful means 
 to ascertain the will of God, and when ascertained, 
 cheerfully to fulfil it, however opposed it might he 
 to my private wishes and inclinations. A review of 
 the partial degree of success Avith which my labours 
 in Liverpool were honoured, does aiford me consi- 
 derable pleasure, and I must say, that I .speak the 
 real sentiments of my heart when I confess, that the 
 manner in which you, my respected friends and 
 brethren in the Gospel, have conducted this impor- 
 tant affair, has raised you exceedingly in my esteem, 
 and given me to believe, that a preacher would find 
 among you as a people, those motives to diligence 
 and those sources of real happiness in the prosecu- 
 tion of his work, which, alas, are denied to many a 
 faithful minister of the New Testament. 
 
 " When I regard you as a church and congre- 
 gation, I feel anxiously concerned for your spiritual 
 and eternal welfare, and indeed earnestly desire, if 
 consistent with the good pleasure of his will, the 
 great Head of the church would make use oi' me to 
 build you up in faith and holiness; but my motives 
 for thinking favourably of your invitation arise also 
 from other sources. I look at the state of thousands 
 of inhabitants in that vast town, to many of whom I 
 hope to be the instrument of conveying the * joyful 
 sound;' my soul longs that they may receive the 
 salvation which is in Jesus Christ, with eternal 
 glory, and influenced, I have reason to believe, by 
 the direction of my God, I resolve to preach among 
 them the unsearchable riches of Christ. 
 
 " I assure you, my fellow travellers to Zion, I 
 can observe, with admiration, peculiarities in this 
 dispensation which never before struck me m refer- 
 
CHAP.r LIFE OF SPENCER. • 169 
 
 ence to any other situation. Oh may it appear, that 
 this work and this counsel is of G od ! 
 
 " Some difficulties must be met, and some sacri- 
 fices must be made, by me, when I leave the scenes 
 of my former exertions in the cause of Christ, for 
 the sake of the people at Newington. But these are 
 things which I must ever expect; these are circum- 
 stances which I resolved should never move me, 
 when I first gave myself to God and his Christ. 
 
 " Truly believing then that I am acting under the 
 direction of an all wise Jehovah, and humbly asking 
 that this may be made manifest in after days, I ac- 
 cept the invitation you have given me to exercise 
 over you the pastoral office. — I comply with your 
 unanimous request, and shall from this day consider 
 myself as solemnly bound to you, if you see it right 
 to allow me the following requisitions : 
 
 ° That I preach among you regularly but twice 
 on the Sabbath, viz. morning and evening. I men- 
 tion this, because I know that my constitution will 
 not admit of three services in the day, and I am 
 sure it is not consistent with your wishes, that I 
 should prevent myself from future exertions by pre- 
 suming on too much at firsts and the plan I propose 
 will, 1 am persuaded, after trial prove beneficial ra- 
 ther than injurious to the cause at Newington* To 
 preaching to you twice on the Sabbath and once in 
 the week, I shall never feel the least objection. 
 My other wish is — 
 
 " That I may have in the Spring of the year six 
 weeks annually to myself, to visit my friends, and 
 occasionally see other parts of the Lord's vineyard. 
 
 " I do not leave Hoxton Academy till after 
 Christmas, and perhaps may not be with you so 
 early as you wish. — It is my intention, however, to 
 commence my labours among you, if convenient to 
 yourselves, on the first Sabbath in February, 1811. 
 Your sentiments on the subjects I have mentioned 
 I 
 
170 LIFE OF SPENCER. * ARi *** 
 
 you will be pleased to communicate to me as early 
 as possible. 
 
 " And now just allow me, my respected friends, 
 to request you not to form too sanguine expecta- 
 tions in reference to the pleasure you expect to 
 enjoy when I become your pastor. You will doubt- 
 less find in me much to pity and to blame; yet it is 
 my earnest prayer that you may never have to charge 
 me with neglect in watching over you in the Lord. 
 Finally, I request your supplications for me at the 
 throne of the heavenly Majesty, that a dof>r of ut- 
 terance may be opened unto me, that on me the 
 communications of divine grace may ever be be- 
 stowed, that Christ may be magnified by my preach- 
 ing and my life, that I may be preserved faithful 
 unto death, and then receive a crown of life. 
 
 " Accept my cordial wishes for the prosperity of 
 your own souls, of yourfamilies, but especially of 
 your Christian society and of the cause of Zion 
 amongst you. Cease not to pray solemnly, fer- 
 vently, and without intermission, for me, and believe 
 me your's in our glorious Lord, 
 
 -THOMAS SPENCER.'' 
 
 " Hoxton, Sept. 26, 1810" 
 
 This official communication to the church was 
 accompanied by a private letter to the friend, under 
 -whose roof he had resided during his occasional 
 visit, and to whose care the preceding document 
 was addressed. 
 
 Letter XXXII. 
 
 " Hoxton College, Sept. 29. 
 
 ** My dear Sir, 
 
 " If you wish immediately to know 
 the purport of my enclosed answer to the respectful 
 

 •«ap v. LIFE of SPENCER. 171 
 
 and pressing- invitation I have received from New- 
 ington, turn to the 22nd verse of the Epistle to 
 Philemon. 
 
 " I hope you will forgive me for the long, the 
 doubtful suspense, in which I have been obliged to 
 detain you; in my own view I have acted rightly, 
 and I have no doubt but you will say that it was all 
 proper, when you come to hear my statement. It is 
 astonishing what I have had to meet with through 
 the kindness of my London friends — kindness you 
 will think improperly manifested, when I tell you, 
 that they, with very few exceptions, entreat, beg, 
 and request, that I would not settle at Liverpool, 
 I can only tell them, that in this affair, 
 
 ' I hear a voice they cannot hear ; 
 ' I see a hand they cannot see.' 
 
 And have the leadings of Providence lost their 
 importance? or the direction of Heaven become 
 merely matter of idle talk ? I have not written indi- 
 vidually to any person in Liverpool beside yourself: 
 I should have found a difficulty in speaking of the 
 business before I had made known my determina- 
 tion. By the first Sabbath in February next year, 
 I shall (God willing) be again in Liverpool, when I 
 hope the presence of my covenant God will accom- 
 pany me, and his Spirit grant me wide success. 
 The prospect of leaving my friends and connexions 
 for so distant a place as Liverpool, and especially as 
 many of them oppose the plan, sometimes fills me 
 with melancholy gloom; but * Thy will be done' 
 is a petition that well becomes me in my situation ; 
 may I have grace given me to use it with a sincere 
 and believing heart ! 
 
 * ^F ^F $fc w 
 
 " I trust it will appear, that the general good of 
 the church of Christ, and of the inhabitants of Liver- 
 
172 LIFE OF SPENCER. part it. 
 
 pool, is the object to which I have directed my 
 warm and unremitting exertions. Farewell. 
 " I remain sincerely yours, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 To this may be added an extract from a letter, 
 dated September 1st, 1810: — 
 
 " My mind still inclines to Liverpool, and that 
 for the most substantial reasons. If I accept this 
 invitation, I shall be obliged to make some sacri- 
 fices ; but ought I not to make them cheerfully, 
 when the honour of God, and the happiness of im- 
 mortal souls require them i especially as I am bound 
 not to count even my life dear unto me, so that I 
 may finish my course with joy. The sacrifices to 
 which I allude are chiefly, perhaps altogether, occa- 
 sioned by absence from my friends and connexions, 
 and a removal from those interesting scenes of ex- 
 ertion which have witnessed my first efforts to dis- 
 seminate divine truth, and in which I have been 
 favoured with some success." 
 
 Thus happily was a point of so much importance 
 to the interests of religion in Liverpool determined. 
 A consideration of the issue of this affair, together 
 with many others perpetually occurring, should 
 teach us to suspend our judgments of persons and 
 of places we have never seen — and should tend to 
 weaken those unjust and injurious prejudices against 
 them, which we too hastily form — too tenaciously 
 cherish. Often we picture to ourselves the most 
 enchanting scenes, the most delightful associations, 
 in connexion with a spot we are about to visit, and 
 are disappointed — and as often we find those charm- 
 ing scenes, and happy associations, in regions which 
 our prejudices had invested with every thing gloomy 
 
« HAP v - LIFE OF SPENCER. 173 
 
 and repulsive. Had Spencer yielded to the im- 
 pulse of his feelings, he had never become pastor of 
 a church in Liverpool. And although the memory 
 of his lamented fate may induce, from principles 
 generally regarded as honourable to humanity, a 
 wish that he had not — yet the Christian sees in this 
 the -hand of God — and, contemplating the mighty 
 work which in his short ministry he was honoured 
 to perform, rejoices that, however mysterious the 
 decree, it was ordered so. It is not for us to cal- 
 culate whether he would have been more useful, or 
 less useful, or as useful, elsewhere — he teas eminently 
 useful in Liverpool— and though all must lament 
 that he should be so soon, so suddenly removed — 
 yet there are none who witness the extraordinary im- 
 pression which his labours produced in so large and 
 populous a town, but must rejoice in their success, 
 and adore the Providence which brought him there. 
 
 Nor was it from the want of other calls that Mr. 
 Spencer was induced to accept that which he re- 
 ceived from Liverpool. Many were the churches 
 which desired to enjoy his valuable ministry. 
 Amongst others, the following places may be named, 
 — Kidderminster, Kentish Town, Jewin street. 
 Worthing, Southampton, and Tonbridge Chapel. 
 
 This last-mentioned chapel is a recently erected 
 building, in the New Road leading from Pentonville 
 to Paddington, near London — in a populous, re- 
 spectable, and increasing neighbourhood. During 
 its erection, an impression was encouraged, both on 
 Mr. Spencer's mind and that of the surrounding in- 
 habitants, that he would probably be the preacher. 
 The idea was not at all unpleasant to him. In most 
 respects the arrangement met his wishes; and he 
 had even laid the plan on which he resolved to act, 
 provided his expectations had been realized. He 
 purposed to reside a few miles out of town, to pre- 
 vent the dissipation of his time, and to come to 
 
174 LIFE OF SPE"NCER. 'art "• 
 
 London on certain days to visit his people. He 
 expected much gratification from the neighbourhood 
 of his friend and fellow-student, the Rev. S. Has- 
 lock, minister of Kentish Town chapel, with whom 
 he hoped to unite in plans of usefulness for their 
 vicinity. But circumstances did not conspire to call 
 into exercise those judicious and benevolent design*. 
 
 The chapel was opened early in November, 1810; 
 and on Sunday, the 18th, he preached his first ser- 
 mon there. It was in allusion to its recent opening, 
 founded on Hebrews, chap. x. ver. 19 — 22. After 
 the congregation was dismissed, he went over the 
 whole building, the plan of which pleased him much. 
 He was particularly delighted with the deep front 
 gallery, which, by exhibiting a multitude of atten- 
 tive faces, encouraged him, he said, in his preaching. 
 In that chapel he frequently addressed large and 
 deeply interested auditories, and in that pulpit a 
 public tribute of respect was paid to his memory in 
 a funeral sermon, delivered by the Rev. Rich. Slate, 
 minister of Stand, near Manchester.* 
 
 From the period of his acceptance of the call to 
 Liverpool, till February, 1811, when he actually 
 entered on the pastoral office there, his time was 
 wholly occupied in the diligent pursuit of his 
 studies, and the labours of the pulpit. Not a Sab- 
 bath passed, but witnessed twice or thrice his faith- 
 ful publication of the Gospel of peace. On Sunday, 
 the 26th of August, he re-visited Dorking — a spot 
 endeared to him by the beauty of its scenery — but 
 more by the memory of those happy hours which 
 
 * Mr. Slate was formerly a fellow- student with Mr. Spencer. He 
 •was supplying the pulpit at Tonbridge chapel in the autumn of 1811, 
 the period ol Mr. Spencer"s death. His discourse is founded on John, 
 chap. v. verse 35, ' He was a burning and a shining light.' It was 
 afterwards published — and has readied a second edition. The senti- 
 ments it breathes are honourable to the author's character as a man, 
 & Christian, and a friend. 
 
•hap.t. LIFE OF SPENCER. 175 
 
 introduced him to the knowledge and esteem of a 
 most beloved and valued friend. 
 
 The first Sabbath in November he spent at Brigh- 
 ton, where he preached three times in the pulpit of 
 the Rev. Mr. (now Dr.) Styles. 
 
 Returning to towu, he continued preaching in 
 and about London till the close of the year, when 
 he again visited Brighton, at which place he entered 
 on the year 1811 — the last of his life. 
 
 In what way his mind was exercised during this 
 period — and how his principles as a Christian tri- 
 umphed over his feelings as a man in the prospect 
 of a long and painful separation from those he loved 
 — may be seen by the following letters. 
 
 Letter XXXIII. 
 TO MR. NICHOLAS HURRY. 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " 1 have thankfully to acknowledge 
 the receipt of your kind letter. I am grieved to 
 hear that sickness has entered your habitation, and 
 sorrow oppressed the heart of your valuable partner. 
 Oh may you find, that Jehovah mingles mercy with 
 judgment, and that he doth not afflict willingly, nor 
 grieve the children of men. Pray earnestly, my 
 dear Sir, for a spirit of resignation to the will of 
 God, and confidence in the disposal of him who 
 must do right. * What I do,' says our best Friend, 
 ' thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know here- 
 after.' Oh for faith in his wisdom and his care! lam 
 ill qualified to suggest much that will be of use to 
 you in your present trial ; and I hope you have 
 proved before now the sympathy of the Saviour, 
 who feels with his people in all their sorrows, and 
 whose strong arm can support them in every trial : 
 
176 LIFE OF SPENCER. farti-i. 
 
 thus your experience will lead you afresh to apply 
 to him now, and to repose your confidence in him 
 ibr ever. 
 
 " Take care that you mention to Mrs. H. the 
 stability of the covenant of grace, which remains 
 still rich in its treasures, and secure in its blessings, 
 though our comforts fail us, and our hope decays. 
 Tell her that Christ lives still, and that he lives for 
 her as a believer in him, and that no affliction can 
 separate from his love. Tell her, that in all these 
 dispensations he has kind ends to answer, which, if 
 we do not discover on this side eternity, we shall 
 know well, and gratefully acknowledge, when we 
 enter that holy, that large family above, where nei- 
 ther disease nor death ever approach. I earnestly 
 desire, I would frequently pray, that she may have 
 grace to commit the child into the hands of Christ, 
 who once said, of such is tite kingdom of heaven : 
 and should it be his holy will to remove this darling 
 of your heart to his own arms in glory, may she and 
 you, still taught by divine grace, and supported by 
 divine love, say — i" was dumb, and opened not my 
 mouth because thou didst it. God can teach us to 
 adore and bless, even for dispensations which we 
 cannot understand. 
 
 " My own mind is now often painfully exercised 
 by the idea of leaving the society of those who have 
 possessed a large share of my heart, for a place so. 
 distant as Liverpool. On this subject I have felt 
 more than I can possibly express. Pray for me, 
 that I may be enabled to commit myself, and those 
 I love, unto the kind care of our Father in heaven. 
 
 " For the present farewell : present my respects 
 to our friends, and believe me sincerely your's, 
 
 « THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
cffAP. v. LIFE OP SPENCER. J77 
 
 Letter XXXIV. 
 TO MR. WILLIAM HARRIS. 
 
 " Hoxton, December, S, 1810. 
 
 *■ My dear Sir, 
 
 " I am persuaded that you will ex- 
 cuse my neglecting to write to you so long, when you 
 recollect that the liope I daily entertained of seeing 
 you in town appeared to represent my troubling 
 you with an epistle as unnecessary. I am extremely 
 pleased to hear of the increase and welfare of your 
 family; I cannot but feel an interest in their pros- 
 perity and happiness : may the Lord pour his Spirit 
 ■upon your seed, and his blessing upon your off- 
 spring, that they may spring up as among the grass, 
 as zmllows by the water courses. I suppose I need 
 not inform you, that I anticipate my journey to 
 Liverpool with mingled emotions of mind. The 
 idea of a long and painful separation from my con- 
 nexions does certainly at times overwhelm me with 
 melancholy gloom ; I have not yet learned to con- 
 quer my feelings, nor am I particularly eminent for 
 philosophic heroism. The idea that I am going 
 where divine Providence has directed me,* does 
 occasionally impart to me a strong consolation ; 
 may my wishes as to extensive usefulness among 
 you be answered; may they be exceeded in the 
 prosperity of the church and congregation, and in 
 the increase of spirituality and holy enjoyment in 
 my own soul. 
 
 • In a letter to his friend Mr. Haddon, about that time, he also 
 writes, " I am sometimes overwhelmed with the idea of parting from 
 my friends for so great a distance. Yet I am sure it is my duty to 
 go ; nor could I be happy any where but where I believed I was 
 executing the will of my glorious Head, for whom I hope I can say, 
 I am willing to suffer the loss of all things. Pray for me that the 
 will of Heaven may be my will ; and for yourself, that you may be 
 resigned to his wise dispensations, and ever rejoice in them." 
 
 i2 
 
178 LIFE OF SPENCER. * Mfcrn, 
 
 " I am glad you are successful in getting accept- 
 able supplies: this is a point which should be at- 
 tended to. I should like the congregation to have 
 the best of preachers. My books, &c. I must send 
 from London before Christmas day, that I may have 
 no trouble with them after my return from Brighton. 
 
 " I am extremely happy in the prospect of being 
 with your family on my first entrance into Liverpool: 
 it will be far superior to my being with strangers. 
 This half year has been a trying one as to preach- 
 ing engagements, both on Sabbaths and on week 
 days. I continue supplying Hoxton, and the new 
 chapel, SomersTown, till Christmas: the day after 
 Christmas day I hope to go to Brighton, to stay 
 there three Sabbaths, and to return on the 17th of 
 January, to supply Roydon, and Hertford, the next 
 week ; and the last Sabbath in January, to take my 
 leave of this part of the kingdom by two sermons at 
 Hoxton. 
 
 TT TV* *7V* "fl? TV 
 
 " Tell our friends at Newington chapel that I am 
 tolerably well, and wish to be kindly remembered to 
 them. Farewell, my valued friend. 
 " I am sincerely yours, 
 
 « THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 The purposes expressed in this letter were ac- 
 complished according to the order in which they are 
 stated. He visited Brighton, and preached on the 
 last Sabbath of the old year three times, at Mr. 
 Styles's chapel — in the evening a sermon adapted 
 to the season, from I. John, chap. ii. verse 17, ' And 
 the world passeth away, and the lust thereof; but he 
 that doeth the will of God abideth for ever.' On 
 
Ctakp.v. LIFE OF SPENCER. 179 
 
 the evening of the 1 st of January, 1811, he preached 
 an appropriate discourse at the Countess of Hun- 
 tingdon's chapel ; and on the following" Thursday, 
 and three times on the Sunday, he preached at Mr. 
 Styles's. On the Monday evening, being the first 
 Monday in the month, the missionary prayer meet- 
 ing was held at Brighton, when he delivered a most 
 animated and impressive address from Matthew, 
 chap. xiii. ver. 16, 17, ' Blessed are your eyes, for 
 they see, and your ears, for they hear; for verily I 
 say unto you, that many prophets and righteous 
 men have desired to see those things which ye see, 
 and have not seen them ; and to hear those things 
 which ye hear, and have not heard them.' He con- 
 tinued another Sabbath in Brighton, and left that 
 place some time in the following week. Passing 
 through London, he went into Hertfordshire. On 
 Sunday, January the 20th, he preached at Boydon, 
 morning and afternoon, and at Hoddesdon in the 
 evening. On the Tuesday evening he preached at 
 Hertford, and slept again under his paternal roof. 
 On Wednesday evening he preached at Stansted, 
 and on Thursday evening again at Hertford. This 
 was, I believe, his last visit to his native town, and 
 to his father's house ! The separation which then 
 again took place between himself and his beloved 
 family was final. — The farewell which he bade to the 
 scenes of his infancy and childhood was eternal! I 
 cannot suppress the melancholy feeling which this 
 reflection has awakened in my mind. I am arrived 
 at length upon the eve of a mournful detail, which 
 all along I have anticipated with emotions of dis- 
 tress. Alas ! that one so useful should be so soon 
 removed ! And that ere we enter on the solemn 
 engagements of his pastoral life, we should be com- 
 pelled to notice circumstances so closely connected 
 with his death ! 
 
 The following Sabbath January 27th, was the last 
 
|80' EJFE OF SPENCER. partii. 
 
 he spent in London. On that day he preached in 
 the morning at Hoxton chapel, from Philippians, 
 chap. iii. vers 8, * Yea, doubtless, and I count all 
 things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge 
 of Christ Jesus my Lord.' And in the evening at 
 Tonbridge chapel, from II. Corinthians, chap. iv. 
 verse 3, ' But if our Gospel be hid, it is hid to them 
 that are lost.' The labours of this Sabbath com- 
 pleted his engagements at Hoxton and Tonbridge 
 chapels; but on the evening of the following day 
 (Monday) he took an affectionate leave of his be- 
 loved friends — the constituents — the tutors — the 
 students — and the congregation at Hoxton, from 
 the pulpit of that chapel. The crowd that pressed 
 to hear his last sermon (for so it proved) in London 
 was immense. One common sentiment of attach- 
 ment and grief seemed to pervade the assembly. 
 A friend charged him on that occasion not to play 
 upon the passions. Not that he was in the habit of 
 doing this ; but there appeared on this occasion a 
 probability that he might. To that suggestion he 
 replied — that " neither his feelings nor his con- 
 science would admit of such trifling/' He addressed 
 the people on this interesting occasion from those 
 memorable words of Paul — Acts, chap. xx. verse 
 24, '■ But none of these things move me, neither 
 count I my life dear unto me, so that I may finish 
 my course with joy, and the ministry which I have 
 received of the Lord Jesus." 
 
 Thus were Spencer's labours in the metropolis 
 closed for ever — labours — the renewal of which 
 thousands anticipated with delight. But he was- 
 ripening fast for glory — and rapidly advancing to 
 the termination of his course. Yea, the impression 
 of his excellence — the feeling of regret at his de- 
 parture was yet strong and lively in the hearts of 
 many, when the tidings of his death shed a deeper 
 sorrow through the scenes and circles which he had 
 
chap. v. Lip E op SPENCER. 181 
 
 edified by his public instructions, or enlivened by his 
 private friendship. 
 
 It was on the 28th of January that Mr. Spencer 
 preached his farewell sermon at Hoxton chapel — 
 and it was on the 15th of August, in the same year, 
 in the same pulpit — and to nearly the same congre- 
 gation — that his funeral sermon was delivered by 
 the Rev. Henry Forster Burder, one of the tutors 
 of the academy. In that discourse, a just and ele- 
 gant tribute was paid to the mingled piety and talent 
 which formed the charm of his ministry. JProm the 
 known endowments of the preacher, and from the 
 opportunities which he enjoyed of obtaining a correct 
 estimate of Mr. Spencer's powers, that tribute must 
 derive considerable propriety and force : and as it 
 chiefly regards his ministerial labours in London, I 
 shall close these imperfect memoirs of them with an 
 extract from it. 
 
 '? During the last two years of our valuable 
 friend's residence at Hoxton, he was very frequently 
 engaged in preaching in London and its vicinity. 
 As this chapel has been, on many occasions, the 
 scene of his labours, and has been often thronged 
 with the multitudes attracted by his abilities and 
 piety, I need scarcely attempt an estimate of his 
 pulpit talents. That they were eminent — that they 
 were brilliant — that they were captivating — will not, 
 I think, be denied by any who witnessed their exhi- 
 bition. He undoubtedly displayed no small degree 
 of pulpit eloquence, and his eloquence was distin- 
 guished by characteristic features. It was not the 
 kind of eloquence in which a youth of genius might 
 be expected most to excel, and of which luxuriance 
 of imagination constitutes the chief attraction ; it 
 was not a peculiar vivacity of fancy,, which gave life 
 to his addresses, although in this respect they were 
 not deficient ; but they rather owed their effect to 
 the energy and animation infused by the ardour of 
 
182 LIFE OF SPENCER. part 11. 
 
 his soul, and to the unaffected fervour of his reli- 
 gious feelings, the impression of which was aided 
 by no small advantages of person, voice, and elocu- 
 tion. In endeavouring rightly to appreciate his 
 qualifications for the duties of the Christian ministry, 
 I must not omit to notice the truly edifying manner 
 in which he conducted the devotional exercises of 
 the pulpit. His gift in prayer was peculiarly excel- 
 lent. The language of his petitions seemed to 
 breathe the ardent aspirations of a heart alive to 
 God, and accustomed to enjoy fellowship with the 
 Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ."* 
 
 That he was maturing fast for the enjoyment of 
 his reward, even when he left London to commence 
 his pastoral engagements, is a conviction indelibly 
 impressed upon the minds of those who were ac- 
 customed to attend his preaching, or mingle in his 
 society. They remember certain expressions both 
 of countenance and language, which seemed to in- 
 dicate a tone of piety — a spirituality of feeling — too 
 exalted for a long continuance here. And it is to 
 be regretted, that such expressions, at the time so 
 powerful in their influence, and so carefully pre- 
 served by a tenacious memory — no pen — no pencil 
 can pourtray. Hence the sermons of animated and 
 extemporary preachers, when introduced to us from 
 the press, lose half their force and beauty. The 
 scope of the discourse — the process of the argu- 
 ment — may be indeed preserved; but the unpreme- 
 ditated, momentary flashes of holy fervour, and of 
 brilliant genius, cannot. The eloquence of the eye 
 — the expression of the countenance— the meaning 
 which is sometimes throAvn into every limb and 
 muscle of the frame— are wanting. — And though 
 
 * See a Sermon, delivered in Hoxton chapel, on the death of the 
 Rev. T. Spencer, by the Rev. Henry Forster Burder, M. A, one of th* 
 tutors of the Hoxton academy, page 32. 
 
«HAr.v. LIFE OF SPE1NCER. 183 
 
 'tis pleasing to possess a memorial of those, whom, 
 living, we revered and loved, yet the imperfection 
 of the copy only deepens our regret at the loss of 
 the original. In the preaching of Spencer, it 
 seemed as though he saw hefore him every object he 
 described — and felt the full force — the vast impor- 
 tance of every subject upon which he spoke. 
 
 Preaching one evening at Back street, Horsley 
 Down, and speaking of the reward of the faithful 
 minister, " Methinks," said he, " I already hear the 
 melodious accents of the Saviour's voice, saying,' 
 * Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into 
 the joy of thy Lord,'" It was remarked, that 
 he appeared as though he heard a voice personally 
 addressing him. His anticipation was in a very 
 few months realized ! 
 
 Anxious for the usefulness and variety of his mi- 
 nistry, he begged of his friend, upon his leaving 
 London, to send him any useful pamphlets or works 
 which might come out: " Let me know," said he, 
 " when popular ministers are in town — the texts 
 they take for particular occasions— festivals, &c. ; 
 the settling or removal of my fellow-students," &c. 
 
 The last time he was with his friend alone, prior 
 to his setting off for Liverpool, their approaching 
 separation was, as may be well imagined, the topic 
 of discourse. After much conversation, with the 
 simplicity of a child, he asked him if he had any 
 more cautions or advice to give him : then, with his 
 own peculiar affection and energy, he said, 
 
 " Through Christ when we together came, 
 
 In singleness of heart, 
 We met, O Jesu, in thy name, 
 
 And in thy name we part. 
 
 We part in body, not in mind; 
 
 Our minds continue one : 
 And each to each, in Jesus joiivd, » 
 
 We happily go on. 
 
184 LIFE OF SPENCER. part n. 
 
 Present in spirit still we are, 
 
 And intimately nigh; 
 While on the wings of faith and prayer, 
 
 We Abba, Father, cry. 
 
 O may thy Spirit, dearest Lord, 
 
 In all our travels still 
 Direct, and be our constant guard 
 
 To Zion's holy hill. 
 
 Oh, what a joyful meeting there, 
 
 Beyond these changing shades ; 
 White are the robes we then shall wear r 
 
 And crowns upon our heads. 
 
 Haste, Lord, and bring us to the day 
 
 When we shall dwell at home \ 
 Come, O Redeemer, come away, 
 
 O Jesus quickly come." 
 
PART III. 
 
 PROM HIS SETTLEMENT TS LIVERPOOL TO 
 HIS DEATH. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Hfs entrance on his stated Ministry. 
 
 ON Sunday, 3d of February, 1811, Mr. Spencer 
 commenced Ins stated, pastoral labours,, at Ne wing- 
 ton chapel, Liverpool. He was then just twenty 
 years of age — possessed of every endowment that 
 could render him eminent as a minister — and every 
 amiable disposition that could endear him as a friend. 
 The people of his charge, together with numbers 
 who participated with them in their joy, hailed his 
 entrance on his sacred duties with delight. From 
 him they fondly anticipated a long series of varied 
 and useful instructions — on him they gazed with 
 admiration, as affording them no mean example of a 
 holy and devoted life — and to him they looked with 
 pleasure as their children's friend. That he was 
 prepared to meet these high expectations, none who 
 have contemplated the superior qualities of his 
 mind can, for a moment, doubt. His literary attain- 
 
186 LIFE OF SPENCER. PABT 1H -- 
 
 ments, though not splendid, were respectable, and 
 his theological knowledge was considerable. His 
 acquaintance with mankind indeed was scanty. He 
 had only moved amongst the excellent of the earth. 
 But this, while it might expose him to certain in- 
 conveniences, gave him this advantage — that he 
 appeared in all the native ingenuousness of unsus- 
 pecting youth. His love of study was great, which 
 insured a constant supply of interesting materials 
 for his public ministry — whilst he possessed a faci- 
 lity, an ease, and an elegance, in the communication 
 of his thoughts, displayed by few. To all these, he 
 added the graces of the Spirit in no common degree 
 ■ — the glorious attributes of a soul eminently devoted 
 to God — a solemn awe of Ins sacred office — an ha- 
 bitual reference to the final account he should be 
 called to give — and an ardent zeal for the Redeem- 
 er's glory. Such was Spencer when he entered on 
 the duties of his sacred ministry. 
 
 But I shall justify this sketch of his character by 
 some extracts from his letters. 
 
 In one. dated Brighton, January the 9th, 1811, 
 he says — 
 
 " I dread the termination of the happiness I now 
 enjoy. It will be the commencement of a long and 
 agonizing separation. Oh ! that henceforth I may 
 live more devotedly to God than I have ever yet 
 done. I can truly say this is my desire; for to be a 
 preacher of the Gospel, and not to feel its due abid- 
 ing influence on the heart, is awful indeed. Since 
 I have been here I have trembled for myself, when I 
 have recollected the numerous follies of the four 
 years I have spent at Hoxton. The Lord pardon 
 me, and teach me to be more holy. Pray for me. 
 Affectionately your's, " 
 
 Mr. Spencer is certainly a striking example of 
 what some persons are unwilling to admit— the pos- 
 
•hap. I. LIFE OF SPENCER 187 
 
 sibility of a close and humble walk with God, even 
 amid the snares and temptations of an academy. 
 That in colleges, even the best regulated, tempta- 
 tions to levity exist, cannot be denied. Where 
 many young men of a lively turn of mind, are asso- 
 ciated, it must be so. But although such a spirit 
 may be partially, and at intervals encouraged — yet, 
 where there is true piety, the mind will be elevated 
 above its habitual influence, and occasional in- 
 stances of failure will excite to diligence for the 
 future, whilst they awaken deep regret and poig- 
 nant sorrow for the past. If to this there Avas a 
 natural tendency in - Spencer's constitution, how 
 sweetly is the influence of better principles dis- 
 played in the humility with which he confesses and 
 deplores his error. If upon this page the eye of a 
 cold, phlegmatic, stern professor should dwell, let it 
 not be averted in disgust, when it beholds this ami- 
 able youth's confession of an error, of a temptation 
 to which, from the constitution of his nature, he is 
 incapable — and to others, if Such there be, who., 
 happy to discover in a character like his any thing 
 like the shadow of afault, are preparing to pronounce 
 a sensorious and malignant judgment, I would say, 
 ■ — ' Let him that is without sin cast the first stone/ 
 
 The following letter was written the day after his 
 arrival in Liverpool. 
 
 Letter XXXV. 
 TO MR. JOHN HABDON, 
 
 " Liverpool, February 2d, 1811. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " I am safely arrived at the scene of 
 my future labours. My journey, though long, was 
 
188 LIFE OF SPENCER. part hi. 
 
 far less irksome than any one I have before under- 
 taken. The roads were had; this made ns late in 
 our arrival at Liverpool. We did not reach it till 
 a quarter before twelve last night. The short time 
 that i have yet spent here has been quite pleasant 
 •■ — it has been happy. The serious people of the 
 congregation have already paid me many kind and 
 Christian attentions. With the blessing of the 
 Master whom I serve, I expect to-morrow to spend 
 a very delightful Sabbath. My best feelings for the 
 glory of our Lord, and the increase of his kingdom, 
 will I hope be more strongly excited than ever they 
 have yet been. I cannot but think that the Head 
 of the church has some great work to accomplish 
 in Liverpool, and the desire of my heart is that I 
 may be the instrument employed to effect it. Oh! 
 for a large measure of the influence of the blessed 
 Spirit to render me ardently pious, and to keep me 
 zealous in my endeavours to do good to souls. I 
 know here are numbers who pray earnestly for me, 
 and whilst these pious people besiege the throne of 
 grace on my behalf) I will not fear that my God will 
 desert me. — To be holy and to be useful at this mo- 
 ment appears to be the first wish of my heart. Do 
 you say, ' indulgent God let it be accomplished!' 
 
 "■ I am tired with my journey and pressed for time. 
 Believe me, in the bonds of Christian affection, 
 " Sincerely your's, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCEH." 
 
 According to his anticipation, he did enjoy on 
 the Sabbath a happy day, although in the morn- 
 ing he was considerably agitated by the peculiarly 
 solemn circumstances of his new and most respon- 
 sible situation. In the morning his text was admi- 
 rably adapted to the occasion — Genesis, chap.. 
 
chap. I. LIFE OF SPENCER. 189 
 
 xxviii. vcr. 20—22, " And Jacob vowed a vow, say* 
 ing, It' God will be with me, and keep me in this way 
 that I go, and will give me bread to eat, and rai- 
 ment to put on, so that I come again to my father's 
 house in peace; then shall the Lord be my God, 
 and this stone which I have set for a pillar, shall 
 be God's house, and of all that thou shall give me, 
 I will surely give the tenth unto thee.' In the even- 
 ing he preached from I. Corinthians, chap. xv. 
 verse 49, ' And as we have borne the image of the 
 earthy, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.' 
 In the course of the ensuing week, he wrote as fol- 
 lows. 
 
 Letter XXXVI, 
 
 " Liverpool, February 7, 1811. 
 " Oh! what a memorable day to me 
 was the first Sabbath I spent in this place; every 
 circumstance that took place appeared worthy of at- 
 tention and big with events. Never before had I 
 entered a pulpit with those awful, solemn feelings, 
 with which I was impressed that morning. The 
 idea of appearing in a new character, of entering on 
 a station which I have no view of relinquishing till 
 the day of my death ; the weight of responsibility 
 which attaches to the ministerial character; the 
 dread lest I should act in any way unworthy of my 
 sacred office — all these things would naturally im- 
 part an unusual solemnity to the mind. On that 
 DAY Heaven is my witness of the resolutions I 
 formed. Oh that God may ever enable me to put 
 them in execution." 
 
 
 The attention which his labours had excited, 
 while an occasional supply, was repeated, now that 
 
190 LIFE OF SPENCER. part m. 
 
 he had commenced his stated ministry. Soon the 
 chapel became again crowded to excess. The 
 town was filled with his praise — the most respectable 
 of the inhabitants were perpetually disappointed in 
 their attempts to hear him, not being in any way 
 able to gain admittance to the chapel, so excessive 
 was the throng. His coming seemed to be the 
 commencement of a new era in the religious inter- 
 ests of Liverpool — at least amongst the Dissenters. 
 The prejudices of many were gradually subdued. 
 The tone of public sentiment, with respect to that 
 class of Christians amongst whom he laboured, con- 
 siderably raised. Many, by no means anxious to 
 conceal their opposition to his principles, Were com- 
 pelled to pay a just, though reluctant, tribute to the 
 fascinations of his eloquence ; and many whom the 
 fame of that eloquence brought beneath the sound 
 of his voice, were savingly converted unto God ; 
 and of these, some are at this moment honourable 
 members of the church of which he was the pastor. 
 
 So far from being elated by his popularity, and 
 rendered vain by the uncommon attention he excited 
 and received from all ranks — every Sabbath, while 
 he grew in public estimation, he seemed to sink in 
 his own esteem ; in humble acknowledgments of his 
 own unworthiness ; and in a yet deeper sense of his 
 awful obligations. 
 
 Letter XXXVII. 
 TO HIS FATHER. 
 
 " Liverpool, February 26, 181 1. 
 " I assure you I have every reason to be- 
 lieve, that this is the sphere in which infinite wisdom 
 intends me to move. My congregation is vast every 
 time I dispense the word of life. A general spirit 
 
chap.1, LIFE OF SPENCER. VJl 
 
 of hearing seems excited in tins large town — the 
 prospect is in every respect encouraging-, and I am 
 induced to hope, that great good will be done. I 
 feel the awful responsibility that attaches to my em- 
 ployment; and when I recollect the multitude of 
 souls committed to my care, I tremble, and exclaim, 
 ' Who is sufficient for these things V I often think 
 how different is my situation now, to what it was 
 when I lived at my father's house. I am called to 
 an active and laborious scene. Once it was enough 
 for me just to execute your wishes, and then in the 
 quiet enjoyment of our own family circle to expe- 
 rience satisfaction and, comfort. Now God has 
 blessed me by making me a blessing to others. 
 May he preserve me faithful, and make me an ho- 
 nourable and holy Christian!" 
 
 In another letter to his father, dated April the 9th, 
 1811 , he says — 
 
 " The interest excited in this town is still lively 
 and great. I trust much good is done. Prejudices 
 are removed, convictions are impressed on the mind, 
 and the cause of Satan appears to tremble under 
 the influence of the doctrines of the cross." 
 
 This is indeed a portrait worthy the attention of 
 the candidate for the Christian ministry — the student 
 ■ — and the minister. It is charming to behold such 
 excellence, so universally applauded, veiled from its 
 own observation by such deep humility. Some have 
 indulged in speculations on the probable influence 
 of Spencer's popularity upon his character, had he 
 been spared. It is possible that its influence might 
 have been injurious; he was a man, though he was 
 a Christian. But it is ungenerous and unjust to his 
 memory to cherish any gloomy suspicious on the 
 
192 LIFE OF SPENCEB. part hi. 
 
 subject, when, long- as lie did live, he sustained the 
 Christian character with unsullied purity, and de- 
 scended to the grave the same holy, humble, and 
 devoted youth, as when emerging from the obscu- 
 rity of his birth, the world first witnessed his unfold- 
 ing powers* 
 
 To the extracts already made, illustrative of his 
 humility, I shall add another, which, as it is without 
 date, may be well introduced here* 
 
 Letter XXXVIIL 
 TO A MINISTER* 
 
 " I have at length taken up my pen to 
 return you my sincere acknowledgments for the 
 lively interest you take in my welfare and happiness, 
 and especially for the excellent advice you have 
 given me, as to the faithfulness of my preaching, 
 and the circumspection necessary in my conduct. 
 Oh! never may I be left to indifference in the state- 
 ment of those glorious truths, which may well de- 
 mand the glowing fervour of our souls, since their 
 importance is declared to us by the blood of the 
 Lamb. May the same Saviour be honoured by my 
 feeble ministrations, whom I know you delight to 
 extol. Xou have been long engaged in endeavour- 
 ing to give him a high place in the affections — and 
 a throne in the hearts of the people. This, however, 
 is a glorious cause, in which I have but lately em- 
 barked ; yet may the same Holy Spirit, who has 
 enabled the heralds of salvation in every age to 
 testify of Jesus, make my tongue ever to tell his 
 excellence, warm my heart to feel his love, and in- 
 fluence my conduct to show forth his praise ! I 
 think I hear you add, — Amen I" 
 
LIFE 01? SPENCER, IJ)8 
 
 The following is also without date :- 
 
 Letter XXXIX. 
 TO MR. HADDON. 
 
 ^' Liverpool. 
 
 *< My dear Friend, 
 
 " I earnestly wish for you the sup- 
 port and the care of our constant and unchangeable 
 Friend, the Lord Jesus Christ : every day seems to 
 convince me of the necessity and the happiness of a 
 close walk with God : let us be always trusting in 
 God, and praying to him, and there is no doubt but 
 he will preserve and bless us. I was much pleased 
 with an instance of resignation to the Divine will I 
 lately met with. A pious and valuable member of 
 our congregation, lost his property, to a consider- 
 able amount, by an alarming fire. I was with him 
 soon after it happened, and it would have done you 
 good to have heard him say, with so much calm and 
 sacred acquiescence as he discovered, " The Lord 
 gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be 
 the name of the Lord." I could not but wish that 
 in all times of trial, I and my friends might have the 
 same God to strengthen and fortify the mind as he 
 had. Indeed you were mistaken, my worthy friend, 
 when you judged my letter to you an expression of 
 joy at separation from my friends. No, no ! There 
 is not a heart in the world that feels more truly and 
 sincerely on such occasions than my own ; but I 
 wish ever to remember the great object of my exis- 
 tence, and of my call to the ministry — not selfish 
 ends, but the glory of my God ; and when he com- 
 mands, whatever flesh and blood might suggest, or 
 carnal wishes desire, I must immediately obey. It 
 is this thought, ana the persuasion that I am em- 
 ployed in the vineyard of the Lord, just according ta 
 Ms will, that give me composure- and peace of mind; 
 
194 LIFE OF SPENCER. *abt iff. 
 
 and I can witness, that prayer unloads and eases 
 the mind as much at Liverpool as any where else. 
 Here I hope I have felt such salutary convictions 
 of the awful responsibility of my work, as I never 
 knew before, and as I hope I shall never forget ; and 
 happy am I to find, that here there are many of the 
 Lord's jewels, his choicest favourites: many who cail 
 on the name of the Lord Jesus, both theirs and ours, 
 out of a pure heart, and faith unfeigned. In our 
 prayer meeting, I have enjoyed a heaven begun be- 
 low, and that kind of devotion which can well repay 
 me for the sacrifices I have made. I suppose you 
 have heard of the prospects of usefulness which 
 open themselves before me : may I have grace to 
 improve every hour of my time to the service of my 
 God, and to maintain that holiness and integrity of 
 conduct which will recommend the glorious Gospel 
 I proclaim. According to my arrangements, I ex- 
 pect to be in town in May. Remember me affec- 
 tionately to our friends. I often think of the pleasant 
 opportunities we have enjoyed together, and often 
 wish you resided here. Whenever you see Mr. 
 Hill, of Westminster, give my respects to him. I 
 highly esteem him, because he discovers much of 
 the image and spirit of Christ ; and these are excel- 
 lencies which must be loved by us, if we are Chris- 
 tians, wherever we find them. May the God of 
 peace be with you, and ever keep you near himself. 
 Pray for me, that I may have all needful grace and 
 assistance. Write as soon as possible, and ever 
 view me 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 But scarcely had Spencer entered on the full 
 discharge of his public duties at Liverpool, when 
 severe affliction in the endeared circle of his con- 
 nexions at Brighton called him to that place. A 
 
chap.t. LIFE OF SPENCER. 195 
 
 letter written about this period, displays the ago- 
 nized state of his feelings — but abounds with ex- 
 pressions of holy acquiescence in the divine dispen- 
 sations. He left Liverpool on the 18th of March, 
 accompanied by the valued friend, under whose roof 
 he still resided, and whose guest he was, during his 
 first visit. Arrived in London, the following hasty 
 note bespeaks the anguish of his mind. 
 
 " Ludgate street, Tuesday Night. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " This moment I am within a few 
 doors of you, but cannot reach you. Mr. H. is with 
 me: we have just got in from Liverpool, and start 
 tor B. to-morrow, at seven o'clock in the morning. 
 I shall write to you from Brighton. Pray for me ; 
 I am in unutterable distress. Farewell. 
 
 " T. SPENCERS 
 
 The Sabbath after his arrival in Brighton, he did 
 not engage in any public service. Much of the day, 
 doubtless, was spent in administering comfort to the 
 afflicted. The fears which he had sometimes been 
 induced to harbour, were not, however, realized; 
 health slowly re turned. His friend was under the 
 necessity of hastening to Liverpool, after the lapse of 
 a few days — but Mr. Spencer remained at Brighton. 
 His affectionate heart dictated the following letter, 
 to welcome his friend on his arrival home. 
 
 Letter XL. 
 TO MR. HARRIS. 
 
 " Brighton, Thursday Morning. 
 
 " My dear and valued Friend, 
 
 " I am pleasing myself with the idea, 
 that before this reaches Liverpool, you will have 
 
196 LIFE OF SPENCER. part nu 
 
 shared the hearty and affectionate welcome of a 
 beloved and happy family: this is a blessing- which 
 you know how to improve and enjoy aright, and 
 for which I am persuaded you will express the sin- 
 cerest gratitude to the God of our mercies. May 
 the same kind and watchful Providence, which has 
 I trust led you to your home in peace and safety, 
 also preserve and defend me, that I may be again 
 restored to the church and congregation at New- 
 ington, and be enabled to pursue a course of active 
 and useful labour in the service of the Master whom 
 I hope I really love. 
 
 " I frequently think that by this visit to Brighton 
 on so mournful an occasion, I shall be better fitted 
 to sympathize with the afflicted in general, and be 
 taught how to commend them to God. Before this 
 I had not been at all familiar with scenes of sorrow 
 and distress. In the two sick rooms you visited 
 last Monday evening, 1 have learned lessons which 
 I shall never forget, and the benefit of which may 
 probably be communicated to the church of Christ 
 as well as to myself. 
 
 " Our Redeemer himself, in order to be rendered 
 a merciful and compassionate high priest, was 
 ' tempted like as we are ;' endured the various ills 
 and sorrows that flesh is heir to; and hence (oh! 
 blessed sympathy and kind relief) he is able to suc- 
 cour them that are tempted. 
 
 " Next Sabbath morning I intend to preach at 
 the Countess's chapel, and in the evening at Mr. 
 Styles's : pray for me, that I may be supported and 
 blest. It is still my design to reach Liverpool on 
 Friday night : tell our friends that they may expect 
 to see me in the pulpit on the following Sabbath. 
 May I be there richly laden with the good things of 
 the kingdom ; — may I be animated by a mind fraught 
 with rich and heavenly favours. I am sure that if 
 Biy God restores those who are so dear to me |9- 
 
<?« AP »• LIFE OF SPENCER 197 
 
 perfect health and strength, my heart, hard as it is, 
 will "not be insensible to the feeling of gratitude. 
 No ; — it will leap as doth a hart ; it will pant with 
 the sensations of unutterable joy. I have received 
 a very kind letter from our worthy friend, Mr. N. 
 
 H ; do tell him it afforded me real pleasure, 
 
 and give him my hearty thanks for his solicitude for 
 my happiness. I hope you are going on well with 
 the new chapel business; if possible, let us make 
 Satan tremble; against the kingdom of darkness let 
 us use the most active and unwearied exertions, 
 and God shall bless us in our deed. I wish I could 
 have attended the meeting of the Bible Society ; 
 my absence however was unavoidable. Give my 
 affectionate regards to my dear friend Mrs. Harris, 
 and to your dear children. I hope I shall soon see 
 you all happy and well. Your unremitting kindness 
 to me has produced impressions upon my mind 
 which will never be obliterated. I shall be happy 
 again to mix with your family circle, and to occupy 
 my own pulpit. To the hearers at Newington I 
 intend to shew my regard and best wishes, by con- 
 stantly labouring in their service. 
 
 " I am more than ever yours, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER. 
 
 The uncommon attention excited in Liverpool by 
 Mr. Spencer's ministry, soon suggested the neces- 
 sity of providing more accommodation than New- 
 ington chapel could afford for the numbers who 
 were anxious to enjoy the benefit of his stated 
 labours. At first, the idea of enlarging the old 
 place of worship presented itself; but some diffi- 
 culties arising, this was relinquished, and early in 
 March it was resolved, that a chapel capable of 
 accommodating two thousand persons should be 
 
198 LIFE OF SPENCER. FART in - 
 
 erected — a committee of management was appoint- 
 ed — and an eligible spot of ground soon selected 
 for the purpose. A most judicious plan for the 
 building was proposed and adopted — the dimen- 
 sions of which were thirty-two yards long, outside, 
 and twenty-one yards and a half broad, outside. A 
 liberal subscription was soon obtained, and the affair 
 was in a state of such forwardness on his return from 
 Brighton, that on the 15th of April, Mr. Spencer 
 laid the first stone of the chapel, in the presence of 
 an immense assembly — computed to consist of about 
 six thousand persons. On that truly interesting 
 occasion he delivered an appropriate address, and 
 solemnly dedicated the place to God by prayer. 
 
 About this time Mr. Spencer removed from the 
 hospitable abode of his early friend, with whom he 
 had resided on his first coming to Liverpool, in order 
 to lodge with Mr. Thurstan Lassell, in the Park 
 lioad ; a pleasant situation, about half a mile from 
 the town. It was the lot of Spencer to be beloved 
 in every circle which he entered — and none who 
 were honoured to behold his excellence, and enjoy 
 his friendship, ever resigned him without feelings of 
 the deepest regret. I cannot deny myself the plea- 
 sure of extracting a sentence or two from the willing 
 testimony which that friend has borne to the sterling 
 worth of his amiable guest. I am the more anxious 
 to do this, as it will unveil his character in private 
 life, and discover what he was as the member of a 
 family. 
 
 " We had the great advantage of Mr. Spencer's 
 pious conversation and fervent prayers in the family 
 for near four months, for he did not leave us till the 
 latter end of April; it was indeed a pleasant, and, 
 I trust, a profitable season, which we often review 
 with great delight. With what pleasing emotions 
 have we often surrounded our domestic altar, and 
 witnessed the fervour of his addresses to the God 
 
*hap. i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 199 
 
 and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. In this 
 delightful employ, he never seemed to engage with 
 half a heart ; his whole soul was alive to the service 
 of his God : he was serious in a serious cause, nor 
 did any circumstances that arose ever seem to unfit 
 him for the discharge of religious duties. Morning 
 and evening he generally engaged in prayer at fa- 
 mily worship ; the variety he produced on these 
 occasions has often astonished us ; it was impossible 
 to trace any thing like repetition; every prayer 
 seemed quite new, and gave fresh proof of the 
 powers of his mind, and the ardour of his soul. 
 
 " Mr. Spencer naturally possessed an amiable 
 disposition, and w r as innocently cheerful; no one 
 could say that gloom or melancholy was connected 
 with his religion. In his manners he was simple 
 and unaffected ; any thing like ostentation or parade 
 he disliked exceedingly : he would always, if possi- 
 ble, avoid mixing with large parties. The company 
 of serious, pious, plain Christians, was his delight. 
 lie was kind, generous, and tender-hearted; the 
 wants of the poor and necessitous he was ready and 
 willing to reliev e ; * To do good and communicate 
 he forgot not, knowing that with such sacrifices 
 God is well pleased.' " 
 
 But, whilst all around him was prosperous and 
 happy — whilst his ministry was successful beyond 
 his most sanguine expectations — and hundreds were 
 eager to administer to his comfort — his heart was 
 the victim of anxiety and grief. The continued and 
 alarming indisposition of his friends at Brighton, 
 inspired his delicate and susceptible mind with the 
 most gloomy and agonizing fears. It was well. His 
 heavenly Father saw he needed some thorn in the 
 flesh, under the circumstances of his unexampled 
 popularity, to prevent his being exalted above mea- 
 sure — and to preserve his soul in a frame of holy 
 solemnity, and humble reliance on himself. Lest 
 
200 LIFE OF SPENCER. *>*»* «#• 
 
 the sun of bis prosperity should dazzle him too 
 much, these friendly clouds were permitted to in- 
 tervene. Their salutary influence may be traced in 
 the following letter. ) 
 
 Letter XLL 
 TO MR. JOHN HADDON* 
 
 " Liverpool, April Id, IS If. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 " The melancholy stale of depression 
 in which I have been held so long, must form my 
 excuse for neglecting the sacred duties of friend- 
 ship, in not writing before this to you. Oh ! how 
 
 soon can Jehovah blast our hopes of happiness from 
 creature comforts, to convince us of the uncertainty 
 of all earthly good. We must " walk by faith," 
 and live in the exercise of a lively hope that we 
 shall obtain a better and more permanent rest. I 
 scarcely dare, for my own part, anticipate any other 
 kind of happiness on earth, but what may arise from 
 communion with the Saviour, and the delightful 
 work in which I am engaged, which, I must say, 
 amidst all my trials, affords me increasing happiness 
 and pleasure. Thanks be to God, the work of the 
 Lord is prospering in my hand ; and though I may 
 not have much pleasure in this world myself, I hope 
 I shall be the means, in the hands of the Holy Spirit, 
 of putting into the possession of my fellow creatures, 
 real and substantial felicity; this, the Gospel I am 
 enabled to preach is sent to confer. The next 
 week I expect to go to my lodgings. I shall reside 
 in a retired rural and delightful spot, with a family 
 (three only in number) who belong to the congre- 
 gation in which the Lord has graciously called me 
 to labour; it is about half a mile from the town, 
 
chap i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 201 
 
 away from all bustle and noise, commanding a most 
 delightful and enchanting prospect of both land and 
 water. My study affords a most extensive view of 
 fields and hills, the river, and the adjacent county 
 (Cheshire.) I am persuaded it is every thing I could 
 wish for as a plan for my residence. In that plea- 
 sant study* I expect to spend much time, and enjoy 
 some degree of pleasure ; and my dear friend will 
 believe me when I assure him, that amidst the afflic- 
 tions which our righteous Father judges the best 
 schools for me, it would tend to alleviate my sor- 
 rows and cheer my spirits, could he be in my new 
 study, and, as he did in my old one, occasionally 
 spend an hour or two with me in social chat. 
 
 " Yesterday I laid the foundation stone of my 
 new chapel, gave an address upon the spot, and 
 dedicated the place to God in solemn prayer. The 
 auditory consisted of not less than five thousand 
 people, who were all fixed in their attention. May 
 I, on that ground, often find a solace for my cares, 
 in the public worship of God ! May he bless the 
 undertaking ! May his eyes and his heart be there 
 perpetually ! 
 
 " Farewell — I must break off by assuring you that 
 " I am sincerely your's, 
 
 " THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 The week following that in which he laid the 
 foundation stone of the new chapel, Mr. Spencer 
 made an excursion into the country, and preached 
 
 * To me it is a melancholy reflection, that I should so soon become 
 the occupier of a spot in which he had fondly pictured to himself so 
 many years of pleasure. In his own study — on his own table — in 
 his own chair — I am now drawing up these memoirs of his life ; 
 — around me are the fruits of his short, but laborious exertions — and 
 immediately before my eyes the path by which he descended to his 
 grave ! From every object within my view, I am admonished, 
 * work whilst it is day, for the night cometh, when no man can 
 work.' I would that every loiterer in the vineyard of Christ were 
 attended by mementos such as these. 
 
 *3 
 
202 LIFE OF SPKNCER. r <* BT ** 
 
 on the Tuesday evening at Darzcen, and on the 
 Thursday evening at a meeting of ministers at 
 Blackburn. 
 
 During this journey he suffered much from the 
 complaint to Avhich he was subject;* but although 
 labouring under the pressure of severe indisposi- 
 tion, in the pulpit he rose superior to the influence 
 of langour and pain — and his exertions on that 
 journey are still spoken of by those who witnessed 
 them with delight. 
 
 On his return to Liverpool, Mr. Spencer received 
 a melancholy summons to Chester, to attend the 
 funeral of his early and amiable friend, the Rev. 
 Ebenezer White, and to deliver the oration at his 
 grave. His obligations and attachment to that ex- 
 cellent man have already been recorded. When 
 arrived at the scene of death, his delicate mind 
 seemed overwhelmed in an agony of grief. He 
 stood weeping in unutterable distress over the cold 
 remains of his departed friend. His bosom, formed 
 for friendship, and even then the seat of no ordinary 
 sorrow, was ill prepared to sustain the pressure of 
 a stroke, by which he was suddenly bereft of one 
 who had discharged for him the relations of the 
 father, the tutor, and the friend. Mr, Walter 
 White, who was the witness of his grief, has thus 
 described it: — " I shall not easily forget this dear 
 young man's behaviour on the evening preceding 
 my brother's funeral at Chester. We were stand- 
 ing together by the side of the coffin, viewing the 
 corpse — he wept excessively, and clasping his hands, 
 with great emotion exclaimed, ' Oh ! that I may but 
 finish my course like him !' and turning to me he 
 said, with his usual energy, ' Oh! what a fine 
 thought it is, that the bodies of the saints are pur- 
 chased by Christ as well as their souls.' And then 
 
 * An overflow of bilp, which frequently discoloured his countenance. 
 
™ap. i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 203 
 
 passing his friendly hand gently over my brother's 
 face he said, with great emphasis, ' This body is 
 the purchase of Christ : it cannot be lost — it must 
 revive again — all these limbs must resume their 
 activity. Oh, with what fine sentiments and ideas 
 does the Christian religion furnish ns to what any 
 of the heathenish systems did !' " 
 
 Though excessively agitated in his whole frame, 
 he yet sustained himself to deliver at the grave a 
 funeral oration, characterized by tender and solemn 
 eloquence — the eloquence of feeling and of piety. 
 
 His letters to his friends, for some time after this 
 event, contain occasional allusions to the death of 
 Mr. White, and in a way which proves how much 
 he loved him — how deeply he deplored his loss. In 
 one he says: 
 
 " I have lately been visiting a scene of death at 
 Chester : my worthy friend Mr. White is now no 
 more in this world; but I doubt not, that he shines 
 illustriously in another state of existence. When 
 I was eleven years of age he came to Hertford, and 
 used to spend a great deal of time with me : ah, little 
 did I then think I should have to deliver a funeral 
 address at his interment, and so far away too from 
 the place with which we were then familiar. Peace to 
 his ashes, and eternal joy to his departed spirit ! and 
 ere long may I meet him in that blessed state, where 
 disappointments will no longer be his lot or mine," 
 
 Letter XLII. 
 TO MR. GEORGE MEDLEY, 
 
 " Liverpool^ May 12th, 1811. 
 
 " My very dear Friend, 
 
 " I hope you will not mistake that 
 remissness in writing I have to confess to you for 
 
204 LIFE OF SPENCER. part in. 
 
 neglect, as it arises from the number and pressing- 
 nature of my daily important engagements — and 
 you know I have to undertake all these with a mind 
 always tortured with anxiety, and exercised with 
 the severe strokes of our Father's chastening rod. 
 XiOng and distressing is the illness of both my be- 
 loved friends at Brighton. The event is with God* 
 and I know that he will so manage it, as to advance 
 his own glory, though perhaps not what I should 
 consider my interest. You too, my dear friend, 
 have shared a measure of affliction from the dispo- 
 sals of divine Providence : I have no doubt but you 
 have felt, and felt keenly too ; but you can ' hope in 
 God, for you shall yet praise him, who is the health 
 of your countenance and your God.' His grace 
 shall be sufficient for you, his arm shall sustain both 
 you and yours, and in your cares he will ever feel 
 the liveliest interest. Oh then, cast, my valued 
 friend, cast all your cares upon him, for he careth 
 for you. I often delight my mind with reflecting on 
 the various pleasures we enjoyed together in what 
 the world would call better days: but we, who look 
 upward more than the men of the world do, would 
 call no days or seasons ill or unfortunate, because 
 to us there is a promise made which says, ' As thy 
 day is, so shall thy strength be.' Frequently how- 
 ever do I> with affectionate remembrance of your- 
 self, review the different, the interesting joumies 
 we have taken together. — Now separated by the 
 hand of providence* we serve the same beloved 
 Lord — we press to the same holy and happy state. 
 May grace preserve us all the days of our pilgrim- 
 age on earth, and land us safe in heaven. 
 
 " I think that till very lately I never properly 
 considered the uncertainty of human life, or the va- 
 nity of the world. God has however caused me to 
 hear impressive lectures on these subjects, in such 
 a way as secured my deepest attention, and reached 
 
«»Ar.!. LttfE OF SPENCER. 205 
 
 my inmost soul. Oh that I may learn obedience by 
 the things which I suffer ! 
 
 " I hope I am blessed from above in my minis- 
 terial work : may the Eternal Spirit sanction and 
 succeed my labours. I hope to be ordained the 
 second week in June. Rev. Ebenezer White, of 
 Chester, has recently joined the spirits of just men 
 made perfect. I am going to his funeral. Fare- 
 well : may you keep close to God, and then I know 
 you will be happy. 
 
 • "I am, yours affectionately, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 On the Sabbath evening - following Mr. Spencer 
 preached a funeral sermon for his friend, in his own 
 pulpit at Liverpool, from Deuteronomy, chap. 
 xxxiv. verse 5, ' So Moses, the servant of the 
 Lord, died there in the land of Moab, according to 
 the word of the Lord.' The sermon was solemn 
 and impressive. Thus we record the mortality of 
 others, and drop into eternity ourselves. On that 
 Sabbath evening three months, his own funeral 
 sermon was preached in the same pulpit. 
 
 The following letter was written the day before 
 the funeral of Mr. White : — 
 
 Letter XLIII. 
 TO MR. HAI>BON. 
 
 " May 13fft, 1811. 
 
 " My deaji Friend, 
 
 " I am ashamed when I think of the 
 length of time which has passed since I last wrote 
 to you ; but indeed since then I have scarcely writ- 
 
206 LIFE OF SPENCER. part in. 
 
 ten to any one, so much have I been occupied. 
 What a beautiful and admirable narrative is the 
 Dairyman's Daughter; if you can, get me two hun- 
 dred of them, and send me the very first opportu- 
 nity : they are just the kind of publication I want 
 for several of my hearers. Procure me too some 
 of the Negro Servant; and of all the interesting 
 modern tracts which your owr. discretion may sug- 
 gest. The Rev. Ebenezer White, of Chester, has 
 entered into the joy of his Lord. He was formerly 
 settled at Hertford. I knew him, and highly es- 
 teemed him. I am going to his funeral. Oh how 
 uncertain is human life : how necessary that habi- 
 tual frame of piety which the Holy Spirit can im- 
 part to his believing favourites! May we both 
 enjoy the sanctity of religion, love it for its purity, 
 and be enabled to discern its holy excellencies; then 
 we shall show that our regeneration is real, and our 
 hope of heaven well supported. God is showing 
 me more and more of the uncertainty of all things 
 here, and the necessity of living the blessed life of 
 faith upon the Son of God, who, I sometimes think 
 I can say, " loved me, and gave himself for me." 
 I study a good deal, and find increasing pleasure 
 in it. In visiting, as yet, I have done but very 
 little. The families I am most intimate with are 
 the serious, the pious followers of Christ; for I find 
 that these alone can help me to comfort under my 
 own trials, or in any way do me real good. But I 
 know I must not be selfish. I must labour to do 
 good in any way I can possibly think of. 
 
 " lam much pleased with my lodgings ; the situ- 
 ation is so retired and beautiful, that it is every thing 
 I can wish. I doubt not but you continue to pray 
 for me ; and I need your prayers. I feel the awful 
 responsibility of my work, and my own unfitness for 
 it. I long to ' present every man perfect in Christ 
 
CHAP 1' LIFE OF SPENCER. 207 
 
 Jesus.' Remember me affectionately to all our 
 friends. 
 
 " I am sincerely your's, 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 Mr. Spencer now became more and more inter- 
 ested in his important work. The scenes of every 
 day appeared to present it to his mind in some new 
 and affecting light. The powers of his soul were 
 absorbed in its concerns. He could think and speak 
 of nothing else. In the pulpit, or in preparations 
 for it — in serious conversation with his friends — or 
 in the chambers of the diseased and dying, he was 
 at home. He lived but for the discharge of his high 
 obligations ; and in the prosecution of his arduous 
 work he was both useful and happy. With asto- 
 nishing rapidity his character and talents ripened. 
 He seemed to grow daily in favour both with God 
 and man. All that saw him, admired him, there was 
 something so engaging in his manner — all that heard 
 him, respected and revered him, so serious and im- 
 portant were the truths which he delivered — all that 
 knezo him, loved him, for his was every amiable qua- 
 lity that could excite and retain the best affections 
 of the human heart. 
 
 Valuable as our public institutions for the edu- 
 cation of students for the Christian ministry really 
 are, they can afford but an inadequate conception 
 of the complicated duties of the pastoral office. 
 The work of the pulpit is perhaps, after all, not the 
 most difficult or trying part of the pastor's employ 
 — and the reason why so many fail when called into 
 active service in the church of God, is probably 
 this, that they never calculated upon one-half of the 
 engagements which then press upon their regard. 
 They had formed a most incorrect estimate of the 
 numerous claims which the office of the ministry 
 involves, upon their time — their talents — their pa- 
 
2(J8 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ni. 
 
 tience — and their faith. They had imagined, that in 
 the composition and delivery of sermons was the 
 chief of their labour — and that when this duty was 
 discharged, by far the heaviest burden was removed. 
 The visitation of the sick, with all the peculiar de- 
 licacy, prudence, affection, and faithfulness which it 
 requires — the consolation of the distressed, with all 
 the caution and skill which the varieties of their 
 grief demaod — the reproof and admonition of the 
 irregular, with all the mingled tenderness, constancy, 
 and fidelity, which in such difficult cases must be 
 exercised — the care of the young, with that adap- 
 tation of temper and manner to their capacities, 
 which, in the work of catechizing, familiar convex 
 sation, or public instruction, is absolutely necessary 
 — the advising, comforting, and relieving the dis- 
 tressed, the embarrassed, and the indigent, avIio all 
 press to him for counsel, solace, and relief; — these, 
 and unnumbered other duties connected with the 
 pastoral office, are perhaps but seldom contemplated 
 with sufficient seriousness amid the exercises of a 
 college. And even in the public engagements of the 
 ministry, the circumstances of the pastor differ ma- 
 terially from those of the student. The pulpit com- 
 positions of the student are general; those of the 
 pastor must be particular. The student has no 
 individual case to suit ; the congregation to whom 
 he preaches are strangers to him : the pastor has as 
 many cases as there are people committed to his 
 charge. The student can select his topics, and 
 adapt his preaching to the tone of his mind ; or, if 
 peculiar reluctance should be felt, may enjoy the 
 repose he wishes, and not preach at all : but the 
 pastor must appear at the stated hours of worship, 
 whatever be the frame and temper of his soul. Often 
 he is called to the discussion of subjects but ill 
 adapted to his feelings ; and it becomes his duty to 
 administer consolation to others which his bleeding 
 
g&ap. l L 1 FE OF SPENCER. 201) 
 
 bosom needs, but cannot take. He must sometimes 
 cover with a smiling countenance an aching heart ; 
 and his lips must exhort to tranquility and confi- 
 dence in God, whilst over his own spirit broods the 
 cloud of anxiety and sorrow. Happy shall I be 
 if the perusal of these imperfect memoirs tend to 
 excite in any bosom a spirit of Christian sympa- 
 thy, and prayer for the ministers of the Gospel; 
 or if these statements of the labours and anxieties 
 of their office, shall induce those to pause and count 
 the mighty cost, who may be thoughtlessly pressing 
 forward to the arduous work. Let such remember 
 the worth of souls — -the guilt of becoming accessary 
 to their ruin — and the solemn account which they 
 must render at the bar of God, who have taken 
 upon themselves the responsibility of seeking, by 
 every possible method, to promote their eternal 
 interests. 
 
 These considerations seemed ever present to the 
 view of Spencer. The feelings of an affectionate 
 and faithful pastor's heart breathe in every sentence 
 of the following letter. 
 
 Letter XLXV. 
 TO MR. HADDON 
 
 
 
 ' : Liverpool, May 31, IS 11. 
 
 " My dear Friend, 
 
 *' You really must excuse my appa- 
 rent neglect in not writing to you before; but if you 
 knew the number and pressing nature of my avoca- 
 tions, you would not wonder. I now feel, and deeply 
 too, the dreadful responsibility of my employment. 
 I have sick beds constantly to attend — a numerous 
 congregation committed to my charge — a character 
 to sustain, which ought ever to appear free even 
 
210 LIFE OF SPENCER. part mi.. 
 
 from the very appearance of evil — and all this with 
 the most depressed state of feelings, and but little 
 experience of the arduous duties the course of the 
 Christian ministry embraces. Often do I exclaim, 
 ' who is sufficient for these things f Oh that I may 
 find that my sufficiency is of God. I am led at 
 times to derive encouragement from the good which 
 I trust the blessed Spirit has accomplished by my 
 feeble labours ; but then I think again of my youth, 
 my inexperience, my exposure to the fiery darts of 
 the wicked one, and the possibility of my eventually 
 becoming * a cast-away? 
 
 " Oh ! there are many feelings of this painful 
 class in my mind, which few can share, which I can- 
 not dare, frequently, to communicate. 
 
 " All this, and much more, do I daily feel. I 
 wish you were with me. I could say a thousand 
 things I cannot write, and you might console me 
 with the comforts wherewith you yourself are com- 
 forted of God. Do pray for me, for I need it more 
 than ever now. Often do I dispense to others that 
 consolation I cannot take myself. 
 
 " Thank you a thousand times for Cecil! Oh, 
 they are admirable : what a character was he ! Oh 
 that the Head of the church would but make me like 
 him. The tracts are just what I wanted : may a 
 divine blessing attend the distribution of them. 
 Farewell. 
 
 " I am your's affectionately, 
 
 *<< THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 In another letter he writes : 
 
 " Cecil's works are a high treat indeed ; you can- 
 not think how I enjoy the perusal of them. There 
 are such valuable hints for ministers — such inestim- 
 able directions, that I hope I shall evince the benefit 
 of reading them to the last hour of the day in which 
 I am appointed to work," 
 
CHAP. II. 
 
 His Ordination. 
 
 THE church and congregation at Liverpool now 
 became anxious for Mr. Spencer's ordination, and 
 Thursday the 27th of June was appointed for that 
 solemn service. In the following- letter he announced 
 it to his early friend and patron, Mr. Wilson, whose 
 presence on that occasion he earnestly desired. 
 
 Letter XLV. 
 TO THOMAS WILSON, ESQ. 
 
 <: Liverpool, June 4, 1811. 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " 1 am happy to inform you, that 
 Thursday, June the 27th, is the day appointed for 
 my ordination. Will you allow me to expect the 
 pleasure of your presence and society at that so- 
 lemnity? If you were here, you would be pleased 
 with my prospect of usefulness, and you would be 
 able to suggest some hints to our friends about the 
 new chapel. Little things are apt to be neglected, 
 and their neglect, though apparently trifling, would 
 spoil the whole concern. We may well congratu- 
 late each other on the triumph the Dissenters have 
 obtained over an intolerant and oppressive spirit. 
 They have imagined a vain thing : the Lord reign- 
 
£12 LIFE OF SPENCER. partus. 
 
 etb, let the people tremble. You know the great 
 depression of spirits under which I have for some 
 time laboured ; may the Lord appear a present help 
 in this time of trouble. The walls of Zion are to 
 be built, it appears, in troublous times, for such 
 they are to me : yet I would submissively commit my 
 cause to God ; he may ordain that the benefit of his 
 church, and the good of others shall be promoted 
 by the ills I endure. You know poor White, of 
 Chester, has received the end of his faith — the sal- 
 vation of his soul ; I delivered the oration over his 
 grave. Mr. Fletcher, of Blackburn, preached his 
 funeral sermon. We are all dying creatures, has- 
 tening: to the world of immortality. I think that 
 lately the world has appeared to me in its true light 
 — ' it passeth azcay? May we by every dispensa- 
 tion of Providence be rendered more meet for the 
 inheritance of the saints in light : in due time may 
 we be clothed upon with our house which is from 
 beaven. Present my kind respects to Mrs. and 
 Miss Wilson. I hope you will try to visit Liver- 
 pool by the time mentioned. Wishing much to se© 
 you, I remain, dear Sir, 
 
 *' Affectionatelv vour's, 
 
 « THOMAS SPENCER." 
 
 The day of ordination at length arrived. The 
 chapel in which Mr. Spencer preached being but 
 small, that service, which, amongst Dissenters of 
 the congregational order, is remarkably solemn, 
 was performed at the chapel in Byrom street, Liver- 
 pool, which was handsomely granted to the peo- 
 ple at Newington chapel for the purpose. It was 
 indeed an interesting day. Tile services were com- 
 menced by the Rev. William Evans, of Stockport, 
 who read suitable portions of scripture, and im- 
 
chap. ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 213 
 
 plored the divine blessing upon the sacred engage- 
 ments of the day. The Rev. Joseph Fletcher, 
 M. A. of Blackburn, then delivered an admirable 
 introductory discourse, and received from Mr. 
 Spencer his confession of faith, together with an- 
 swers to the questions usually, on such occasions, 
 proposed to the minister to be ordained; Mr. Spen- 
 cer then kneeling down, surrounded by his fathers 
 and brethren in the ministry, the Rev. Joseph Cock- 
 in, of Halifax, offered up the ordination prayer, 
 accompanied by the imposition of hands. To this 
 act of ordination succeeded a most impressive and 
 affectionate charge from the Rev. William Hordle, 
 of Harwich, Mr. Spencer's former tutor and friend. 
 The passage on which this excellent address was 
 founded was, Colossians, chap. iv. verse 17, ' Take 
 heed to the ministry which thou hast received in the 
 Lord, that thou fulfil it.' The Rev. William Rohy, 
 of Manchester, preached to the people of Mr. Spen- 
 cer's charge, upon the duties which devolved on 
 them in the relation that day publicly recognized, 
 from Galatians, chap. iv. verse 18, * It is good to 
 be zealously affected always in a good thing.' The 
 service was throughout most affecting and impres- 
 sive ; it was characterized by a peculiar solemnity, 
 both in the feelings of the ministers and the people. 
 The tender frame and delicate mind of Spencer was 
 nearly overwhelmed by the awful considerations 
 which then pressed upon him. Had the melan- 
 choly event which so rapidly succeeded this inter- 
 esting service been at that time certainly announced, 
 a seriousness more suitable to the occasion could 
 hardly have been inspired ; and indeed in Mr. Hor- 
 dle's charge there were passages which in the sad 
 sequel of this history appear most singularly appro- 
 priate — bordering even on the prophetic. One in 
 particular deserves to be recorded : 
 
 " You, my dear young brother, must die, and 
 
214 LIFE OF STENCEE. wm "** 
 
 stand at the bar of God. Your ordination service 
 may be only a prelude to your funeral service ; for 
 what is man I Man is but of yesterday, and his 
 days are as a shadow. How often have we seen 
 the sun go down while it is yet day ! and while the 
 church has been pleasing itself with the prospect of 
 enjoying the pious fervent labours of an endeared 
 minister for years, has an unexpected stroke sepa- 
 rated them for ever. Mourning- survivors wonder- 
 ing have said, * Verily thou art a God that hidest 
 thyself, O God of Israel, the Saviour.'" 
 
 Too often such remarks as these are allowed to 
 pass unnoticed by the thoughtless — are merely con- 
 sidered as expletives to supply the want of other 
 matter — or splendid furniture to decorate and give 
 effect to the address. The anticipation, though 
 founded in reason, warranted by scripture, and au- 
 thorized by experience, is yet unaccompanied by 
 any certain assurance of the event it realizes ; and 
 its connexion with any special decree of God is con- 
 cealed from mortals. But there are seasons when 
 the lips of holy men seem to utter something more 
 than those vague admonitions of death, which, from 
 their frequent recurrence, or the uncertainty of their 
 immediate accomplishment, lose their power to im- 
 press. And to those who admit the doctrine of 
 divine influence upon the minds of men, and more 
 especially upon such as are appointed to state and 
 enforce the solemn doctrines of revelation to man- 
 kind, it can be no source of astonishment that God 
 should sometimes direct the thoughts and expres- 
 sions of his ministers into a current adapted to cer- 
 tain ends he has to answer, or particular events he 
 intends shall shortly come to pass. With respect 
 to the passage above cited, and its corresponding 
 event, persons will form their own opinion. I can- 
 not, however, but regard it as adding somewhat to 
 the force and propriety of observations such as these 4 
 
ckap.ii. LIFE OP SPENCER. 215 
 
 since here was another instance in which the event 
 anticipated by the speaker as possible* though at 
 the time, perhaps, regarded by the hearers as highly 
 improbable, was but too surely realized. 
 
 Mr. Spencer was now fully invested with that 
 sacred office, which from his infancy he had desired ; 
 and he set himself diligently to the discharge of its 
 momentous duties. That he felt its importance, 
 was evident to all. His habitual conduct and con- 
 versation proved it. To his most intimate friends 
 he freely expressed his anxieties respecting it, and 
 earnestly did he implore an interest in the prayers 
 of his people, and his brethren in the ministry. In 
 the assurance that he laboured amongst a praying , 
 people, he felt confidence : and no consideration is 
 more adapted to relieve the mind of a faithful minis- 
 ter than this — while it pours unseen a thousand 
 blessings on his head, it secures to his labours an 
 affectionate attention, and an earnest desire rightly 
 to appreciate and improve them. That which per- 
 sons make the subject of earnest prayer, they will 
 usually value ; and it is hardly possible but that good 
 must be the result, when both minister and people 
 come from their closets, which have witnessed their 
 fervent intercessions for each other, to the house of 
 God. The apostle knew how to estimate the pray- 
 ers even of the meanest Christians who enjoyed his 
 labours. ' Brethren, pray for us.'* It is true that 
 a people will for the most part take the cast of tht ir 
 religious character from that of their minister : if Le 
 be much alive to God, and zealous in the discharge 
 of his ministry, he will communicate the sacred flame 
 to all around him, and cause his people to reflect on 
 
 • See an admirable sermon upon this subject by the Hev. William 
 Jay, of Bath, preached at the settlement of the Rev. Henry Forster 
 Burder, A. M. at Hackney. Every pious minister, who knows its 
 worth, must wish to see this excellent discourse in the hands of his 
 people. 
 
216 LIFE OF SPENCER. pabt tt*. 
 
 every side the light his preaching* and his example 
 shed. But on the other hand, are there no instances 
 in which the reverse of this has been the case? The 
 minister has been gradually disheartened and dispi- 
 rited by a cold, supine, and worldly-minded people, 
 who have continually thwarted him in his generous 
 designs— counteracted his benevolent efforts- — and 
 quenched, by indifference and neglect, the ardour 
 of his zeal. Instead of assisting him in his glorious 
 work, they have hung like weights about his gar- 
 ments. Instead of acting as pioneers to prepare 
 the paths of Christian benevolence for his willing 
 feet to tread, they have clogged up the avenues with 
 obstacles, and lined the way with insuperable diffi- 
 culties. The spirit of the man has been broken by 
 perpetual disappointment — vexation has gradually 
 enervated his mind — and by slow and imperceptible 
 degrees he has sunk into torpor and indifference — 
 and the languor of the pastor has at length presented 
 an unhappy counterpart to the supineness of the 
 people. And even where neither the cause nor the 
 consequences obtain to so alarming and fatal degree, 
 still it is to be deplored that any approach to them 
 should be suffered to exist. Here the stated attend- 
 ants on a gospel ministry may often find a reason 
 for that want of pleasure and improvement which 
 sometimes they deplore, though most unjustly, at 
 the preacher's cost. If prayer, special and fervent, 
 for a blessing on their pastor's labours, has been 
 neglected, the mystery is at once developed. For 
 they have no right whatever to expect a blessing 
 without prayer ; and as they have no right to ex- 
 pect it without prayer, neither are they in a suitable 
 frame to receive it; and thus it often happens, that 
 where the prayerless soul departs empty away, the 
 humble and earnest petitioner obtains a rich and 
 suitable supply from the same table, and of the same 
 Ibod. It is light bread to the one s but it is life- 
 
■cflAP.n. LI F E 0$ SPENCER. 217 
 
 gi ving and substantial provision to the other. ' Ask, 
 and ye shall receive,' 
 
 On the first Sabbath in July Mr> Spencer dis- 
 pensed, for the first time, the solemn ordinance of 
 the Lord's supper. It was a time of love — a season 
 of refreshing from the presence of the Lord* Tho 
 sweet impression of that happy day still remains, 
 and its memory is yet dear to many. On the fol- 
 lowing Monday evening, at the social prayer meet- 
 ing, in the bosom of his people, he again solemnly 
 dedicated himself to God, and renewed his vows to 
 consecrate all his powers to their service in the work 
 of the ministry, Indeed, all he wrote, or said, or 
 did, indicated the holy fervour of his soul. Tenderly 
 alive to the sacred delicacy of his character, he was 
 anxious to sustain it well, that the cause of Jesus 
 might not suffer by any spots it might contract. 
 Conscientiously awake to every call of duty which 
 his most responsible station might involve, he was 
 ready to obey them all — that the ministry might not 
 be blamed. The following letter is from his corres- 
 pondence about this time, and may be numbered 
 with the last he ever wrote. The expressions which 
 I have copied are mingled with others sacred to the 
 privacy of friendship. — They promise pleasures never 
 realized — unfold prospects suddenly destroyed — and 
 #:eoord arrangements he was not permitted to fulfil. 
 
 Letter XLVI. 
 TO MR. HADDON. 
 
 * Liverpool, July 8, 1811. 
 
 * My dear Friend, 
 
 W *7p ^ --ft" ^ 
 
 " The ordination has, for the last fortnight, occu- 
 pied almost the whole of my attention, and the 
 
 L 
 
218 LIFE OF SPENCER. part in. 
 
 impression, the solemn, the holy impression gf which 
 I trust I shall never forget. Yesterday, for the first 
 time in my life, I administered the ordinance of the 
 Lord's supper, and found it to be indeed ' a time of 
 refreshing from the presence of the Lord/ My 
 duties are more and more important and pressing-. 
 Conversations upon religious experience with can- 
 didates for admission into our church, the baptism 
 of children, and the calls of the sick and dying, must 
 necessarily engage much of my attention. But I 
 can sincerely bless God, that amidst all the depres- 
 sion of mind I have suffered, my work has been my 
 delight. The duties of the ministry have often 
 refreshed, instead of oppressing me. The pleasure 
 of the Lord has prospered in my hands. I love the 
 service of the Head of the church better than ever 
 I did : when I am watering others, I find that Jeho- 
 vah the Spirit waters my own soul too. Oh, is not 
 this an encouraging token for good? 
 " In great haste, 
 " I am ever your affectionate friend, 
 
 « THOMAS SPENCER," 
 
 In the mean time, Mr. Spencer was not confined 
 to his own pulpit. He gave his brethren in the 
 ministry tokens of his affectionate regard, by offici- 
 ating for them in their respective places : and he 
 also made several excursions into the country. Mr. 
 Spencer did not encourage the idea, that as he had 
 become by voluntary consecration the minister of a 
 particular church, the church in general had now 
 lost every claim upon his kind attention. Nor were 
 the people amongst whom he laboured of a disposi- 
 tion so selfish and narrow, as to wish to confine his 
 exertions exclusively to the spot they occupied. 
 That the Jirst and constant regards of a pastor are 
 
«"ap ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 219 
 
 clue to the people of his charge, none can dispute ; 
 but with the work of the pastor, to a certain extent, 
 may with the greatest propriety be associated that 
 of an evangelist. There are surrounding- districts 
 that will often cry to him for help, which he is bound 
 to render : there are destitute societies to whom he 
 must minister consolation and instruction, in token 
 of his brotherly love — and there are interchanges of 
 friendship, which promote union, which relieve the 
 mind, and which will ever be found beneficial to the 
 -churches by whom they are encouraged. Inter- 
 course with society informs the judgment — corrects 
 the views, and expands the mind. Long labour in 
 one appointed sphere, however important and de- 
 lightful, and especially where all the powers of the 
 mind arc ever on the stretch, must produce at length 
 weariness, sameness, and monotony. A visit to 
 another scene — intercourse with other connexions 
 — refreshes and revives the wasted spirits and the 
 weary frame. And the church, however they may 
 value their pastor's ministry and regret his absence, 
 •will not be losers in the end by the temporary priva* 
 iion they may suffer. 
 
CHAP. III. 
 
 An aceount of the last week he spent on eartfa. 
 
 WE must, however reluctant, pass on to the closing 
 scenes of Mr. Spencer's life. As his death was sud- 
 den, I have none of those sayings or sentiments to 
 record which occupy the last pages of most biogra- 
 phical sketches of departed saints. And yet Ins 
 friends remember, with peculiar pleasure, in what a 
 holy frame of mind he appeared to be during the 
 whole of the week previous to his^ removal. If I 
 should be more minute than may be deemed abso- 
 lutely necessary in what remains of these imperfect 
 memoirs of this lovely youth, I trust that I shall be 
 forgiven. I write for friendship : and to his friends 
 it must afford peculiar gratification to follow him 
 through all the scenes he visited, and mark the 
 slightest movements of his mind during the last 
 week of his residence on earth. 
 
 On Sabbath day, July 28th, being the day ap- 
 pointed for a collection for the new chapel, Mr. 
 Spencer preached a most excellent sermon in the 
 morning from Ezra, chap. ix. verse 8, ' And now 
 for a little space grace hath been shewed from the 
 Lord our God to leave us a remnant to escape, and 
 to grive us a nail in his holy place, that our God may 
 lighten our eyes, and give us a little reviving in our 
 bondage/ In the evening his text was, Acts, chap, 
 xiii. verse 26, ' To you is the word of this salvation 
 sent.' On that day he exerted himself greatly, and 
 complained much of a pain at his heart, but did not 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 221 
 
 seem at night particularly fatigued. The following' 
 day he spent chiefly in conversation with his friends 
 respecting the state of the church, and some candi- 
 dates for communion who were to he visited and 
 received during that, week — he dined at the house 
 of a friend — in the afternoon visited the sick room 
 of one of his members — and in the evening attended 
 the prayer meeting at the chapel, when he recapi- 
 tulated the outline of a sermon which had been 
 preached on the Wednesday evening preceding, by 
 the Rev. Mr. Davies, of Loudon. His memory 
 was remarkably retentive, and he gave in that ex- 
 ercise a proof of its powers which astonished all 
 that heard him. He slept that night in Liverpool, 
 and early on Tuesday morning he went with a friend 
 to Prescot, and laid the foundation stone of a new 
 chapel there, and delivered an address adapted to 
 the occasion, in the presence of a large assembly. 
 From the ground he retired to the house of a gen- 
 tleman in Prescot, whose child he then baptized, and 
 so proceeded immediately to St. Helen's, a town 
 about four miles distant, where he preached in the 
 evening. On Wednesday afternoon he returned, 
 much fatigued, to Liverpool, but preached in the 
 evening with great animation, from a text selected 
 for him by one of the young persons of his church. 
 Revelation, chap. ii. 4, ' Nevertheless, I have 
 somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy 
 first love/ The Rev. Mr. Wray, the missionary at 
 Demerara, was then in Liverpool, and was at the 
 chapel. A friend who saw Mr. Spencer in the ves- 
 try after service, observed him to be much exhaust- 
 ed, and heard him say for the first time, " Oh, I 
 did not feel comfortable in seeing a brother minister 
 in the congregation this evening." Usually he did 
 not fear the face of man. On Thursday, about noon, 
 one of his deacons called upon him at his residence, 
 and he was occupied the whole day with him in visit- 
 
222 LIFE OF SFEMCEE. part tit. 
 
 ing those who were to be received into the Ghurch; 
 his conversations with the respective candidates 
 were truly admirable and appropriate, and such as- 
 will remain in the grateful memory of those who had 
 the happiness to enjoy them. On Friday he was 
 occupied until the afternoon in writing letters to his- 
 friends. I am able to present the reader with ex- 
 tracts from two of them. 
 
 " August, 2, nn. 
 " I find growing pleasure in my ministerial 
 employment; this evening I have to admit eight new 
 members to church communion ; indeed when I ac- 
 cepted this situation, I never conceived that I should 
 have half the engagements or duties to attend to 
 which I now find must be accomplished, if I would 
 merit the character of an active, useful minister of 
 religion. I think my recent afflictions, and the 
 solemn duties which now devolve upon me, have, in 
 k considerable degree, chastened my character, and 
 imparted, perhaps, a seriousness to my general de- 
 portment, which may prove highly advantageous to 
 jne in future life. How long this will last I cannot 
 tell, but I think affliction adds a weight to a cha- 
 racter nothing else does, and especially to young 
 people and young ministers. I have lately been 
 preaching in the villages round Liverpool. Oh, let 
 us aim to glorify God, and then trust all our con- 
 cerns in his hands, that so at the last we may be 
 accepted of him." 
 
 In another, to his father, he says : 
 
 " I was much hurt at the account of my mother's* 
 illness ; I hope no distressing circumstances have 
 arisen; and by this time, perhaps, I may indulge 
 the idea that you are better yourself. Oh ! how 
 necessary that we should all seek a better country, 
 
 * His step^mothcr. 
 
chap. in. X1FE OF SPENCER. 223 
 
 since here there is so much change, affliction', and 
 woe. May every trial be sanctified to us all, and 
 we be meetened for the inheritance of the saints in 
 light." 
 
 Having concluded his earthly correspondence 
 with his distant friends, for ever,* he left his resi- 
 dence, and resumed his pastoral visits amongst his 
 people, and the candidates who were to be that 
 evening received. At the church meeting he was 
 particularly lively; with holy joy he welcomed the 
 new members into the communion of the church, 
 and as he gave to each the right hand of fellowship, 
 he addressed a short but most affectionate and so- 
 lemn exhortation, admirably adapted to their respec- 
 tive ages, stations, and feelings. Indeed all the 
 duties of the pastors office were conducted by him 
 with a propriety and an ease which years of expe- 
 rience are frequently unable to supply. With the 
 unaffected simplicity of youth he tempered the dig- 
 nity of age — he seemed to be at once at home in the 
 duties of his new and important station — never em- 
 barrassed or confused : he appeared to have an 
 intuitive perception of what belonged to his charac- 
 ter and office, in every case as it arose; and following- 
 the inward suggestion, he acquitted himself well, 
 and discharged, with undeviatiug consistency, the 
 high responsibilities he bore. 
 
 After the meeting, Mr. Spencer spent the evening 
 in serious conversation with a few friends ; leading 
 with great fervour the devotions of the family, and 
 
 • His correspondence with his beloved and honoured parent is 
 renewed. Spencer's father sleeps the sleep of death ; his body rests 
 in his bed, but his spirit walks in its uprightness. He was a venera. 
 ble saint. Few have felt the pressure of trials such as his, and few 
 have displayed a spirit more uncomplaining and resigned. He walked 
 with God. Repeatedly before his departure he assured his family 
 that he was going to glory. And on the 25th of December, 1812, his 
 happy spirit was dismissed to the enjoyment of its rest. 
 
224 XJFE OF SPENCER. jmrt Hi, 
 
 dosing a day of sacred duties with uncommon calm- 
 ness and placidity of mind. 
 
 The following mornings Saturday, he spent in his 
 study in preparations for the pulpit. In the course 
 ©f the day he wrote to a young lady, one of the num- 
 ber received, the preceding evening, into his church 
 — at the close of the note he said, — 
 
 " I suppose you anticipate to-morrow with feel- 
 ings of solemnity. You will appear in a new light 
 to the church of Christ, and the spectators of our 
 holy solemnities ; we shall share to-morrow Zion's 
 chief feast. May the blessing of the God of ordi- 
 nances be upon us all. Wishing you the enjoyment 
 of perfect health, and much communion with your 
 best Friend, 
 
 " I remaim^Scc. 
 
 "THOMAS SPENCER," 
 
 After dinner on the Saturday, the conversation 
 turned upon a passage in Ezekiel — " I will cause: 
 you to pass under the rod, and I will bring you into 
 the bond of the covenant ;" from which Mr. Spencer 
 took occasion to speak much at large upon the na- 
 ture and stability of the covenant of grace. In the 
 evening he met the Rev. Messrs. Charrier, Lister* 
 and Wray, the missionary, together with Mr. Laird* 
 of Greenock, and others, at the house of a friend* 
 It was a pleasant interview, and in reflection has 
 afforded to the persons who composed that social 
 party the sincerest pleasure. To his most intimate 
 friends, it is a source of much satisfaction that his 
 pastoral engagements that week were such as every 
 day to bring him into their society — so that they had 
 constant intercourse with their departed friend — 
 and passing with him from house to house can look 
 back and say, * did not our hearts burn within us 
 while he talked to us by the way, and opened unto 
 \ts the scriptures !' — —Like the companion of Eli- 
 
chap. in. LIFE OF SPENCER. 225 
 
 jah, they walked with him in close connexion from 
 spot to spot, charmed and edified with the holy 
 strain of his discourse, and the rising lustre of his 
 character; but all unconscious, that whilst they 
 were thus conversing with him upon earth, the cha- 
 riot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof were pre- 
 paring to conduct him triumphantly to heaven. 
 
 But the scene closes rapidly upon us. — On the 
 last Sabbath of his life, August 4th, he rose with 
 unusual health and spirits. The family with whom 
 he resided always beheld him with peculiar interest 
 on the morning of the Sabbath, — such an air of 
 angelic mildness and composure sat upon his coun- 
 tenance — and so deeply did he seem absorbed in 
 the contemplation of the sacred duties of the day. 
 That morning he preached from Jeremiah, chap, 
 xxxi. verse 3, ' I have loved thee with an everlast- 
 ing love, therefore with loving kindness have I 
 drawn thee.' The way of his discussing the subject 
 was simple and interesting : I have drawTi thee — to 
 the cross — to the throne — to the church — were the 
 leading ideas in the discourse. It was particularly 
 adapted to the occasion, so many new members 
 being that day added to the church. He afterwards 
 administered the Lord's supper in a most impressive 
 and affecting manner. Such as beheld the scene — 
 and the number of spectators was about three hun- 
 dred — bear an unanimous testimony to the deep 
 solemnity by which it was characterized. His ap- 
 peals to the conscience were so close and over- 
 whelming — his invitations to the faint and weary 
 were so pressing and tender — -his countenance — Ins 
 voice — his whole manner — were so expressive of 
 holy fervour, that every eye was fixed — every heart 
 seemed moved. How long the impression will re- 
 main I cannot tell ; but the emotions enkindled by 
 the transactions of that day are yet lively in the 
 hearts of many — and numbers love to converse upon 
 1*2 
 
226 LIFE OF spencer; «*** nu 
 
 it, as one of those rare and highly favoured seasons, 
 in which the distance between earth and heaven 
 seems annihilated — and so transporting- is the joy, 
 that whether hi the body or wit of the body, the 
 happy Christian can scarcely tell. To a friend, who 
 afterwards hinted that he appeared to be very happy 
 in prayer at the Lord's supper, he replied, "• (> 
 yes; I thought I could have prayed, and prayed, 
 and mounted up to heaven !" At the close of that- 
 memorable service — one, the ardour of whose feel- 
 ings age had checked, observed, that " Mr. Spencer 
 seemed that morning twenty years older in expe- 
 rience than he really was." At dinner he mentioned 
 to the family, that he had received that morning a 
 letter from a friend in London, who had been for- 
 merly reluctant to his settlement in Liverpool, as 
 though it were not the sphere designed by Provi- 
 dence for him. He then expressed the full convic- 
 tion of his own mind, that he was precisely where he 
 ought to be— under such an impression, he observed, 
 that he was perfectly satisfied and happy; and added, 
 " if it had not been the will of God, I should never 
 have settled here." 
 
 In the evening, in the midst of a throng, such as 
 is rarely witnessed, and from which hundreds de- 
 parted unable to gain access, he preached from 
 Luke, chap. x. verse 42, '. One thing is needful, 
 and Mary hath chosen that good part which shall 
 not be taken away from her/ His chief object in 
 this sermon was to shew, that communion with the 
 Saviour is the one thing needful. Throughout the 
 whole discourse, it seemed as if all the powers of 
 his mind — all the ardour of his soul — were infused 
 into his composition and his delivery. In the appli- 
 cation, he was uncommonly urgent with the young 
 — earnestly exhorting them to an immediate decision 
 ©n the side of Christ — representing to them the 
 tolly and the clauger of deferring the important con- 
 
chap. in. LIFE OP SPENCER. 227 
 
 cerns of salvation and eternity to an uncertain fu- 
 turity — and assuring- them, tliatrm/ soon he should 
 meet them at the bar of God, and that there he 
 should be a swift witness against them. 
 
 It was observed by those who were best able to 
 form an opinion on the subject, that his last sermon 
 was, perhaps, the most adapted for usefulness of any 
 he had preached. This observation, which was 
 made immediately after its delivery, has been since 
 confirmed in a most remarkable and affecting- man- 
 ner. — Instances are still perpetually occurring- of 
 the deep impression produced by that discourse ; 
 and not a few, who are now members of the church 
 over which he presided, have dated their first serious 
 thoughts from that memorable evening-. Indeed, 
 the admonitions then with so much earnestness deli- 
 vered, though in themselves peculiarly solemn, were 
 rendered doubly so by the sad event of the succeed- 
 ing morning-. And I believe that it is not too much 
 to say, that, like another Samson, he slew more at 
 his death than in his life. 
 
 After the labours of the day he went to the house 
 of a friend to supper ; he did not appear to be un- 
 usually fatigued. With great fervour he Jed the 
 devotions of the family. He read a portion of 
 scripture, and gave out the 165th hymn of the second 
 book. He was remarkably copious and earnest in 
 prayer — commending- especially to God — the family 
 —the church — the members who had recently joined 
 — the missionary, (who was present) and every object 
 to which his holy and benevolent mind recurred. 
 At supper the conversation was pure and spiritual 
 — such as the book of remembrance in heaven pre- 
 serves — such as will not easily be forgotten upon 
 earth. The subject was sudden death. The coun- 
 tenance of Spencer, always animated, was lighted 
 up with holy joy as he discoursed upon the glory of 
 departed saints — he seemed to realize the scenes he 
 
228 LIFE OF SPENCER. PARTiir, 
 
 attempted to describe,, whilst he expressed his own 
 conceptions of the transport and surprize in which 
 the disembodied spirit will be lost when first admit- 
 ted to the immediate presence of God. He spoke 
 much upon the blessedness of putting 1 off the gar- 
 ments of mortality in a moment, and being caught 
 up unexpectedly and instantaneously to heaven. 
 He appeared to lose the memory of the day's fatigue 
 in the interesting theme, and frequently observed, 
 that he had not for a long time felt himself so free 
 from weariness. A little after eleven he parted with 
 his friends, as it regards this world, for ever. Never- 
 did they discover more of the warmth of his friend- 
 ship, or the ardour of his piety, than in this last 
 happy interview. His countenance was eradiated 
 with smiles of ineffable benignity — his whole deport- 
 ment indicated a mind abstracted from the world, 
 except so far as bound to it by the benevolent de- 
 sire of doing good, and wholly devoted to com- 
 jrhunion and fellowship with God. So mature 
 indeed did his character appear — so ripe did he 
 seem for glory, that some of his friends could not 
 but entertain a presentiment of his early removal. 
 Though not then elevated to a higher sphere, he 
 still appeared mysteriously weaned from earth. His 
 loins were girt, and his lamp burning with unusual 
 brightness, as though he expected the coming of 
 his Lord. In its anticipations of future glory, his 
 happy spirit seemed to try its pinions preparatory 
 to the glorious flight it was about to take* 
 
CHAP. IV. 
 
 Circumstances of his death. 
 
 ON Monday morning, August the 5th — the last day 
 that dawned for him, he rose rather later than usual; 
 his mind was too active for his body :• the exhausted 
 frame required rest. After breakfast, he received a 
 visit from a young lady, one of the members lately 
 admitted into the church. He entered the room with 
 a cheerful smile ; and the family having retired, after 
 
 some general conversation he said, " Well, M — r 
 
 you are now a member of a Christian church ; yes- 
 terday you solemnly professed your faith in Christ,, 
 while the attention of many of our fellow creatures 
 was fixed on you ; God also beheld your profession 
 —all heaven and hell witnessed the solemnity." On 
 her expressing some fears lest she should be unable 
 to act consistently with the profession she had made^ 
 he replied,. " Live near to Christ — be much in com- 
 munion with your own heart — be very frequent in 
 addresses at a throne of grace, and there is no fear 
 of you." Then referring to the long and agonizing 
 distress which he had suffered through the alarming 
 indisposition of his dearest connexions, and which 
 seemed now happily removing, he said, " This se- 
 vere affliction has not been sent but for reasons the 
 wisest and the best ; from it I have learned many 
 lessons, and have enjoyed much of the presence of 
 God under it. O may my heart be filled with grati- 
 tude to him who is the author of all our mercies." 
 He frequently bathed: he found it beneficial to 
 
230 LIFE OF SPENCER. rART '«• 
 
 his health. He purposed doing so that day, and 
 had expressed his intention in the morning. He 
 had just repeated the first verse of Cowper's admi- 
 rable hymn, — 
 
 " God moves in a mysterious way, 
 
 His wonders to perform ; 
 He plants his footsteps in the sea, 
 
 And rides upon the storm,' — ■> 
 
 when one of the family came into the room and said, 
 that if he intended bathing it was time that he 
 should go, as it would very soon be high water. 
 He assented ; but whilst a towel was being pro- 
 cured for him, he turned to his young friend and 
 said, " I can't tell how it is, but I don't feel so 
 much inclined to go to-day as usual." She asked 
 if it was thought good for his health — he answered 
 *t Yes, it will brace my nerves after the exertion of 
 yesterday/' And indeed he had an immediate 
 object in view, for he had folded his paper, and 
 prepared his pen, in order to compose a sermon to 
 he preached in the course of the ensuing week, on 
 behalf of the Religious Tract Society'.* and he was 
 anxious that, by hashing, his mind might be invigo- 
 rated for study, as he had frequently observed it 
 to have that pleasing influence. Mr. Spencer and 
 his friend left the house together, when turning 
 towards the water, he said, " I must go this way." 
 They parted. — His friend sought again the bosom 
 of her family — he went the way whence he never 
 returned. 
 
 The following pages of this history must be filled 
 with weeping, and lamentation, and woe. They 
 must detail as sad a catastrophe as ever humanity 
 or religion mourned. With cheerfulness Mr. Spen- 
 
 * His friend had sent him the speeches delivered at the Breakfast 
 meeting of the Tract Society in London, which he had taken 
 down for him. They were remarkably interesting that year, and 
 the perusal of them had determined him to preach for the institution 
 
chap.iv. LIFE OF SPENCER. 231 
 
 eer took the path which leads across the fields to- 
 wards the Ilerculaneum potteries, a little above 
 which it was his design to bathe. The eye of his 
 friend, beneath whose roof he dwelt, followed him 
 till distance hid him from his sight. Arrived at the 
 spot which he had selected, not so much from a 
 knowledge of the ground, as from the circumstance 
 of its retirement, he asked a gentleman, who had 
 been bathing, and who then was dressing, " if that 
 was a good place to bathe at i" he answered that 
 it was, but that it was rather stony near the side, 
 but better when further in. Mr. Spencer replied, 
 " I rather think that it is a good place myself; 
 and I don't like to bathe near the pottery, there 
 are so many people." Mr. S. then asked again, 
 " Is the tide nigh up?" to which he was answered, 
 " About half past eleven." " Oh dear!" said he 
 " it is near twelve." — As this conversation passed, 
 Mr. Spencer was undressing, and, at intervals, 
 humming a tune. When undressed, he walked 
 towards the water, and spoke to a workman be- 
 longing to the pottery, of the name of Potter, who 
 also was bathing, and who directed him which way 
 to come into the water. While walking in, Mr. 
 Spencer observed, that it was very cold— to which 
 Potter replied, " You will not find it so cold when 
 in." Potter then plunged into the water about 
 breast high, and when he next saw Mr. Spencer, 
 he was swimming within his depth; but soon after- 
 wards the tide swept him round an abrupt projecting 
 rock, where the water was from six to seven feet. 
 Potter himself, who is an expert swimmer, soon 
 found the current driving him round the same rock; 
 but he immediately, with difficulty, swam to the 
 shore, when he looked about for Mr. Spencer, and, 
 not seeing him, w r as much alarmed. At length, 
 after the lapse of a minute or two, he saw the top 
 of his head floating above the surface of the water. 
 
232 LIFE OF SPENCER. ^ ARr «'• 
 
 Potter could not tell whether he was amusing him- 
 self or drowning. He however cried out to him ; 
 but receiving" no answer, plunged in again, and 
 swam to the rock in order to render him assistance 
 — but found it impossible — Mr. Spencer having 
 sunk in seven feet water, and the currents being 
 remarkably strong. Potter, with considerable trou- 
 ble, and not till some time had elapsed, got up the 
 side of the rock, and communicated the intelligence 
 to Mr. Smith, of the potteries, who immediately 
 ordered out two boats, which were directly manned 
 and brought to the spot, when every exertion was 
 made to find the body. 
 
 I have frequently examined the place : indeed, I 
 take a mournful pleasure in visiting the scene ; and 
 I have sought the opinion of medical gentlemen 
 respecting the immediate cause of Mr. Spencer's 
 death. The spot is most unfavourable for safe and 
 pleasant bathing. Whoever sees it at low water, is 
 astonished that any person, acquainted with the 
 nature of the shore, should venture there. Tliete is 
 a ridge of sharp and slippery rock, running in a 
 curved direction, for many yards, into the water, 
 and terminating abruptly. . On either side of this 
 rugged ridge the fall is instantaneous, and from one 
 to two feet. It is highly probable, then, that Mr* 
 S. swimming, as was described, along by the shore, 
 might bring himself up immediately on the edge of 
 this treacherous rock, which being slippery, deceived 
 him, and by suddenly precipitating him into deeper 
 water, caused a spasmodick fear — a combination of 
 instantaneous terror and spasm, — which directly 
 suspended the functions of life, and he sunk, with- 
 out further agitation or conflict, in the arms of death* 
 
 " So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 
 And yet, anon, repairs his drooping head, 
 And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore: 
 Flames in the forehead of the morning sky ■• 
 So Lycidas sunk low x hut mounted high. 
 
chap. xv. LIFE OF SPENCER. 233 
 
 Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves ; 
 
 Where, other groves and other streams along, 
 
 With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 
 
 And hears the, unexpressive nuptial song. 
 
 In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. 
 
 There entertain him, all the saints above, 
 
 In solemn troops and sweet societies 
 
 That sing, and singing in their glory, move, 
 
 And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes." 
 
 In the mean while, the gentleman whom Mr. 
 Spencer first addressed, returned, and, discovering 
 the sad event, apprized them that it was Mr. Spen- 
 cer who was lost. Potter renewed his exertions to 
 find the body, assisted by the people in the boats, 
 in which they at length succeeded, after it had been 
 under water about fifty minutes. By this time the 
 melancholy tidings had spread abroad ; and happily 
 some gentlemen of the faculty being in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and hearing of the event, hastened imme- 
 diately to the spot, so that, ere the finding of the 
 body, every thing was in readiness for instantly 
 commencing the resuscitating process. 
 
 When drawn from the water* the body exhibited 
 no symptoms of violence or struggle in the act of 
 dying — the countenance was placid and serene — its 
 features were perfectly undisturbed, and so lovely 
 was its expression in death, that one of the medical 
 attendants observed,-^ painter could not desire a 
 finer object ! 
 
 On the arrival of the body on the beach, the water 
 was easily expelled, and being then wrapped up in 
 flannel, it was immediately conveyed to the house of 
 Mr. Smith, where, by the kind exertions of the fa- 
 mily, every necessary arrangement had been made 
 for its reception. 
 
 The apparatus having arrived from Liverpool, 
 and three medical gentlemen . being present, the 
 usual methods adopted in cases of suspended ani- 
 mation were instantly pursued. They were soon 
 joined by three other gentlemen of the faculty, who 
 I 
 
234 LIFE OF SPACER. r ^ RT »«• 
 
 rendered every possible assistance; every expedient 
 was, in the course of the afternoon, resorted to — 
 but, alas ! in vain — and at five o'clock, in the opi- 
 nion of all present, there remained not the faintest 
 hope of restoring animation — the spark of life was 
 totally extinguished. 
 
 Thus, in one sad moment, was lost to society and 
 to the church of Christ, one of the loveliest of men 
 — one of the most eloquent of preachers: upon 
 whose lips, only the preceding- day, hundreds had 
 hung' with delight, and the long continued and ex- 
 tended exertion of whose nowers, in a larsrer sane- 
 tuary, the foundation of which he had but recently 
 laid, thousands anticipated with eager desire ! To 
 tell how many hearts have bled beneath this awful 
 visitation, would require a fortitude which I do not 
 possess — and constitute a volume, not surpassed, in 
 the anguish which it would describe, by any similar 
 catastrophe in the records of human woe. The 
 tidings spread through the populous town of Liver- 
 pool with a rapidity, such as, in cases of public ca- 
 lamity, is usually excited. They circulated through 
 all ranks, and inspired one common feeling of regret 
 in every bosom. They reached the exchange, and 
 produced an extraordinary impression there; those 
 who knew him, mourned the loss of one they loved — 
 and those who knew him not, felt the agitation of 
 that sudden shock, which the premature removal of 
 such men occasions — they participated in the gene- 
 ral sympathy — and deplored the loss of Spencer as 
 an event demanding general regret. Numbers 
 hastened to the spot. Some, incredulous, to obtain 
 the sad assurance of the truth — and others, to enjoy 
 the mournful satisfaction of beholding that counte- 
 nance in death, on which they had often gazed with 
 transport, when kindled into radiance by the ardour 
 of the soul that lately animated it. All was confu- 
 sion and distress. SuchadavhasbeeD seldom seeft 
 
chap. iv. LIFE OP SPENCER 235 
 
 in Liverpool : a day of such dreadful gloom — such 
 universal grief. From the countenance of every 
 one, to whom the tidings came, one might have 
 imagined he had lost a brother or a friend ; — whilst 
 many, to whom by intimate acquaintance he had 
 become peculiarly endeared — petrified at first with 
 mingled horror and surprise, when recollection and 
 feeling returned, yielded to the influence of the 
 deepest sorrow. 
 
 The estimation in which Mr. Spencer was held in 
 Liverpool, was most decidedly marked after his de- 
 cease. The public prints severally bore testimony 
 to his worth, and pronounced a warm, but just eulo- 
 gium on his extraordinary merits. The introduction 
 of some extracts will not be imsuitable'here. 
 
 " Mr. Spencer was about twenty years of age ; 
 in his person and countenance eminently prepos- 
 sessing ; and of manners most amiable, conciliating, 
 and engaging. As a preacher, his talents were 
 held in a degree of estimation, and possessed an ex- 
 tent of influence, which have seldom been equalled 
 in the annals of pulpit eloquence. His discourses 
 were rather persuasive and hortatory, than argumen- 
 tative or disquisitive : they were addressed more to 
 the imagination and affections, than to the judgment; 
 and this, apparently, not so much from any defi- 
 ciency of talent, as from a firm persuasion, that, in 
 matters of religion, the avenues to the understanding 
 are chiefly to be sought in the heart. His sermons, 
 thus constituted, were adorned with a felicity of 
 expression, and delivered in an unremitted fluency 
 of language, altogether surprising in extempora- 
 neous discourses. These essential qualities of elo- 
 quence were assisted by an uncommonly distinct 
 articulation, a tone of voice singularly melodious, 
 and great gracefulness of action. Thus gifted by 
 nature, and improved by cultivation, it is. not sur- 
 prising that he possessed the power of attaching an 
 
LIFE OF SPENCER. PART »»• 
 
 audience in a manner that will never be forgotten 
 by those who attended his ministry. Perhaps it 
 scarcely ever before fell to the lot of any individual, 
 at so early an age, to have diffused religious impres- 
 sion through so extensive a circle of hearers ; and 
 those who looked forward to the maturity of his pow- 
 ers, with the hope naturally inspired by his early ex- 
 cellence, will regard his loss as a public misfortune." 
 
 " The deceased was about twenty years of age, 
 a youth of amiable and engaging manners ; and his 
 pulpit talents were so far above his years as to 
 obtain for him a large share of public admiration 
 and popularity. His premature death has most 
 deeply affected the feelings of his numerous friends, 
 who looked forward to the maturity of his early 
 powers, with the highest hope of obtaining in him a 
 most valuable accession to the dissenting ministry." 
 
 But at the solemnities of interment, the strongest 
 demonstration of public feeling was afforded. The 
 concourse of people assembled to witness or assist 
 in the last sad token of respect to his remains, was 
 never, perhaps, equalled in Liverpool. Religion, 
 humanity, friendship, and genius, mingled their 
 tears at his grave. The funeral took place on 
 Tuesday, the 13th August, 181 L: the procession 
 moved from the Park about eleven in the mornings 
 in the following order : 
 
 The Gentlemen of the Faculty; 
 Ministers, four abreast; 
 
 The Pall, supported by ten Ministers, five on each 
 
 side ; 
 
 The Mourners ; 
 
 Friends of the Deceased, 
 
 To the number of One Hundred and Thirty, 
 
 With white Hat-bands and Gloves, 
 
 Six abreast. 
 
chap. iv. LIFE OF SPENCER. 237 
 
 All the streets through which the procession pass- 
 ed, were crowded to excess, as also were the win- 
 dows and balconies of the houses. But the greatest 
 decorum was observed — and a seriousness, accord- 
 ing with the solemn occasion, was manifested by all. 
 The corpse was borne into the chapel, late the scene 
 of Mr. Spencer's labours, and the Rev. Mr. Charrier, 
 of Bethesda chapel, read part of the 1 5th chapter of 
 the 1st epistle to the Corinthians, and the 4th and 
 5th chapters of the 1st epitstle to the Thessalonians, 
 and offered a most solemn prayer. At the grave an 
 eloquent and impressive oration was delivered by 
 the Rev. Joseph Fletcher, A. M. of Blackburn. 
 The mournful service was concluded by a prayer 
 from the Rev. Mr. .Lister, of lame-street chapel. 
 
 " The whole scene," a Liverpool journal ob- 
 serves, " was affecting — it could not be otherwise. 
 Every idea which could be associated with the 
 spectacle was such as to excite the deepest sympa- 
 thy. The flower of youth, scarcely opened, snatched 
 from the stem of life by a sudden and rude attack 
 of mortality ; a minister, who lately fixed the atten- 
 tion of crowded audiences by the power of his elo- 
 quence, conveyed to the house of silence and 
 darkness; the fairest prospects of honour and use- 
 fulness in life blasted ; the warm hopes of his friends 
 wrecked in a moment; and the deep, the dreadful 
 wound inflicted in the feelings of relatives, and the 
 dearest connexions. Such, however, are the ap- 
 pointments of a supreme governing Intelligence, to 
 which human choice and wishes must bow with 
 reverence, supported by the general principle of the 
 justice, wisdom, and benevolence, which direct the 
 affairs of men. Similar afflictions are of frequent 
 occurrence in private life, though they there pass 
 unnoticed. Public characters excite attention both 
 in their zettiib and fall; and so far as society is be- 
 ... 
 
238 LIFE OF srENCKR. pari in, 
 
 reft of virtue, useful talents, and active zeal, their 
 death is a public calamity." 
 
 On the following- Sunday evening a funeral ser- 
 mon was preached at Newington chapel by the 
 Rev. Wm. Roby, of Manchester, from Hebrews 
 xiii. 7, 8, ' Remember them which have the rule 
 over you, who have spoken unto you the word of 
 God; whose, faith follow, considering the end of 
 their conversation, Jesus Christ, the same yester- 
 day, and to-day, and for ever.' This sermon, so admi- 
 rably adapted to sooth the disconsolate congregation 
 to whom it was addressed, has been presented to 
 them, by its respected author, from the press. 
 
 But not in Liverpool alone was the shock of Mr. 
 Spencer's death felt — or the loss occasioned by his 
 sudden, removal deplored. Scarcely was there a 
 district in Britain, to which the melancholy tidings 
 did not reach. The universal esteem in which the 
 beloved youth was held, was manifested by the nu- 
 merous sermons which were preached throughout 
 the country, to embalm his memory, and to improve 
 his death. In London several were delivered, — 
 many singularly eloquent and appropriate ; several 
 have issued from the press, and have been noticed 
 in the preceding pages. Nor was the sympathy 
 awakened for the mourning church less general 
 than the regret occasioned by their pastor's death. 
 - — Of Spencer it may be truly said, ' devout men 
 carried him to his burial, and made great lamenta- 
 tion over him,' whilst the situation of his bereaved 
 people excited in every bosom compassion andgriefi 
 * for they were left as sheep without a shepherd,' 
 
 I am happy in being able to close this sad recital 
 with a poem, most tenderly adapted to the mournful 
 theme, for which I am indebted to the elegant pen 
 
chap. iv. LIKE OF SPENCER. 239 
 
 bf Mr. James Montgomery, to the exquisite pro- 
 ductions of whose genius Mr. Spencer was peculi- 
 arly attached. 
 
 VERSES 
 
 t)n the death of the Rev. Thomas Spencer, of 
 Liverpool, who was drowned in bathing in the 
 tide, August 5, 1811. 
 
 " Thy way is in the sea, and thy path in the ojreat waters ; and 
 thy footsteps are not known."— Psalm lxxvii. verse 19. 
 
 I will not sing a mortal's praise ; 
 To Thee I consecrate the lays, 
 To whom my pow'rs belong ; 
 These gifts, upon thine altar strown, 
 
 God accept — accept thine own : 
 My gifts are thine ; be thine alone 
 
 The glory of my song. 
 
 In earth and ocean, sky and air, 
 All that is excellent and fair, 
 
 Seen, felt, or understood, 
 From one eternal Cause descends, 
 To one eternal Centre tends ; 
 With God begins, continues, ends ; 
 
 The source and stream of good. 
 
 1 worship not the sun at noon, 
 
 The wand'ring stars, the changing moon, 
 The wind, the flood, the flame; 
 
 I will not bow the votive knee 
 
 To wisdom, virtue, liberty ; 
 
 u There is no god but God" for me; 
 Jehovah is his name. 
 
240 LIFE OP SPENCER. >art«i. 
 
 Him through all nature I explore ; 
 Him, in his creatures, I adore, 
 
 Around, beneath, above; 
 But clearest in the human mind^ 
 His bright resemblance when I find, 
 Orandeur with purity combin'd, 
 
 I most admire and love, 
 
 O there was One- — on earth awhile 
 He dwelt ; but transient as a smile 
 
 That turns into a tear; 
 His beauteous image pass'd us by; 
 He came like lightning from the sky, 
 He seem'd as dazzling to the eye, 
 
 As prompt to disappear. 
 
 Sweet in his tmdissembling mien 
 Were genius, candour, meekness, seen, 
 
 The lips that lov'd the truth ; 
 The single eye, whose glance sublime 
 Look'd to eternity through time ; 
 The soul, whose thoughts were wont to climb 
 
 Above the hopes of youth. 
 
 Of old,* before the lamp grew tlark, _ 
 Reposing near the sacred Ark, 
 
 The child of Hannah's prayer 
 Heard, 'midst the temple's silent round, 
 A living voice ; nor knew the sound 
 That thrice alarm'd him ere he found 
 
 The Lord, who chose him there. 
 
 Thus early call'd, and strongly mov'd, 
 A prophet from a child appro v'd, 
 Spencer his course began ; 
 
 I. Samuel iii. 3. 
 
iv. LI FJS OJ? SPENCER. 241 
 
 From strength to strength, from graoe to grace, 
 Swiftest and foremost in the race, 
 He carried vict'ry in his face, 
 He triumph'd while he ran. 
 
 How short his day ! — the glorious prize, 
 To our slow hearts and failing eyes, 
 
 Appeard too quickly won : 
 The warrior rush'd into the field, 
 With arm invincible, to wield 
 The Spirit's sword, the Spirit's shield. 
 
 When lo ! the fight was done. 
 
 The loveliest star of evening's train 
 Sets early in the western main, 
 
 And leaves the world in night ; 
 The brightest star of morning's host, 
 Scarce ris'n, in brighter beams is lost. 
 Thus sunk his form on ocean's coast, 
 
 Thus sprang his soul to light. 
 
 WTio shall forbid the eye to weep 
 That saw him, from the ravening deep, 
 
 Pluck'd like the lion's prey? 
 For ever bow'd his honour'd head, 
 The spirit in a moment fled, 
 The heart of friendship cold and dead, 
 
 The limbs a wreath of clay. 
 
 Hevolving his mysterious lot, 
 
 I mourn him, but I praise him not ; 
 
 To God the praise be giv'n, 
 Who sent him, — like the radiant bow, 
 His covenant of peace to show, 
 Athwart the passing storm to glow, 
 
 Then vanish into heaven. 
 
 M 
 
242 LIFE OF SPENCER. part in. 
 
 O Church ! to whom the youth was dear, 
 The angel of thy mercies hear, 
 
 Behold the path he trod ; 
 A " milky way" through midnight skies ! 
 Behold the grave in which he lies : 
 E'en from the dust the prophet cries, 
 
 M Prepare to meet thy God." 
 
PART IV. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 ♦ Review of Mr Spencer's Character. 
 
 IT now remains that I present the reader with a 
 general sketch of Mr. Spencer s character. Tha 
 opportunity afforded in such works as these, of illus- 
 trating great and important principles, in their influ- 
 ence upon human conduct, ought to be seized with 
 avidity, and improved with care. In this respect 
 Biography is particularly valuable, and possesses a 
 considerable advantage over general history. Tho 
 subjects and characters of general history are nu- 
 merous, complicated, and often but indistinctly seen; 
 — here the object is single. The mind dwells, 
 without diversion or distraction, on the character 
 presented to its contemplation. Being relieved 
 from the toil which variety occasions, it has leisure 
 to dwell upon its several features, and to observe 
 their mutual influence, or associated harmony. The 
 scenes and events of an individual's life, when faith- 
 fully and judiciously recorded, are admirably adapted 
 to develope the formation of character — whilst les- 
 sons of wisdom, and principles of action are better 
 
244 LIFE OF SPENCER. part iv. 
 
 understood and more correctly appreciated, when 
 drawn out in the scenes of actual life, than when 
 abstractedly delivered. And, moreover, the pecu- 
 liar sentiments which the delineation of certain cha- 
 racters is especially calculated to illustrate, are 
 better remembered, when associated with names, 
 with places, and with deeds ; whilst they make a far 
 deeper impression upon the heart, from the circum- 
 stance that their nature and tendency are at once 
 demonstrated, by the actual consequences to which, 
 in these individual cases, they have led. In the 
 pages of the biographer, the man lives again for us. 
 " Being dead he yet speaketh." We are put ill 
 possession, in an hour or two, of knowledge, which it 
 cost him years of anxious labour to acquire. We 
 obtain confidence — we awake to an honourable 
 ambition — we feel the animating influence of hope, 
 whilst we mark the excellencies of his character, 
 and the successful labours of his life. Self-exami- 
 nation is induced, by a contemplation of his failings 
 — and caution, by the disclosure of his errors. Hu- 
 mility is promoted, by observing with how much 
 imperfection the noblest and the loveliest qualities in 
 man are unhappily combined — and the provision 
 which the Gospel makes for our final acceptance 
 with God, derives importance and value from the 
 assurance, which every faithful piece of biography 
 must tend to establish, — that the purest character — 
 the fairest life, must sink before the high standard 
 ^and demands of Jehovah's perfect law. 
 
 In calling- the attention of my readers to views of 
 Mr. Spencer's character, I am aware that the ob- 
 jection may be started — that in one so young, a 
 character could hardly be formed at all. The ob- 
 jection is founded in reason. But although his 
 character had not attained its maturity — or assumed 
 those fixed and -established habits, with which years 
 and experience would have invested it — still it had 
 
chap. i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 245 
 
 arrived at such a stage of its progress, as already 
 to present strong lines, and obvious features. Some 
 so deeply marked as to be recognized by all who 
 knew him — and others, upon the infancy of which, 
 the eyes of his most intimate associates dwelt, with 
 unspeakable delight. And, young as it was, the 
 character of Spencer at the age of twenty, was such 
 as even an aged Christian might not blush to own. 
 I have often gazed, with pleasure, on the animating 
 picture which my fancy drew, when it has added 
 years of experience and of culture, to what was the 
 character of Spencer at his death, and imagined to 
 itself what, after the lapse of time, that character 
 might possibly have been ; and when recalled from 
 the delightful reverie, I have mourned that the 
 lovely object existed only in my fancy. But we do 
 wrong to mourn. His removal from our world was 
 the dictate alike of infinite wisdom and infinite love. 
 And the time appointed for his departure was the 
 best. His character had attained that degree of 
 maturity, for which God had destined it on earth, 
 — he had performed the service which he was called 
 to accomplish in the church. His sun rose with 
 almost unexampled rapidity to its meridian — hi§ 
 work was completed with prodigious speed — yet, 
 having reached his appointed elevation, and per- 
 formed his allotted labour — that was the suitable 
 period for his removal. He had witnessed as much 
 impression and effect, in his short ministry, as many 
 an aged pastor would rejoice to observe, after years 
 of incessant toil. Can his death be considered, 
 then, as premature ? If one labourer accomplishes 
 his share of the day's exertion an hour or two earlier 
 than his companions, may he not be permitted to 
 retire to his rest before them? — Spencer has finished 
 his course — he rests from his labours — and his works 
 do follow him. 
 
246 UFE OF SFENCKR. part iv. 
 
 As a Man, 
 He was generous— frank — independent — 
 
 UNAFFECTED — UNSUSPECTING — and SINCERE. 
 
 — Generous: his heart, his hand, and his purse, 
 were ever at the service of the needy, and cheer- 
 fully devoted to the cause of Christ. An instance 
 of his generosity has been recorded in the preceding, 
 narrative — that of his usually adding to the collec- 
 tion, when he preached for the benefit of a poor 
 church that had an aged minister. One of the last acts 
 of his life was an act of benevolence ; he had no money 
 about him at the time of his death, for he had emp- 
 tied his pockets to a poor person, previous to his leav- 
 ing the house on the morning of that awful day. 
 Had he lived to be the possessor of a house, and 
 the head of a family, from him the apostolic injunc- 
 tion, * given to hospitality ,' would have met with a 
 spontaneous acquiescence. Unhappily, this quali- 
 fication of a Christian bishop, some of our worthy 
 pastors have it not in their power to display ! Frank: 
 he was open and ingenuous ; his sentiments were 
 ever undisguised ; his language spoke correctly 
 what he thought and felt; and his countenance was 
 an index to Ins mind. Truly was it said of him, that 
 he carried his heart in a crystal vase, so that all 
 could see it. His opinions he never attempted to 
 conceal. His attachments and his dislikes were, 
 with equal freedom and sincerity, declared. The 
 prudent will say, that this displayed but little know- 
 ledge of mankind; true: he was ignorant, and 
 therefore unsuspecting, and often unguarded. He 
 did not calculate upon treachery, under the garb of 
 friendship — or censorious observation, in the social 
 circle. Alas ! that experience should only tend to 
 make a man suspicious, and intercourse with society 
 to render him sceptical in his opinions of his fellow 
 men ! Independent ; perhaps, too much so, for his 
 station as a minister of the Gospel, and especially 
 
chap. i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 247 
 
 as the pastor of a church. He had his partialities 
 and predilections — every man must have them — 
 he cannot be brought, by any discipline, to love that 
 which is totally uncongenial to his taste and habits, 
 however he may be inclined to cherish and testify 
 deference and respect. But these predilections, 
 Spencer was every ready to declare ; and such was 
 his independent spirit, that no consideration of in- 
 terest could induce him to utter a compliment or 
 pay an attention which was foreign from his pur- 
 pose, or repugnant to his feelings. To all, he 
 cheerfully paid the regard which the obligations of 
 his station claimed ; but only with such as his heart 
 and feelings approved, did he share the social inter- 
 course, or the endearments of friendship. And, 
 surely, a man in public life, whilst he pays to all 
 around him such attentions as the functions of his 
 office involve, has a right to select the individuals 
 with whom he will share the social hour, or to whom 
 he may commit the more sacred and retired feelings 
 of his heart. Yet, even here, prudence would sug- 
 gest certain cautions, particularly adapted to the 
 very delicate circumstances in which the pastor of a 
 church is placed. Unaffected ; every thing like 
 affectation and display he abhorred — every thing 
 feminine and soft in manners, he excessively dis- 
 liked. His own were the reverse ; they were cha- 
 racterized by impetuosity and boldness — a decision 
 and a promptitude marked every thing he did. 
 There was often a carelessness about his dress, 
 arising from that indifference to shew and decora- 
 tion^ which, in every thing, he displayed. So ne- 
 glectful was he of his appearance, that he did not 
 wear a watch, till urged repeatedly by the want of 
 it, he at length purchased one. He observed to a 
 friend a circumstance connected with the purchase 
 of this watch, not perhaps unworthy of insertion. 
 He aske^ the man of whom he bought the watch, if 
 
248 LIFE OF SPENCER. 'art iv. 
 
 what he demanded was his lowest price ? M Yes, 
 sir," said the man; " I heard you preach upon see- 
 ing Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom 
 of God, and I will not overcharge you? He loved 
 to preach in a gown ; it tended^ he said, to conceal 
 his youth, and give weight to his sermon, — other- 
 wise he was indifferent about it. How far this may 
 be considered as a sufficient reason for wearing a 
 gown, I cannot determine ; certainly, there are 
 matters of higher moment than this ; and it is surely 
 cause of regret, that great and good men should 
 ever grow warm, and say or do strong things, upon 
 a subject, confessedly so inferior in importance. 
 Unsuspecting — he formed an estimate of every indi- 
 vidual's bosom by the ingenuousness of his own ; no 
 wonder then, if sometimes he should have erred, and 
 the error proved a source of poignant anguish and 
 unavailing regret. He who has never seen a storm, 
 may, all unconscious of his danger, trust the syren 
 sea; but be who has endured the tempest will mark 
 well the signs of the sky, ere he tempt the treacher- 
 ous element that has once deceived. Sincere; 
 
 to have his hand, was to possess his heart; and 
 where he could not give the latter, he never presented 
 the former. Whatever he said, he uttered from 
 conviction ; and on every assurance, the firmest 
 reliance might be placed. 
 
 As a Friend, 
 He was warm — disinterested — and affec- 
 tionate. The fervour of his friendship is suffi- 
 ciently displayed in the correspondence preserved 
 in the preceding pages. His whole soul seems in- 
 fused into his paper; and, if such were his letters, 
 happy must they esteem themsekes who were fa- 
 voured with his private walks and most retired 
 intercourse. " His friendship I can truly say," 
 observes his most iutimate companion, " has given 
 
chap, i LIFE OF SPENCER. 243 
 
 me one of the most lively views that I ever enjoyed 
 of union and communion with the spirits of just 
 men made perfect. — I shall not easily forget the im- 
 pression of awe upon my mind while hearing him 
 preach at White's How, from these words : * Be- 
 cause there is wrath, beware lest he take thee away 
 at a stroke, then a great ransom cannot deliver thee.' 
 I thought, I surely can never more use the freedom 
 of friendship with him. But at his descent from the 
 pulpit, his sparkling eye, friendly squeeze, and affec- 
 tionate pressure of my arm to his side as we return- 
 ed, convinced me that he was still the humble, 
 interesting youth with whom I had taken sweet 
 counsel, and walked to that house of God.' " Nor 
 was he guided in the formation of his friendships by 
 a principle of interest. This indeed governs the 
 world in their associations : — 
 
 " And what is friendship but a name, 
 
 A charm that lulls to sleep ; 
 A shade that follows wealth or fame, 
 
 But leaves the wretch to weep." 
 
 But be sought not high connexions — exalted friend- 
 ships — or splendid alliances — he shrunk from gran- 
 deur, pomp, and parade — he felt uneasy when sur- 
 rounded by any thing like splendour — he preferred 
 the calm mediocrity of life, as furnishing', for the 
 most part, excellence in character, and comfort in 
 
 intercourse ! Of his affection, it were in vain to 
 
 speak^ — no language can describe all the tenderness 
 of his affectionate heart — affection the purest and 
 the most refined. The following is the testimony 
 of one who deeply participated in it : — 
 
 " And surely I may experimentally say, that a 
 more affectionate spirit than that of Spencer never 
 animated a fallen son of Adam. When we first 
 met, he unbosomed himself freely, claimed my friend- 
 ship, with an affection that overpowered me, and 
 entreated the fidelity of friendship, charging me to 
 m 2 
 
250 LIFE OF SPENCER. ™RT iv. 
 
 watch him narrowly, and point out every imperfect 
 tion. If ever the delightful scene recorded 1. Sam, 
 chap, xviii. verse 1, was reiterated, (and doubtless- 
 it often has been) it was when Spencer had made an 
 end of speaking. But proofs of the affection of 
 Spencer's heart are totally unnecessary. I shall 
 mention one only. Soon after we became acquaint- 
 ed, he used to call generally on a Saturday evening, 
 — ' Well, where shall you be to-morrow? with Mr. 
 Foster, I suppose.' ' Why, I suppose so too, un- 
 less you draw me away.' '■ I am sure I should be 
 sorry to draw you away, if you do not see it right : 
 I am sure you must be a loser by hearing me instead 
 of Mr. Foster ; yet if you could see it right I should 
 be very glad.' When he preached in the country, 
 he used, he said, to look round for a retired corner 
 for me, such as I should like, if there. At Hoxton, 
 he pointed out a seat for me, and when he rose from 
 prayer, used to see if I tilled it." 
 
 As a Student, 
 $Ie was diligent — conscientious — and SUC- 
 CESSFUL. Diligent ; to a habit of study he had 
 
 been inured almost from his infancy — the elements 
 of knowledge he obtained under peculiar difficulties 
 — and had he not been inspired by an ardent love 
 of that sacred work, for the honourable discharge 
 of which, he deemed the acquisition of human learn- 
 ing necessary, his name would probably never have 
 been known beyond the circles of his native town. 
 But he longed for the acquisition of knowledge, not 
 from a principle of self-gratification, or the love of 
 fame, but as an auxiliary to his great design. Im- 
 pelled by such a powerful principle, he sought for 
 it with unceasing avidity— and laboured in its pur- 
 suit with unconquerable ardour. But it was his lot 
 to meet with a continued chain of obstacles to the 
 free and ample gratification of his taste for learning* 
 
chap. i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 251 
 
 In his childhood, the circumstances of his family 
 were inauspicious, and he was compelled, at a 
 period when the powers of his mind were unfold- 
 ing, to devote those hours to manual labour, which 
 he would have gladly consecrated to books. The 
 year he spent at Harwich was the only year of 
 uninterrupted study he enjoyed; for very soon after 
 his entrance into Hoxton academy he began to 
 preach — and then, his popularity formed a most 
 serious and insurmountable barrier — whilst, after 
 his settlement in the ministry, the important duties 
 of his new and extensive sphere of action forbad the 
 indulgence of any pursuits in private, but such as 
 bore immediately upon his public work. 
 
 These circumstances, however, taught him the 
 value of retirement, and instructed him in the happy 
 art of husbanding his time. This art he cultivated 
 with conscientious care — and whoever contemplates 
 the numerous papers he has left behind, and com- 
 pares them with the public engagements he per- 
 formed, must be sensibly impressed with a conviction 
 of his diligence. He never entered the pulpit with- 
 out previous preparation. Most of his sermons 
 were written throughout, except the heads of ap- 
 plication, in which he usually trusted to the ardour 
 of his mind, enkindled by the subject which he had 
 discussed, and guided by a holy influence. Not 
 that he slavishly committed his compositions to his 
 memory, and delivered them by rote. For, although 
 his discourses were thus pre-composed, and numbers 
 of them remain, yet not one conveys a correct idea 
 of what his preaching actually was. The reason is, 
 that in the pulpit he followed, not so much the im- 
 pression of his written language on the memory, as 
 the holy and ardent bias of his soul, flowing in the 
 channel which he had previously prepared. The 
 sermon in the study was completely formed — cor-> 
 rectly arranged — and well connected — but to the 
 
252 LIFE OF SPENCER. fart iv. 
 
 lifeless form, delineated on bis paper, and impressed 
 upon his memory, in the pulpit he imparted a living' 
 soul; a principle of ardent piety, which operated 
 as a charm, the power of which few were able to 
 resist. 
 
 Indeed so uniform was his habit of preparation 
 for the pulpit, that when called upon suddenly to 
 address some young persons, he said to a friend, 
 ** I wish you would address the children for me this 
 afternoon ; I have not prepared any thing — T have 
 not considered a subject for them, and I would not 
 offer, even to a child, that which cost me nothing." 
 
 But although this was his usual custom, yet, when 
 extraordinary circumstances conspired to render a 
 departure from it necessary, he could, with the 
 greatest propriety and ease, delight and interest an 
 audience from the rich treasures of his exalted mind. 
 One instance of his powers, in extemporary and 
 unpremeditated address, is related of him in Liver- 
 pool. Some important affair of a public nature 
 engaged the general attention of the religious world, 
 on a Sabbath evening, when as usual he had to 
 preach ; and, anticipating a thin attendance, he had 
 prepared a sermon adapted to the supposed state of 
 his auditory — but, when he reached the chapel, and 
 saw it filled with anxious crowds, waiting to receive 
 from his lips the words of life — his ardent mind 
 seemed instantly inspired — he immediately fixed 
 upon a passage more adapted to the scene, and with 
 his pencil sketched the outline of a discourse, which, 
 perhaps, in the whole series of his ministry, he 
 never excelled. 
 
 But Spencer's diligence did not expend itself on 
 commentators and elaborate pulpit compositions — 
 he endeavoured to study providence — to improve 
 events — and, so far as he had opportunity, to read 
 ?nankind. His sentiments on this subject may be in 
 
mm*x LIFE OF SPENCER. 253 
 
 the recollection of the reader . # I believe he uni- 
 formly acted in accordance with them ; and espe- 
 cially, he had an opportunity of doing this when he 
 became the pastor of a church. The propriety — 
 the importance — the utility of this kind, of study, to 
 a minister, is too obvious to need discussion. To 
 its aid may be attributed, in a great measure, that 
 adaptation to the ever varying scenes of the Christian 
 life, which the sermons of Spencer usually possessed. 
 He studied the characters of the people of God — 
 he marked with care the variations of their expe- 
 rience — the alternation of their feelings — and the 
 vicissitudes of their enjoyment. Indeed, his know- 
 ledge in this respect was most amazing-, especially 
 in one so young. He seemed to know, and sweetly 
 to divulge, what every Christian felt and mourned 
 — and he had a balm of consolation for every sorrow 
 
 he awakened — every wound he probed. As a 
 
 student he was 
 
 Conscientious. He was so, in maintaining a habit 
 of study, after the restraints of the college were 
 withdrawn. Too many imagine, that what is im- 
 properly called, finishing their studies — that is, 
 concluding their academic course, is in fact the 
 legitimate close of all mental labour. Upon the 
 stores then acquired, they are to feed, through the 
 long years of an extended ministry, the church of 
 God with wisdom and knowledge. Alas ! for the 
 people over whom such a pastor presides. The 
 stores of that mind must be but scanty at the best, 
 and soon expended; what then but mental and 
 spiritual famine must ensue. Ill does it bode for a 
 congregation, when their minister is a lover of plea- 
 sure — a lover of society — a lover of mirth — more 
 than a lover of study. People should remember 
 this, and should act accordingly. They love to have 
 
 • See page 151. 
 
254 LIFE OF SPENCER. p art ,v - 
 
 things brought from .the sacred treasury before them, 
 new as well as old — but the new cannot be obtained 
 without research, nor the old presented in an attrac- 
 tive form, without thought. To all this, time, and 
 that no scanty portion, must be devoted. And the 
 hours of study must be taken either from the day or 
 from the night — if from the night, it impairs the 
 health — if from the day, it must abridge them of 
 their minister's society. A congregation, then, 
 cannot with justice expect to see their pastor 
 always in their social circles, and yet demand from 
 him on the Sabbath, what much and intense appli- 
 cation only can enable him to produce. A minister 
 worthy of his people's affection cannot be too much 
 esteemed, nor his society too highly valued — but 
 even this authorised attachment may be carried to 
 an injurious length — a people may desire too much 
 — God may gratify their wish — he may send them a 
 busy body in the form and with the pretensions of a 
 minister — and it may be said of them, c he gave 
 them their request* but sent leanness into their soul.' 
 For an unoccupied study, must cause, eventually; 
 an empty mind. 
 
 Mr. Spencer was conscientious in the direction 
 which he gave to his studies. Aware that he had 
 but little time for preparatory labour, and a mighty 
 work before him, we have already seen, that at 
 Hoxton, whilst he performed with cheerfulness and 
 credit the duties of his class, in the various depart- 
 ments of literature and science, yet he consecrated 
 the first and most constant exercises of his mind to 
 such studies as were immediately connected with 
 preaching and the pastoral office.* And when ac- 
 tually embarked in his most arduous profession, the 
 little time he could procure for study he found too 
 precious for the pursuit of any object whose claims, 
 
 * See page 88. 
 
CHAPI LIFE OF SPENCER. 255 
 
 in connexion with the ministry, might hold but a 
 secondary rank. Hence he pursued not so much 
 the study of general literature, as that of Th eo- 
 logy. Aware that the sources of this sacred 
 science, are the Holy Scriptures, and that to un- 
 derstand them correctly, requires an accurate know- 
 ledge of their original languages, he cultivated with 
 great care, the study of the Hebrew and the Greek. 
 To the former of these tongues he was peculiarly 
 attached — his early labours in it have been already 
 stated,* and I believe that his proficiency bore a just 
 proportion to his exertions. On Theology he read 
 very extensively, and for the most part the produc- 
 tions of the Puritan divines. His library was small 
 — it was but in its infancy; but it was well chosen. 
 His study, which remained precisely in the state in 
 which he left it on the morning of his death, was an 
 object of considerable curiosity to the inhabitants 
 and visitors of Liverpool. Many judicious and ve- 
 nerable ministers came to see it, and all expressed 
 their admiration of the taste he had displayed in the 
 selection of his books. There was scarcely a volume 
 that did not bear most obviously on the work of the 
 ministry. The cast of a man's mind may be gathered 
 from an inspection of his library, if the volumes 
 composing it have been of his own selection. Who- 
 ever should form an estimate of Spencer's character 
 from his books, must pronounce him a sound and 
 well-informed divine. 
 
 As a student he was successful. If a man may 
 be deemed successful who accomplishes what he 
 proposes to himself, he certainly was so. He never 
 desired to be a profound mathematician — an acute 
 philosopher — or an accomplished classic — but a 
 useful preacher — a good divine.f As a preacher, 
 
 • See page 23, 
 1 1 think that it must have been apparent from the preceding narr&- 
 
256 LIFE OF SPENCER. pa«t ir. 
 
 few could compare with him — as a divine, he sur- 
 passed most of his contemporaries, of the same age 
 and standing-. But his attainments in classical lite- 
 rature were far from being scanty; that he had read 
 the best Greek and Roman authors, with consider- 
 able advantage, was obvious from the purity and 
 elegance of his style. And in the perusal of those 
 English writers, most justly celebrated for the cor- 
 rectness of their reasoning, and the chasteness of 
 their composition — he was well trained, whilst un- 
 der the tuition of his excellent and revered friend 
 at Harwich. Upon most subjects he was well in- 
 
 tive, that Spencer's great object was usefulness. He seemed in his 
 pursuits to be perfectly insensible to the influence of every other 
 principle, than the love of Christ, and the souls of men. Hence if he 
 attained not to the same eminence in literature with some of his own 
 age and standing, it is not to be attributed either to the want of 
 opportunities or of talents. A mind richly endowed, and naturally 
 ardent, as was his, might have attained any object to which it had 
 consecrated its superior powers. Spencer early selected his. To this 
 he devoted all the faculties of his soul. His mind seemed never for a 
 moment diverted from it ; and in this, as might be expected, he ex- 
 celled. He neither was, nor wished to be accounted a great scholar. 
 A gentleman, intimately acquaiuted with Spencer, and formerly a 
 student in the same institution, and whose estimate of his character 
 and talents is, perhaps, as correct as any that lias been formed, after 
 speaking of his critical and classical attainments, which certainly bore 
 no proportion to his eminence as a preacher, adds, " Do not suppose 
 that I am endeavouring to depreciate him by these remarks. I am 
 far from doing it ; aud I think that when you take into view what 
 was his main object, and what were the high views which occupied 
 every power of his soul, they will be found to increase rather than 
 detract from his eminence. It was his glory to be ignorant of other 
 and inferior things, if thereby he was becoming more acquainted with 
 those which made for his peace, and the peace of thousands who were 
 benefited by his early ministry. It will never after this be surmised, 
 that his want of proficiency in what is called learning, was owing to 
 any want of ability to acquire it. It was to be attributed to the same 
 cause which induced him to refuse an exhibition to Glasgow in my 
 hearing — a love of doing good, and a conviction of the shortness of 
 his day. I am far from being one of those unreasonable persons who, 
 when they find a man rising to distinction in one part of his intellec- 
 tual character, expect that he should be equally prominent in every 
 other, and who look on it as a defect in an Apelles that he was oot 
 an expert cobbler." 
 
™ap.i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 257 
 
 formed, and could converse with ease. He disliked 
 controversy, at any rate, in public, however he might 
 be disposed to try his strength in private. His chief 
 excellence did not lie in the power of conducting a 
 deep, an intricate, and a long continued process of 
 reasoning to a triumphant close. He rather excel- 
 led in clearly unfolding the more prominent features 
 of the Gospel — in stating with correctness the great 
 truths of Christianity, and supporting them by argu- 
 ments purely scriptural — for such discussions he was 
 amply furnished. His knowledge of the Bible was 
 most extensive, and his quotations from it were, in 
 general, remarkably apt and striking. But it was 
 in prayer, chiefly, that his familiarity with the Bible 
 was observed. Not a sentiment escaped him, for 
 which he had not suitable language borrowed from 
 the scriptures : and this rendered his prayers pecu- 
 liarly rich, simple, and appropriate. 
 
 Of elegant accomplishments he possessed but little. 
 1 believe he never touched the pencil. He was fond 
 of music, but he used no instrument, and though 
 perpetually humming tunes to favourite hymns, he 
 was not a good singer. He was much devoted to 
 the love of poetry, especially that of Milton, Young, 
 Cowper, and Kirke White. He was exceedingly 
 attached to Kelly's hymns, and the Countess of 
 Huntingdon's, and frequently repeated from them, 
 with great fervour and delight. When a boy he 
 courted the muse himself, but not with much suc- 
 cess. Though not disciplined in the schools of 
 fashionable life, his manners were easy, and his 
 action graceful ; and these, added to a lovely coun- 
 tenance, and an elegant form, rendered him inter- 
 esting, both in his public engagements, and in his 
 private intercourse. 
 
 As a Christian, 
 He was fervent — holy — and humble. — Fer* 
 
258 LIFE OF SPENCER. part ir. 
 
 vent ; his piety was the ardour of an unquenchable 
 flame. With him religion was no matter of mere 
 profession and convenience ; nor did it lose its im- 
 pression by the frequent recurrence of its subjects 
 and its duties — he seemed to live under its abiding 
 influence — it was wrought into the constitution of 
 his nature — its principles were the springs — its pre- 
 cepts the rule — its objects the end of all his actions. 
 To this he ever had respect— what opposed it he 
 heartily abhorred — what clashed with it he cheer- 
 fully resigned — what injured it he conscientiously 
 avoided. His love to God was ardent. In this I 
 think he much resembled Mr. Pearce, of Birming- 
 ham ; and, indeed, often, when contemplating the 
 life of Spencer, my thoughts have involuntarily 
 recurred to certain traits of character preserved in 
 the memoirs of that glorified saint.* His love to 
 God shed a glorious lustre on his whole character 
 and conduct; every thing that came within the 
 sphere of his influence or operation was irradiated 
 by it. But chiefly would I confine myself now to 
 the influence of this noble principle upon himself. 
 It inspired him with a love of purity: as a Christian 
 he was eminent for 
 
 Holiness* He contemplated the character of G od, 
 and was attracted to it by its purity. " I shall not," 
 says his friend, " easily forget the delight which 
 sparkled in his eye when conversing upon the divine 
 attribute — holiness. ' How sweet,' said he, ' is 
 that word holy I — holy Father — holy Saviour- — holy 
 Spirit — holy Scriptures. — Surely if there is one 
 word dearer to me than another, it is the word 
 holy.' " During his residence at Hoxton, the same 
 friend observed to a student in the institution, whose 
 attention he wished to direct to the character of 
 Spencer, " Perhaps you perceive youthful levity in 
 
 * See Memoirs of the Rev. Samuel Pearce, A. M. with extracts 
 frpm.some of his most interesting letters, by Andrew Fuller, 
 
chap. i. L I FE op SPENCER. 250 
 
 himT " No," he replied, " I have remarked him 
 particularly, but it was for his spirituality" 
 
 His ardent love of holiness enkindled and che- 
 rished in his bosom a corresponding hatred to sin ; 
 and so strong- was this principle of love to God, that 
 the dread of offending his purity sometimes amounted 
 almost to terror, and enveloped his mind in most dis- 
 tressing gloom. A paper composed at one of these 
 melancholy seasons of depression has been recently 
 discovered ; it is entitled, 
 
 " Miserable ills under which I daily 
 
 GROAN." 
 
 Bodily. 
 
 An incessant bilious complaint. 
 
 General languor, nervous feeling, and head-ache. 
 
 The fatigues of my great and repeated exertions in 
 preaching. 
 
 Mental. 
 
 The illness of 
 
 The awful weight of responsibility attaching to the 
 ministerial work. 
 
 The extreme distance between myself and my old, 
 choice, and invaluable friends. 
 
 The impossibility I discover of visiting all the people 
 I wish. 
 
 The little time I can appropriate to study. 
 
 The dreadful state of coldness and formality in reli- 
 gion, which I know the eternal God sees in me, 
 and which, I fear, he hates me for. 
 
 The dread I often feel, lest, after all, I should dwell 
 for ever in Hell Fire ! 
 
 Oh! God, who is sufficient for these things? Oh! 
 cast me not away from thy presence-— take not 
 thy Holy Spirit from me. Oh ! God be merciful 
 to me a guilty and a wretched sinner. B.t it sq 
 — for Christ's sake, Amen. 
 
 Monday Evening, May 27, 1811. 
 
260 LIFE OF SPENCER^ tartiv, 
 
 But this was not the usual tone of his mind. Few- 
 there are so highly favoured but that, sometimes, 
 they are called to walk in darkness. The same 
 apostle who declares at one period, I knoro whom I 
 have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to 
 keep what I have committed unto him until that day; 
 at another cries, O wretched man that I am, fyc. ; 
 and again, Lest , after having preached unto others, 
 I myself should be a cast-awau. This document is 
 a commentary on a passage in one of Spencer's 
 letters: — " Be assured that 1, as well as yourself, 
 have walked in darkness, and complained that there 
 was no light. Fluctuations in experience are, I am 
 sure, my lot, &c."* He was 
 
 Humble, For abundant evidence of the truth of 
 this assertion I need only appeal to his correspon- 
 dence, his conversation, and his conduct; they each 
 demonstrate that he walked humbly with his God, 
 Indeed so prominent a feature in his character was 
 humility, that his ministry derived from this prolific 
 source a considerable portion of its excellence. 
 " For," as a friend observed, " his deep humility 
 and self-debasement leading- him wholly to distrust 
 himself, his affections ascended continually to the 
 Saviour, and brought down that abundant supply of 
 spirituality which animated both his sermons and 
 his life." 
 
 A minister one day unguardedly said to him, 
 " Mr. Spencer, I have been reading of your fame/* 
 " My fame, Sir." " Yes; I have been reading in 
 one of the public prints, that the Rev. Thomas 
 Spencer has been preaching several eloquent and 
 impressive sermons at Brighton ; and if you will call 
 at my house I will shew you the newspaper." Spen- 
 cer declined going-; and his remarks afterwards 
 were worthy of himself. 
 
 • Pa^e 138. 
 
chap. I. LIFE OF SPENCER. 261 
 
 " I am strongly pressed to visit Mr. ■■ ■ ■ ■ ," said 
 he; " I cannot; his circumstances are so much 
 above mine, that it would be dangerous for me. If 
 I get a habit of visiting the rich, I shall neglect the 
 poor, and my expectation of usefulness lies among 
 them." 
 
 His humility led him early to solicit, and highly 
 to value, the fidelity of friendship. As he had a 
 deep and intimate acquaintance with his own heart, 
 he knew and deplored its corruptions, and turned 
 with contempt from those professed and dangerous 
 friendships, which only tend to feed the flame he 
 was anxious to stifle and subdue. No friend of his 
 was ever more faithful to him than Mr. Bickham, 
 and few persons were more highly esteemed by him. 
 Speaking of that gentleman to his friend Mr. Had- 
 don, when he went to Liverpool, he said, " Call 
 from time to time on Mr. B. and let me know how 
 himself and family are. It will give me great plea- 
 sure if you will — I shall consider it as done by 
 myself; I owe him particular respect, and I wish 
 to shew it." 
 
 There was one instance in which his late attend- 
 ance at a place of worship, where he was to preach, 
 was unhandsomely attributed to pride. " He takes 
 liberties," said they, " because he is popular." Let 
 not his memory suffer by such an imputation. It is 
 in my power to roll away from the character of our 
 departed friend this cloud. It was his attention to 
 the duties of the closet, and not his pride, which 
 caused his late attendance that day. It has been 
 already observed, that he always went from his 
 closet to the pulpit. On that day he allowed him- 
 self the proper time for retirement, intending to 
 take aooach from the city, where he dined, to Wal- 
 worth, where he was to preach. But a sudden fall 
 of snow engaged every conveyance, and he was 
 obliged to walk: the distance was considerable, and 
 
262 LIFE OF SPENCER. part'w. 
 
 the consequence was, he was too late. When an 
 error in the conduct of a minister is committed, 
 reasons are easily assigned, and unhappily those the 
 most uncharitable come the readiest to hand ; and 
 few have sufficient generosity or justice to enquire 
 whether that which they have chosen is correct 
 or not.* 
 
 The following extract of a letter, dated July 3, 
 1810, shall close this part of our review of Spencer's 
 character. It was addressed to one who feared that 
 his popularity might have an unhappy influence 
 upon his mind : 
 
 *' A thousand thanks for the solicitude you ex- 
 press for my safety in the midst of the snares and 
 dangers which appear to you to surround me ; never 
 may I be so left as to lose the dignity of the Chris- 
 tian, much more of the Ministerial character, 
 by being pleased with so empty a nothing as popu- 
 lar applause ; I cannot but recollect that this is a 
 distinction not unfrequently bestowed upon the most 
 unworthy of men, and it is so little calculated to 
 afford any thing like happiness or peace of mind, 
 that I hope I shall always be taught to esteem it 
 a mere puff of noisy breath ; that so being elevated 
 above it, I may seek that reward alone, which a 
 sense of the SiMiLE of God will ever bestow. Oh! 
 
 • It may be said that this incident is too trifling to be recorded. 
 1 do not think so. Nothing is unimportant which illustrates cha- 
 racter ; and it is in these little things, for the most part, that the 
 character may be ascertained. Besides, the memory of the dead is 
 sacred; and I should not discharge the duties which I have taken 
 upon myself in the compilation of this volume, to the satisfaction of 
 my own mind, were I to suffer any spot or cloud to remain upon the 
 lovely character of Spencer which I am able to remove. If those 
 who censured him at that time had known his feelings, their censure 
 would have been exchanged for pity. He was very much distressed. 
 " But," said he to his friend, who accompanied him; " what I have 
 now to do is, to conquer my feelings, or I shall be unhinged and 
 uncomfortable in prayer, and then I shall expect no good from the 
 sermon." 
 
chap. I. LIFE OF SPENCER. 363 
 
 my friend, may those pleasures be mine which arise 
 from the testimony of my conscience, that I am 
 seeking to please that Divine Being-, ' whose frown 
 can disappoint the proudest hopes, whose approba- 
 tion prosper even mine.' " 
 
 As a Minister. 
 We shall contemplate Mr. Spencer as a Preacher 
 of the Gospel and the Pastor of a Church. 
 Though for the most part these two offices are com- 
 bined, yet those who understand their nature, and 
 the duties they involve, must be conscious of the 
 distinction which this division implies. Many a man 
 is an admirable preacher, who is but ill qualified for 
 the retired and constant duties of the pastoral office; 
 and many a man is exemplary as a pastor, who lias 
 little except his piety, which indeed is much, to 
 recommend him as a preacher. As Spencer united 
 in his own person the two offices, so did he eminently 
 possess the qualifications of both. 
 
 As a Preacher his discourses were truly evan- 
 gelical: this was the cast of all his sermons. He 
 never preached to display himself, — but always to 
 exalt the Saviour: this was his constant aim, and to 
 accomplish it, he dwelt much upon the beauties of 
 his character — the charms of his person — the fulness 
 of his atonement — the perfection of his righteous- 
 ness* He perpetually dwelt upon his willingness 
 and ability to save ; and in order to demonstrate the 
 necessity and the value of his great salvation, he 
 seldom failed to resort to the fallen, polluted, guilty, 
 helpless state of man. He consulted not the incli- 
 nations, the passions, or the prejudices of his hearers, 
 but preached simply, faithfully, and affectionately, 
 the most humiliating, as well as the most animating 
 doctrines of the Gospel. Whatever text he struck, 
 living waters seemed immediately to flow. What- 
 ever was the subject, or the occasion — his holy and 
 
264 LIFE OF SPENCER, partly. 
 
 ardent mind, ever panting for the salvation of im- 
 mortal souls connected with it truths and consider- 
 ations, the most solemn and important. His appli- 
 cations were forcible and impressive. There he 
 wrestled with the people, with a fervour, resembling 
 that with which, in prayer, he wrestled with his 
 God. He seemed to exhaust every argument which 
 might be brought to bear upon bis great object, 
 and to these he often added appeals and entreaties, 
 the most tender and affecting. Then he seemed to 
 lose sight of every consideration, but his own re- 
 sponsibility, and his people's good— and as though 
 the congregation before him were the only persons 
 remaining to be saved, and as though every time of 
 preaching was the only opportunity afforded him of 
 using the means for their salvation, he besought 
 them, as an ambassador for Christ, to be reconciled 
 to God. 
 
 The general cast of his preaching may be gathered 
 from his texts, which are scattered up and down in 
 the preceding pages. By his confession ef faith it 
 will be seen, that his sentiments were most decidedly 
 what have obtained, in the Christian world, the 
 epithet, Cttlvinistic — exactly in conformity with the 
 shorter catechism of the assembly of divines. To 
 these doctrines he was most warmly attached, and as 
 they were the subjects »f his firm belief, so were 
 they the constant topics of his discourse, both in 
 public and in private. Valuing these doctrines so 
 highly, and cherishing so deep a sense of their im- 
 portance, we cannot be surprised that he should fee! 
 and express regret, when he saw them, in the ser- 
 mons of ministers, neglected and cast into the shade. 
 Perhaps, in his mode of expression, on such occa- 
 sions, he was sometimes incautious.* Admitting 
 
 * Christians, and especially Christian ministers, should be sparing 
 in the use of those broad and unqualified assertions respecting their 
 
«hap. L LIFE OF SPENCER. 2G5 
 
 that it was so, we cannot but admire the principle. 
 Where doctrines assume, in the view of the indivi- 
 dual, an importance, similar to that which we are 
 accustomed to attach to those grand principles which 
 formed the basis of Mr. Spencer's ministry, we can- 
 not be surprised if he expresses warmly his regret, 
 when he beholds them undervalued or abandoned. 
 
 His discourses were judicious — he particularly 
 excelled in the adaptation of his subjects, and the 
 selection of his texts, to particular circumstances 
 and occasions. His sermons were never flippant, 
 nor bombastic — 'but always solid and simple — full of 
 sound divinity, conveyed in language, which, by its 
 copiousness,— its elegance, — its fluency, — astonish- 
 ed every auditor. His skill in meeting the several 
 cases of his hearers has been already noticed. Every 
 age and every rank received their portion from his 
 public instructions : the aged were astonished at his 
 deep experience ; the young were charmed with his 
 affectionate manner; and few, very few, were the 
 instances in which the hearers did not depart, each 
 affirming, that there was something in the sermon 
 that exactly suited thera.f 
 
 brethren in the ministry, which are so easily made, yet so difficult to 
 jprove, and so injurious in their influence. It is easy to say, he does 
 -not preach the Gospel, of a minister — who loves it, and propagates it 
 with as much ardour as the censurer himself . He may not preach the 
 Gospel with the same phrases — in precisely the same style of language. 
 Perhaps the censurer loves to dwell entirely on the promises of the 
 Gospel — on the sovereignty and freedom of divine grace — on salva- 
 tioa as the unmerited gift of God by faith and not by works : — all 
 this, the man he eensures believes and preaches too ; but then with 
 the promises of the Gospel, he blends the threatenings, — and with 
 the assurance that salvation is ©f grace and by faith — the importance 
 of' obedience, and a holy life as the evidence of saving faith. 
 
 f A passage in a discourse recently published by the Rev. Robert 
 Hall, admirably describes this quality of Mr. Spencer's preaching. 
 m Without descending to such a minute specification of circumstan- 
 ces, as shall make our addresses personal, they ought unquestionably 
 to be characteristic; that the conscience of the audience may feel the 
 N 
 
I 
 
 266 LIFE OF SrKNCER. VAtitttx 
 
 As a preacher, Mr. Spencer was remarkable for 
 Animation; indeed this was so strongly charac- 
 teristic of him, that almost every other feature might 
 have been resolved into this. Dr. Styles, than 
 whom no man is better able to form and express an 
 opinion of his worth, most correctly observes, " If 
 I were to sum up Mr. Spencers character in one 
 word, comprehending in it only what is excellent 
 and ennobling to human nature, I should say it was 
 ANIMATION. His intellect was feeling, and his 
 feeling- was intellect. His thoughts breathed, and 
 his words glowed. He said nothing tamely, he did 
 nothing with half a heart." With him, the anima- 
 tion of the pulpit was enkindled by the devotion of 
 the closet. His communion with God was deep and 
 habitual, and this rendered him most feelingly alive 
 to the great truths which he delivered — whilst the 
 ardent desire which he cherished for the salvation of 
 sinners supplied, with constant fuel, the flame of his 
 zeal. In. the pulpit, he appeared to be abstracted 
 from every consideration, but those immediately 
 connected with, his subject, and Ins office. It was 
 this holy fervour, perhaps, which constituted the 
 ^Teat charm of his ministry. The simplest observa- 
 tions from his lips were invested, by his manner of 
 expressing them, with an importance which demand- 
 
 band of the preacher searching it, and every individual know where 
 to class himself. The preacher who aims at doing good will endea- 
 vour, above all things, to iasulate his hearers, to place each of them 
 apart, and render it impossible for him to escape by losing himself in 
 the crowd. At the day of judgment, the attention excited by the sur- 
 rounding scene, the strange aspect of nature, the dissolution of the 
 elements, and the last trump, will have no other effect than to cause 
 the reflections of the sinner to return with a more overwhelming tide 
 on bis character, his sentence, his unchanging destiny ; and, amid 
 the innumerable millions who surround him, he will mourn apart. 
 It Is thus thf Christian minister should endeavour to prepare the tri- 
 iiuna! of conscience, and turn the eyes of every one of his heareTS on 
 feimself." Discourse delivered to <the Itev. James Robertson at his 
 erdination, by Robert Hall, A >»/• 
 
chap. i. LIFE OF S FENCER. 267 
 
 ?d attention. The interest which he felt himself in 
 the topics he discussed, he communicated to his 
 hearers ; and it was impossible not in some degree 
 to feel, when every one saw how intent he was upon 
 promoting their eternal welfare. 
 
 " I remember," says a friend, " that one evening 
 when we reached Hoxton, in good time for him, but 
 too late for me, as he was to preach, the chapel was 
 thronged, and I stood in the passage through which 
 he passed to the pulpit. His delicate frame was too 
 weak to sustain the animation of his mighty spirit. 
 His half-closed mouth, fixed eye, flushed cheek, and 
 panting breast, pained me to the heart as he passed 
 me, and loudly spoke my awful responsibility, pos- 
 sessed of such a friend, and such a ministry. He 
 afterwards told me that he generally was agitated in 
 h\s way to the pulpit, but that when he reached it 
 he seemed to feel himself at home. I once asked a 
 medical friend, who heard him at Hoxton with me, 
 
 * how he heard?' ' Very uncomfortably.' 'Why?' 
 
 * Because I saw that his preaching is at a physical 
 expcnce to himself, beyond what you have any idea 
 of. Every part of the service, except his repetition 
 of the Lord's prayer, was at an expence which his 
 frame is incapable of supporting,'" 
 
 As a preacher, he was 
 
 Solemn. He never degraded the awful dignity of 
 liis station, and his office, by buffoonery and^e.tfs, — 
 he was popular — but he never courted popularity 
 by the practice of any thing that was timeserving t 
 crafty, or mean. As an eminent judge once ob- 
 served, " he did not despise popularity, but he 
 loved— not the popularity which he must follow — 
 but the popularity that followed him." Who, but 
 must behold with mingled sorrow and contempt, the 
 low and disgusting arts, to which some men, who 
 style themselves preachers of the Gospel, will con- 
 descend, in order to gain the temporary admiration 
 
268 LIFE OF SPENCER, part jv, 
 
 of the vulgar. There are some indeed, whose minds 
 are unhappily so constructed, that they find it im- 
 possible to forego their humour, even in the pulpit. 
 In such characters, while we deplore the failing, we 
 esteem the men, and revere their excellencies. But 
 where there is no talent to command respect — no 
 superior worth to induce the exercise of forbear- 
 ance and love, but mere tricks are resorted to, for 
 the sake of obtaining a name, every feeling is ab- 
 sorbed in that of mingled pity and disgust. 
 
 Mr. Spencer's preaching had a holy tendency. — - 
 He loved the Gospel, and gave to its leading truths 
 the prominency in his discourses, but on them, as on 
 a firm foundation, he built a superstructure of the 
 purest morality. Whilst he directed his hearers to 
 a higher source than obedience to the commands of 
 the law, for acceptance with God, he never failed 
 to enforce its precepts upon the practice of Chris- 
 tians, as the rule of their life. Upon the absolute 
 necessity of holiness, both of heart and conduct, he 
 constantly dwelt, and from every topic which he 
 discussed, he deduced those practical lessons, which 
 4t naturally supplied. 
 
 But, although as a preacher he obtained almost 
 unexampled popularity, he was yet remarkably 
 
 Modest, and unassuming. No man would better 
 take a hint, or receive reproof with greater humility 
 and even thankfulness ; but no man was more reluc- 
 tant to give either, though he might have presumed 
 much upon the importance which attended his sta- 
 tion, and have dealt out his censure with a liberal 
 hand. 
 
 " I>oyou think," observed a friend to him, " the 
 expression, * our realm,' which you use in prayer, 
 quite right?" " Is it not?" •• It may be so — 
 but I never knew any individual except George 
 III. and Thomas Spencer, use it, the one in his 
 proclamations, the other in his prayers." €on- 
 
•hap. i. LIFE OF SPENCER. 2G9 
 
 stantly as he used the phrase before — it never was 
 known to escape him afterwards. 
 
 " Mr. S." said a gentleman, belonging to a certain 
 congregation, to whom he was about to preach, 
 " the people come in very late, in general, I wish 
 you would reprove them for it this morning." — " Oh, 
 no, sir," he replied, " it would ill become a visitor 
 and a youth like me, it ought to be a stated or an 
 aged minister." 
 
 He shrunk from the public notice to which he 
 was exposed, and usually walked the street in great 
 haste, and with downcast eyes, anxious to escape 
 the gaze of men. 
 
 In the pulpit Mr. Spencer was an interesting 
 figure. His countenance had the fine bloom of 
 youth. His voice was full toned and musical. His 
 
 action was graceful and appivopj-lcUo. IIv, 0^1110- 
 
 times leaned over the pulpit, as if conversing with 
 the people, with the greatest earnestness, and anxious 
 to be so plain and explicit as that none should mis- 
 understand. At others, he stood with manly dig- 
 nity, displaying with spontaneous ease, all the cha- 
 racteristics of genuine eloquence. 
 
 That as a preacher he was faultless, no one will 
 be disposed to assert ; but his faults were those of 
 youth, which time and experience would have cer- 
 tainly corrected. He was sometimes too rapid — 
 his zeal, like an impetuous torrent, bore him along, 
 and would brook no check, — by which his voice was 
 often strained, and the usual placidity and dignity 
 of his style somewhat interrupted. I conclude this 
 sketch of his character as a preacher, by a note in- 
 serted at the close of Mr. Hall's discourse, above, 
 referred to : 
 
 " The sensation excited by the sudden removal 
 of that extraordinary young man, [Mr. Spencer,] 
 accompanied with such affecting circumstances, lias, 
 not subsided, nor abated^ as we are informed, muck 
 
270 LIFE OF SPENCER. part iu 
 
 of its force. The event which has drawn so great a 
 degree of attention, has been well improved in se- 
 veral excellent discourses on the occasion. The 
 unequalled admiration he excited while living, and 
 the deep and universal concern expressed at his 
 death, demonstrate him to have been no ordinary 
 character; but one of those rare specimens of hu- 
 man nature, which the great Author of it produces 
 at distant intervals, and exhibits for a moment, while 
 he is hastening to make them up amongst his jewels. 
 The high hopes entertained of this admirable youth, 
 and the shock approaching to consternation, occa- 
 sioned by his death, will probably remind the clas- 
 sical reader of the inimitable lines of Virgil on 
 Marcelius: 
 
 O t^ate. ^entem Inetrnn ne qucere tuorum. 
 » w ra muumi terns nunc latuoin raia, uc^uc ultra 
 Esse sinent 
 
 The writer of this deeply regrets his never having 
 had an opportunity of witnessing his extraordinary 
 powers ; but from all he has heard from the best 
 judges, he can entertain no doubt, that his talents in 
 the pulpit were unrivalled, and that, had his life been 
 spared, he would, in all probability, have carried the 
 art of preaching, if it may be so styled, to a greater 
 perfection than it ever attained, at least, in this king- 
 dom. His eloquence appears to have been of the 
 purest stamp, elfective, not ostentatious, consisting 
 less in the striking preponderance of any one quality, 
 requisite to form a public speaker, than in an ex- 
 quisite combination of them all ; whence resulted 
 an extraordinary power of impression, which was 
 greatly aided by a natural and majestic elocution. 
 To these eminent endowments, he added, from the 
 unanimous testimony of those who knew him best, a 
 humility and modesty, which, while they concealed a 
 great part of his excellencies from himself, rendered 
 them the more engaging and attractive. When we 
 
chap i. LIFE OP SPENCER. 271 
 
 reflect on these circumstances, we need the less 
 wonder at the passionate concern excited by his 
 death. For it may truly be said of him, as of St. 
 Stephen, that devout men made great lamentation 
 over him. May the impression produced by the 
 event never be effaced; and, above all, may it have 
 the effect of engaging such as are embarked in the 
 Christian ministry, to zcork while it is called to- 
 day? 
 
 In directing my readers to a contemplation of Mr. 
 Spencers character -as 
 
 A Pastor, I am influenced more, by a desire to 
 render this general view of our departed friend com- 
 plete and to do ample justice to his memory, than by 
 the prospect of any very considerable practical re- 
 sult. There are so many examples of pastoral dili- 
 gence, furnished by the recorded lives of men vene- 
 rable for their age, and valuable for their experience, 
 that I cannot anticipate much from the pattern of a 
 youth, just entered on his labours. But such as he 
 was I am bound to represent him. 
 
 In his visits to the sick he was constant and tender. 
 
 His enlargement in prayer, at the bedside of the 
 diseased and dying, was truly astonishing. The 
 depth of his experience and ability in speaking to 
 the cases of the afflicted, appeared mysterious. But 
 it was soon explained by a holy providence. — For 
 whilst his friends saw him young and healthy, just 
 entering into the world, He who seeth not as man 
 seeth, beheld in him the Christian of many years 
 standing, just taking wing for glory. This consi- 
 deration may tend to check invidious comparisons, 
 — for it is certainly unjust to compare one, in whom 
 God has cut short his work, in righteousness, with 
 those who, though older in years, are younger in 
 grace, and have perhaps a long and honourable 
 course before them. 
 
272 LIFE ©F SPENCER. ™" **> 
 
 His intercourse zcith his people was cheerful, spi- 
 ritual, and instructive. 
 
 He was no gossip. It was wished, by some, that* 
 fee had been more frequent in his visits. But it is 
 difficult so to equalize the attention, in a large body 
 «f people, as to satisfy the demands of all, and by 
 apparent neglect give offence to none. Where he 
 did visit, he always left a happy impression of his- 
 piety, his wisdom, and his amiable disposition. He 
 abhorred the idle tales of the day, — he was no friend 
 to scandal. He endeavoured always to direct the 
 conversation into a useful and pleasing channel. 
 He was cheerful, without levity, and serious with- 
 out affectation. There w r as nothing formal or stu- 
 died in his manners. In him, every thing was 
 natural, and through all the departments of his cha- 
 racter, there was a harmony of feature — a unity of 
 principle, which every one observed and admired. 
 
 In all the duties of the pastoral office, he was well 
 informed,, affectionate, and constant. 
 
 He knew what belonged to his office — and never 
 failed to practice what he knew. He made full 
 proof of his ministry. He was a scribe well in- 
 structed in the mysteries of the kingdom. A work- 
 man that needed not to be ashamed, rightly dividing 
 the word of truth — giving a portion to each, in due 
 season — sparing the irregularities or prejudices of 
 none — but seeking with ardent affection the good of 
 all — he commended himself to every man's conscience 
 in the sight of God. Early he girded on the armour 
 — and soon became a leader in the armies of the 
 Prince of Peace. He has fought a good fight, he 
 has finished his course — and now, he enjoys the 
 crown. 
 
CHAP. II. 
 
 Reflections. 
 
 I AM unwilling; further to detain the attention of 
 the reader to a volume, which, but for its interesting- 
 subject, would have wearied his patience long ago, 
 and which has imperceptibly swollen to a bulk, far 
 greater than that which the writer, originally, in- 
 tended, by any additional reflections. For the pre- 
 ceding pages abound with observations of a practi- 
 cal nature, as the narrative suggested them — and 
 almost every topic of improvement which might 
 now be introduced has been fully anticipated and 
 forcibly expressed by the interesting publications 
 which appeared immediately upon the death of 
 Spencer. And yet, were I to dismiss the volume, 
 without any effort at a final improvement of the 
 subject, I might be charged with neglecting the 
 great object of biography — utility ; and the book 
 might be considered as deficient in the most impor* 
 tant point. 
 
 In Spencer we see, — 
 
 First, That obscurity of birth or station presents, 
 no insurmountable barrier to the progress of real 
 excellence. 
 
 The histories of past and present times furnish un- 
 numbered illustrations of this remark. Many who 
 have lived to enlighten and to bless the world — who 
 have obtained rank, and fortune, and renown, were 
 born in obscurity, and passed their earliest years in 
 the oblivion of humble life. Let sucb, then, as feel 
 the pressure of present circumstances, yet pant for 
 n 2 
 
274 LIFE OF SPENCER. PABT lv - 
 
 scenes of honourable exertion, and extensive useful- 
 ness, ponder the life of Spencer and be encouraged. 
 If God designs to employ them for the public good, 
 he will, by an unexpected train of events, in his pro- 
 vidence call them forth ; if not, let them neither rush 
 unbidden from their sphere, nor occupy their station 
 in sullen discontent. If a wider field be not allowed 
 them, let them cultivate with cheerfulness the little 
 spot to which they are confined. The most retired 
 hamlet affords abundant opportunities of doing 
 good ; and many a man to whom it is denied to en- 
 lighten crowded cities and populous towns, may 7 be 
 a star of the first magnitude in the village where he 
 dwells. 
 
 Secondly, We see in Spencer the commanding in- 
 fiuence of genuine and fervent piety. This was the 
 secret spring of all his energy — the fuel of his ani- 
 mation — the source of his popularity^ That his mind 
 was well furnished with solid truths — that his man- 
 ner was engaging — that his form was graceful — that 
 his countenance was lovely — that his language was 
 elegant — that his voice was fine — is admitted ; but 
 it was his ardent piety which gave to each of these a 
 charm, and awoke in the breasts of his auditors- a 
 feeling of reverence and solemnity, which the simple 
 exhibition of these beauties could never have pro- 
 duced. The graces of genuine eloquence, and the 
 stores of a cultivated mind, are precious ; but with- 
 out piety, they are as 'sounding brass and a tinkling 
 cymbal.' They may delight the ear, but never will 
 impress the heart. And it is not, usually, the labours 
 of the most polished and enlightened of his ministers, 
 that Jehovah deigns especially to bless ; but rather 
 the unwearied exertions of those, whom the love of 
 Christ and of immortal souls has rendered zealous 
 in the sacred cause. 
 
 Thirdlv, We see in the labours of Spencer, an ad- 
 
chap.ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 275 
 
 mirable example of diligence, and in the success that 
 crowned them, a strong encouragement to exertion. 
 
 So short was the period of his stated ministry, that 
 we can only measure it by months: it had not reached 
 to years. And yet few, perhaps, whose term of la- 
 bour was so short as his, were ever honoured with 
 more success ; whilst many who have seen the num- 
 ber of his months often repeated in years of anxious 
 labour, have not been favoured with so much. If 
 all prove faithful unto death, whom he enlisted, 
 whilst on earth, beneath the banners of the cross, he 
 will head a goodly company, when the hosts of the 
 redeemed shall be assembled at the judgment day. 
 Who that knew and loved him, but must anticipate 
 the joy with which he then shall say, ' here am I, 
 Father, and the children whom thou hast given me,' 
 
 Let Uife example of his exertions and success sti- 
 mulate, quicken, and encourage ours. We work 
 for the same Master, and are engaged in the same 
 cause. And, to the student, or the youthful preacher 
 who may honour these pages with his regard, I will 
 add, your term may be as short — if it be not as sue- 
 cessful, let it be as diligent. The diligence is ours, 
 — the success is God's : he will not demand at our 
 hands what is not ours to secure — he will give his 
 rewards of grace to the faithful servant, whether his 
 success be proportioned to his exertions or not; 
 and we are ' a sweet savour unto him in them that 
 are saved, and also in them that perish.' 
 
 Fourthly, From the early and sudden removal of 
 Spencer, let churches learn to prize the labours of 
 holy and devoted men, while they enjoy them. Alas! 
 too many only learn the value of their privileges by 
 their removal. They neglected or lightly esteemed, 
 whilst living, the minister, upon whose memory they 
 heap eulogies and honours when departed ; and I 
 believe, that some have even bedewed the ashes of 
 their pastors with affected tears, who accelerated 
 
270 LIFE OP SPENCER. P ^ RT * 
 
 and embittered their passage to the grave, by un- 
 kindness and neglect ! Not so the people whom 
 the death of Spencer suddenly bereaved. The tears 
 with which they embalmed his memory, were suita- 
 ble to the respect they bore his person — the love they 
 cherished for his friendship — and the sense they en- 
 tertained of his transcendant worth.* Othat every 
 minister living, were as much beloved! — dying, were 
 as unaffectedly deplored ! 
 
 Fifthly, In Spencer zee see the excellence of real 
 religion — bow it sweetens labour — sooths in afflic- 
 tion — supports in trial — and animates the soul in 
 scenes of disappointment, and hours of care* To 
 few are allotted severer labours — to few, so young, 
 are measured heavier trials than those which he en- 
 dured. And yet few, upon the whole, have possessed 
 a greater share of happiness. There were intervals 
 of sorrow, and clouds would sometimes obscure the 
 brightness of his sun ; but for the most part his hope 
 was lively, and his prospect fair. He enjoyed re- 
 ligion upon earth — he anticipated the consummation 
 of its bliss in heaven: and now he has entered into 
 the joy of his Lord. His life was piety, and his end 
 was peace. 
 
 * By some liberal expositors of God's providence, the death of 
 Spencer has been pronounced a judgment on the people, for what they 
 fcave termed, "their idolatrous attachment" to him. Alas! the 
 idolizing of its ministers is, surely, not the crying sin of the church 
 at the present day ! But was there any thing in the conduct of the 
 people over whom Spencer presided, so contrary to the mind of God 
 as to excite thus strongly his displeasure, in loving a man who was 
 beloved wherever he was known — and revering an office which Christ 
 himself has invested with so much dignity ? Let such bold infringers 
 of the prerogative of Gcd, who presume to assign reasons for his con- 
 duct, when he has not deigned to give any, read — * Know them that 
 labour amongst you, and are over you in the Lord, and admonish you ; 
 and esteem them very highly in love for their work's sake, and be at 
 peace among yourselves." Lerthem take the solemn admonition this 
 passage, gives ; and perhaps their own ministers will have no occasion 
 t« regret that tjiey have done so. 
 
CH.^p.ii. LIFE OF SPENCER. 277 
 
 Sixthly, In the sudden removal of Spencer Zi'e mark 
 the mysterious conduct of JehovaKs providence. 
 
 At first sight the event might stagger the strong- 
 est faith, for he was snatched away at a period when 
 his life seemed of the utmost moment to the people 
 over whom he presided, and the circle in which he 
 moved. Scarcely had his talents reached their ma- 
 turity ; his character was even then unfolding ; from 
 the promise of his youth, his friends dwelt with rap- 
 ture on the anticipations of his manhood, and every 
 day added some strokes of reality to the picture 
 which they drew,— when suddenly, in the bloom of 
 his youth — at the commencement of his course, — 
 just entered on his labours — he is arrested by the 
 arm of death, and conducted to the silent grave. 
 But was his death untimely? No, — he had seen a 
 good old age in usefulness, though not in years : 
 " that life is long that answers life's great end." 
 His end was fully answered, and he was gathered 
 to the grave in peace. Was his death severe? No 
 — to him it was tranquil, and serene ; he crossed the 
 river Jordan, singing as he went, and in an unex- 
 pected moment, found himself safely landed on the 
 shores of immortality. No raging billows awoke 
 his fears — no agonies disturbed his countenance — 
 death respected his loveliness, and preserved the 
 beauty of the form, when the spirit that animated it 
 was gone. But whilst for him his death was peace, 
 was there ought oi' mercy in it to his friends? Yes 
 — if they review and act upon the lessons it con- 
 veys, there was. To survivors it declares, that 
 excellence and beauty must fade and die — let them 
 seek an interest in him, in whom, whosoever liveth 
 and believeth, shall not die eternally. To the church 
 it will endear the assurance of His care, who is in- 
 dependent of instruments, and the conqueror of 
 death. To the young it is a solemn admonition of 
 the uncertainty of hie — the instability of all terres- 
 
278 LIFE OF SPENCER. p a " Wi 
 
 trial good. To such as attended his ministry — what 
 a powerful application is it of the many sermons 
 they have heard him preach, with such delight — but 
 to so little profit ! How must the event of the suc- 
 ceeding morning" rivet the impression of those solemn 
 words which, on the last Sabbath evening of his life, 
 he addressed to them : " I shall soon meet you at 
 the bar of God ; I shall be there '(" — O that they 
 were wise, that they knew these things — that they 
 would consider their latter end! 
 
 END OF THE MEMOIRS. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 No. 1. 
 
 REGENERA TION, 
 
 A SERMON: 
 % the Rev. THOMAS SPENCER, 
 
 OUR subject this day is REGENERATION, and 
 the passage which I have selected from which to 
 discuss this important doctrine is, James i. 18, 
 
 " Of his own will begat he us with thb 
 word of truth, that we should be a kind 
 of first fruits of his creatures." 
 
 " The works of the Lord," says the Psalmist, "are 
 great, sought out of all them that have pleasure 
 therein." Creation presents us with many subjects 
 for our contemplation — for our astonishment — for 
 our ardent praise ; — and the hand of divine Provi- 
 dence is daily effecting such amazing wonders in the 
 world, that when we contemplate its operations, we 
 may well be astonished at the wisdom and power of 
 .the great Creator. But the power of God, my 
 hearers, is not confined in its display to the tilings 
 
IV. APPENDIX. 
 
 which do appear, for in a silent — in a solemn — in a 
 wondrous way — it works upon the immortal mind, 
 and forms us heirs of heaven. He that sits upon 
 the throne, once said, — and now says, in the dis- 
 pensation of the Gospel, " Behold, I make all things 
 new." The Spirit of God renovates the heart, re- 
 forms the temper, enlightens the understanding, sub- 
 dues the will, and transforms the whole man into the 
 image of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. " Of 
 his own will begat he us." — This, my hearers, is God's 
 chief work — his favourite work — that work which, 
 of all others, most regards our interest and our hap- 
 piness. Our text then sets before us Regenera- 
 tion in three points of view : 
 
 First, In its divine source, " His own will." 
 Secondly, In its appointed instrument, " The 
 
 Thirdly, The happy result, It makes us " a kind 
 of first fruits of his creatures." 
 
 Let us then indulge our meditations upon this all 
 important subject, the doctrine of divine Regenera- 
 tion.— And marvel not, my hearers, that the Saviour 
 says to you #iis day, " Ye must be born again." 
 Contemplate a few moments the work of God upon 
 the soul of man, translating him from the kingdom of 
 darkness into the kingdom of God's dear Son : in- 
 spiring the mind with new dispositions, and prepar- 
 ing it for a new and happier world. 
 
 The subject of Regeneration then is to be consn 
 dered by us, — First, In its divine source, " His own 
 will." And here we are to show that it arises en- 
 tirely and alone from the sovereign pleasure of the 
 Divine will. This is a fact which needs not to be 
 proved, because it is so clearly stated in the text, 
 " Of his own will begat he us." Here you behold 
 the great source of Regeneration, Here it is evi- 
 dent that God is regenerating the soul, and that from 
 time to time he is taking men--one of a family, and 
 
APPENDIX. V. 
 
 two of a city, and bringing them to Zion, that his 
 Holy Spirit is renewing- their depraved natures, and 
 sanctifying- their ungodly dispositions, so putting 
 them among- his children: thus forming them for the 
 church of God, and for heaven. Now in the work 
 of Regeneration you will see that God is the entire 
 agent : and also that when he works upon the human 
 soul, there are no materials for him to work upon. 
 In Regeneration he imparts grace where no grace 
 was before ; he diffuses a divine principle, where, 
 till then, such principles never were known. And 
 here you may perceive its superiority to the work 
 of creation, in that, though God made heaven and 
 earth out of nothing, yet there was nothing to resist 
 his operations — there w r as nothing to prevent — no- 
 thing to oppose : but in the work of Regeneration 
 
 -u...^. V *v> Ull lilttt 11U1UU <jpi^l>9^» It 1U lllv uvua. \*A »^»i^.*» 
 
 all that which opposes the Lord — which hates the 
 work of the Lord. It loves sin, and is determined 
 to follow its own devices and desires. But over all 
 this grace triumphs and prevails; God, the former 
 of all things, says, " I will work, and who shall let 
 it?' The proud heart is now subdued — prejudices 
 are removed — the great mountain sinks to a level, 
 and almighty grace advances its own glory, and 
 displays its own riches. 
 
 Now that Regeneration arises entirely from — 
 springs out of his wise determination — and is accom- 
 plished by his own grace, is evident from three 
 things : The whole chain of salvation. The impos- 
 sibility of its being effected bt/ any thing else. And, 
 By the positive assertions of scripture concerning it. 
 
 1. It is evident from the whole chain of salvation. 
 This chain is frequently presented to your minds in 
 the pages of inspiration. Election is the first link of 
 it; all others are suspended upon it. " He hath 
 blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly 
 places in Christ, according, (mark !) according as 
 
VI. APPENDIX. 
 
 he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the 
 world, that we should be holy and without blame 
 before him in love." Hence you remember that the 
 apostle gives us the chain of salvation in God's 
 words, when he says, " Whom he did foreknow he 
 also did predestinate ; whom he did predestinate, 
 them he also called ; and whom he called, them he 
 also justified; and whom he justified, them he also 
 glorified." Thus all subsequent blessings flow from 
 being " chosen in him from before the foundation 
 of the world." This is the mighty hinge on which 
 turns all our happiness — all our peace — all our joy 
 in life, in death, and for ever. " God has chosen us 
 to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit, and 
 belief of the truth," therefore, " of his own will begat 
 he us." His own mind -resolved it — his own gra- 
 cious purpose determined it — his own hand wrote 
 our names in the Lamb's book. The thoughts of 
 the great Jehovah turned upon our salvation before 
 the foundation of the world. And since this is the 
 case, surely you have every reason to say, " Not 
 unto us, not unto us, but unto thy name be the 
 glory." Why is it that a soul is regenerated — born 
 again? — Why? — " Of his own will begat he us." 
 
 2. It. is evident from the impossibility of its being 
 effected by any thing else but the will of God: there- 
 fore the glory must be given to the divine volition. 
 What is -it in its' nature? It is a new creation. A 
 creation ! — And wdio can create but God only ? 
 What is it? — it is the rendering a man holy who 
 before was defiled and impure : and who can bring 
 a clean thing out of an unclean, but the eternal God? 
 When he says, Let there be light, behold a dark 
 world irradiated by the Sun of righteousness! " Of 
 his own will begat he us." Could the exertions of 
 all your fellow -mortals ever have inspired you with 
 one* devotional sentiment? Tell me, my hearers, 
 would your minds ever have been borne half way t© 
 
APPENDIX. Vil. 
 
 God by your own exertions* or by the united exer- 
 tions of your fellow-creatures, bad it not been for 
 the sovereign pleasure of the divine will ? Unques- 
 tionably not. Look at yourselves in the present 
 state. — You have gone astray from the womb, 
 speaking lies, — your own minds revolted against the 
 government of God — against the grace of God — 
 against the means of salvation by the Lord Jesus 
 Christ i— there was no eye to pity you ; there was no 
 arm to help you : and you would have died in your 
 sins, had it not been the good pleasure of his will 
 to determine that you should be called an heir of 
 God, and a joint heir with Christ: and if it is clear, 
 that in the course of your life nothing but this will 
 of God could have produced it, what shall we more 
 say of the great councils of eternity ? what shall we 
 say of the great King Eternal, but that he still re- 
 mained sufficient and alone. He chose you to sal- 
 vation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief 
 of the truth. 'Twas in his own mind that your re- 
 demption was determined. You cannot discover 
 that there was anv thins: of the kind resolved else- 
 where— any other redemption — or that any thing 
 but the arm of the great Jehovah could have accom- 
 plished it :— then, " Of his own will begat he us." 
 
 3. It is evident from the positive assertions of 
 scripture concerning it. And here I read that the 
 saints are " born not of blood, nor of the will of the 
 flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." The 
 scriptures tell me, that the saints are not " born of 
 blood," that is, they are not regenerated on account 
 of any notions which they may entertain of high pa- 
 rentage, or superiority of character, to the rest of 
 mankind, which might give them to imagine that 
 they merited the divine favour : — -no ; for the Divine 
 Being pours contempt upon all this: " He has 
 chosen the foolish things of the world to confound 
 the wise, and the weak things of the world to con- 
 
viii. APPENDIX. 
 
 found the mighty, and base things of the world, anct 
 things which are despised, hath God chosen ; yea, 
 and things that are not, to bring to nought things 
 that are, that no flesh should glory in his presence." 
 Nor is it " of the will of the flesh," for that in- 
 clines wholly to evil — it is carnal, it is direct enmity 
 to God, therefore the will of the flesh would never 
 be to be saved by Jesus. Nor is it " of the will of 
 man," however bright his reason, however enlarged 
 his capacities, however superior the ideas which he 
 may entertain, he never could elevate himself to the 
 dignity of a new creature. Your own minds would 
 never, had they taken their own course, turned to* 
 ward God, had he suffered you to go on in a natural 
 state, for hundreds and thousands of years ; they 
 would never have had a single idea of following hard 
 ^fter God. The whole must be ascribed to redeem- 
 ing grace : 'tis of God. If men are regenerated, 
 they are born again of the incorruptible seed that 
 livefh and abideth for ever: " of his own will begat 
 he us." " The wind bloweth where it listeth :" — 
 mark the sovereignity of the operations of divine 
 grace ! " the wind bloweth where it listeth ; thou 
 nearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence 
 it cometh, or whither it goeth: so is every one that 
 is born of the Spirit." The divine will is the source 
 of your Regeneration, for that volition selected the 
 persons who should be the objects of Regeneration ; 
 it marked the period of their lives when they should 
 be called ; it chose the instrument that should be 
 employed in their translation from darkness to light; 
 and fixed upon the proportion of terror or of joy 
 which should be used in their call. — " Of his own 
 will begat he us." The Lord did all these things : 
 —the scriptures invariably attribute this work to 
 him who alone has power to operate upon the human 
 mind, and he has determind that all the saints shall 
 be conformed to the image of his Son : — that his is 
 
APPENDIX. ix. 
 
 the kingdom of universal nature, trie fulness of 
 almighty power, and the whole glory of our salvation. 
 Thus have we endeavoured to trace the work of 
 Regeneration to its divine source. I hold it up to 
 your view. 
 
 Secondly, In its appointed instrument, "The word 
 of truth." For the word of truth is the means by 
 which God has wisely ordained that sinners should 
 be regenerated — by the word of truth: and O that 
 this truth were more generally received, more uni* 
 -versally known— that God always regenerates sin- 
 ners by the instrumentality of his Gospel ! for if this 
 truth were properly received, I am persuaded many 
 erroneous notions would be corrected, and much 
 false confidence would be at once swept away. Men 
 are regenerated, mark ! — " by the word of truth." 
 No mention is made of extraordinary visions, of 
 singular dreams, of supernatural influences; — all 
 these things are delusive, and they have led many 
 to perish in their own folly. So you may learn here, 
 that men are not regenerated by baptismal water, 
 for it is " by the word of truth." — Baptismal water 
 never was designed to purify the soul : it does in- 
 deed afford a lively representation of the necessity 
 for renewing grace, and of the way in which the 
 Spirit forms the soul anew: it is a striking emblem 
 of the manner in which God the Holy Spirit, takes 
 the water of life, and purifies the soul. Baptismal 
 water is not the new birth, but sent to be a witness 
 of it. Baptismal water is not the new birth, but 
 it shows its necessity, and points out the manner of 
 its operation. God begets sinners only by the word 
 of truth — then they are called heirs of glory and of 
 God. This is evident from the declarations of scrip- 
 ture. The apostle always speaks of men being 
 called by the Gospel. In addressing the Corinthian 
 converts he says, '" Though you have ten thou- 
 sand instructors in Christ, yet have ye not many 
 
$i APPENDIX. 
 
 fathers; for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you 
 through the Gospel." It is then the record which 
 God has given of his Son that he honours to the 
 regeneration of immortal souls ; and to effect this 
 we remark, that he uses it in different ways. He 
 makes use of the perusal of the word, — of an im- 
 pression of the word, — and of the preaching of the 
 word. 
 
 1. He sometimes uses the perusal of the word, in 
 regenerating the soul. When the favoured indivi- 
 dual turns over the volume of inspiration, light 
 breaks in upon his mind, with kind and quickening 
 rays — his eyes are opened — and he sees wondrous 
 things out of God's law : his attention is arrested-^ 
 he is struck with the force of divine truth — an im- 
 pression i3 made upon his memory which nothing 
 shall ever obliterate — the good seed of the kingdom 
 is cast into the soul — it takes deep root — it brings 
 forth fruit, in some thirty, in some sixty, in others a 
 hundred fold. And that man is exhibited a new 
 creature in Christ Jesus : he is " begotten by the 
 word of truth." 
 
 2. And sometimes we say, God makes use of an 
 impression of the zcord for this purpose. Some one 
 pointed expression in divine revelation- — some idea 
 of its general force, — is impressed upon the mind of 
 the man — the arrow of conviction is fixed in the soul 
 — the Holy Spirit renders this impression abiding", 
 causing it to take deep root ; it follows the man 
 wherever he goes, and, lo ! he is convinced that this 
 is the finger of God : it describes his character ; he 
 feels that it exhibits a suitable Saviour : he is touch* 
 ed with compunction ; — and his conscience is sprink- 
 led with the blood of atonement. 
 
 3. But more generally God makes use of the 
 preaching of the word for this purpose* The Re- 
 deemer now has the dew of his youth, and through 
 the publication of the Gospel, his converts shall 
 
JU»PENDIX. XI. 
 
 become numerous as the drops of morning dew; 
 they shall multiply year alter year continually. God 
 honours the preaching of the Gospel ; hence places 
 of worship are opened for the purpose that souis 
 may be born to God. He has determined to put 
 more honour upon the ministration of righteousness 
 than upon the law; more than he did upon creation. 
 He honours his faithful servants, making use of them 
 to win souls to Christ: while they speak to the ear, 
 he speaks to the heart ; while they dispense the word 
 of truth, he gives it success ; while they draw the 
 bow at a venture, he directs its way to the hearts of 
 sinners ; while they call, ■ Come unto Chirst, all ye 
 that labour and are heavy laden,' he silently and 
 sweetly draws the soul, and supplies it with his 
 richest blessings. • O the depths both of the wisdom 
 of God, and of the power of God! You see here 
 the triumphs of almighty grace, and you ask, * Is 
 any thing too hard for the Lord V Now if you ex- 
 amine this subject a little, you will perceive much of 
 the divine wisdom is discovered here in making use 
 of the word for this purpose, because he has wisely 
 adapted the means to the end. This you will observe 
 if you bear in mind that it reveals our lamentable 
 condition, — it sets before us our only hope, — and, it 
 is rendered effectual by the blessed Spirit. No won- 
 der then that it begets us again to a lively hope* 
 that it raises us from a death in sin, to a new life of 
 righteousness. The divine word, I say, is suited to 
 this, because, 
 
 It reveals our lamentable condition. It tells you 
 that you are poor, and miserable, and blind, and 
 naked; it sounds an alarm in God's holy mountain ; 
 it declaims against every thing that defileth, or is 
 defiled; it testifies against sin, and every sinful 
 work ; it shews you your true character and mise- 
 rable state. The Gospel is a glass, by looking into 
 which you may see your own wretched picture; it 
 o 
 
XU. APPENDIX. 
 
 tells you that all your endeavours are worthless and 
 insufficient to the end you expect to accomplish. 
 The voice of the Gospel cries ; — what does it cry ? 
 " All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness of man as 
 the flower of the field; the grass withereth, the 
 flower fadeth, but the word of our God shall stand 
 for ever." It shews us that our own righteousness 
 is but as the chaff that flies before the wind : it shews 
 you that your own righteousness is but a filthy rag. 
 Thus you see that it bears a faithful testimony to 
 your true character. Nor does it stop here, for if it 
 did, this would not be enough to regenerate the soul. 
 But, 
 
 It sets before us our only hope. It tells us of the 
 mighty God, the everlasting Father; it reveals the 
 Creator of the ends of the earth, who fainteth not, 
 neither is weary. It shews us that he can regene- 
 rate the soul; it tells us of a blessed Spirit, who 
 loves to work upon the depraved mind of man, and 
 elevates its thoughts, its affections, and its desires, to 
 God.- It tells us, that Christ has an ability, a com- 
 mission, an inclination, to take the stony heart out 
 of our flesh, and to give us an heart of flesh : it di- 
 rects us then to the strong for strength ; to the only 
 wise God for intelligence ; to the unerring Creator 
 for a principle of spiritual existence. — " Of his own 
 will begat he us by the word of truth." That word 
 tells us of one that is mighty to save, and gracious 
 to relieve ; and you will see that this is adapted to 
 every purpose of our regeneration. If you remark 
 again that 
 
 It is rendered effectual by the blessed Spirit. For 
 of itself it cannot accomplish the end, however well 
 adapted. The word of truth, though it be read to 
 you, though it be impressed upon the mind, though 
 it be read from the pulpit, will, after all, be a dead 
 letter, unless it be accompanied by the power of the 
 Holy Spirit : hence it is that so many persons re- 
 
APPENDIX. X1U. 
 
 ceive no -benefit from it. You tell them that it is 
 adapted to the end ; but though it be so, it waits for 
 the Spirit to move upon the waters ; it waits for the 
 time when this blessed Agent in our salvation shall 
 bring it home with power to the conscience of the 
 sinner, and then, — then there is no doubt of its suc- 
 cess. When once that blessed Spirit determines 
 to work, no opposition is too strong for him to re- 
 move. When once he resolves to magnify his grace 
 on the behalf of a feeble worm, that grace shall be 
 magnified. O that that Holy Spirit, whose office 
 it is to regenerate the soul, would this day take 
 of the things of Christ, and shew them unto us ! Ah! 
 my hearers, you will not have entered this house of 
 prayer to-day in vain ; it shall be a birth place to 
 your souls, if hereafter you shall have to say, ' I 
 was born there.' O that it may be the case ! May 
 we be born again ! may we be regenerated by the 
 word of truth, then we shall be a kind of first fruits 
 of his creatures. 
 
 Observe, Thirdly, The happy result^ — it makes us 
 " a kind of first fruits of his creatures." 
 
 Here there is an allusion to the first fruits in the 
 land of Canaan, where, you remember, (at least those 
 of you who are in the habit of reading your Bibles 
 will remember,) that the first fruits were to be 
 brought to the priest to be consecrated to God, and 
 that the priest was to wave the sheaf before the Lord 
 to be accepted of him. This beautifully illustrates 
 the effect of regeneration upon the soul. All those 
 who are regenerated are like that sheaf; they are, 
 " a kind of first fruits of his creatures." 
 
 And this furnishes us with three ideas : it shews 
 us the happy result of Regeneration, — It stamps us 
 the property of God — " his creatures." It sherm us 
 the real value of Christians — they are the " first 
 fruits of his creatures." And, It assures us of an 
 
XIV. APPENDIX. 
 
 abundant harvest to Christ~-for after all we are but 
 " the first fruits of his creatures." 
 
 1. Regeneration, we remark, Stamps us the pro- 
 perty of God,— it shews us that we are " his crea- 
 tures." You may say, that we were so before: 
 true; by creation we were: but Regeneration is a 
 nobler work than that. It is true that he " made us, 
 and not we ourselves; we are the people of his 
 hand, and the sheep of his pasture ; but he forms 
 us in a nobler way, and for a higher end, when his 
 Spirit breathes upon us, and says unto us, " Live." 
 Then we become the creatures of God by adoption, 
 grace, and self-dedication ; for the moment we are 
 born again we say, " Lord, I am thy servant- — I am 
 thy servant, the son of thine handmaid : thou hast 
 loosed my bonds." The moment that we are rege- 
 nerated God sets a new mark — a new seal upon us ; 
 we do not belong to the world, for we were redeemed 
 out of it: we do not belong to Satan, for we are 
 snatched out of his hand : we do not belong to our- 
 selves, for then, none of us liveth to himself, and not 
 one of us shall die to himself, but, living or dying, 
 we shall be the Lord's. Lo, then, we are the pro- 
 perty of God ! — By regenerating grace we are made 
 his creatures; for he claims us: he says, I have 
 formed thee, — thou art my servant. 
 
 2. It shezvs us the real value of Christians. They 
 are " the first fruits of his creatures." More valu- 
 able than creation ; — more valuable than the world 
 they inhabit ; — they will endure longer than the world 
 on which they dwell. When all these things shall 
 be consumed ; when the world shall pass away with 
 the lusts thereof; still, — he that doeth the will of God 
 abideth for ever. You may see here the real value 
 of Christians, since God views them with more 
 affection than any other part of mankind. For their 
 sakes days of misery are shortened. Is a man re- 
 generated? — that man is so interested in the favour 
 
APPENDIX. 3LY. 
 
 of God that all things work together for his good. 
 Are you regenerated, my hearers ? Then you are 
 the salt of the earth, and shall confer blessings 
 wherever you go ; — you are " the first fruits of his 
 creatures." — O Israel, thou art holiness to the Lord ! 
 Thou art the first fruits of his increase. Hence the 
 great Jehovah, as the sovereign Lord of universal 
 nature, looks over the worlds that he has made — - 
 inspects the universe — glances at the earth we in- 
 habit — beholds the productions of his infinite skill, 
 and appears to say, — Where shall I fix my heart ? 
 Where place the most of my affection ? Whom, in 
 all this wide world, shall I acknowledge as the dar- 
 ling of my heart — as the heir of all things? — Who? 
 — The regenerate soul ; for " the Lord's portion is 
 his people, and Jacob is the lot of his inheritance." 
 Again, 
 
 3. It secures a large harvest. What are we when 
 regenerated ? Only the " first fruits" of his increase. 
 Every redeemed soul is an addition made to the fa- 
 mily of God: every redeemed soul is another sub- 
 ject won from Satan's empire— another elect vessel 
 joined unto the Lord. Now the Redeemer has the 
 dew of his youth ; but hereafter whole nations shall 
 call him blessed, and all the families of the earth shall 
 be blessed in him. Now one and another is called 
 from time to time and regenerated by the word of 
 truth ; but then a nation shall be born in a day. 
 Every newly regenerated soul is a proof of this re- 
 generating grace, — shews us that Jehovah reigns, 
 and reigns over all : it tells us that he must increase: 
 it shows us that though heaven and earth oppose, 
 he must reign till he hath put all his enemies under 
 his feet. Whenever a new voice is heard saying, I 
 am the Lord's — whenever another individual sub- 
 scribes himself to the name of the God of Jacob, we 
 see a fresh victory won by almighty grace. And 
 now, my hearers, though 3atan does oppose the 
 
xvi. APPENDIX. 
 
 work of Christ — though corruption in the heart op- 
 poses it — though prejudice and ignorance oppose it 
 — yet, behold I say unto you, " Lift up your eyes, 
 and look upon the fields, for they are already white 
 unto the harvest." Do you not behold 5ome of the 
 first fruits? and they tell you, that the Lord of the 
 harvest will soon complete his triumphs, till all na- 
 tions call him blessed. O what a wide sphere of 
 usefulness does this present in the world ! Who 
 knows what trophies of almighty grace may be gained 
 within these walls ! Look around elsewhere, and 
 tell me whether the arm of the Lord may not be ex- 
 alted there also ! Yet all you see is only the " first 
 fruits." But you may depend upon it, that all the 
 Saviour's brethren's sheaves must bow before his, as 
 the sheaves of Joseph's brethren before the sheaf of 
 Joseph. So certain it is that the Saviour will go 
 on conquering and to conquer. Some of you know 
 it, my hearers, because you are standing proofs of it. 
 We Want no other proof of the power of divine grace 
 than this, that God is going on from time to time 
 renewing the souls of the unregenerate. O do not 
 then tremble for the ark of God : suffer not your 
 minds to be overwhelmed with gloomy apprehen- 
 sions, although things may not be exactly as you 
 could wish. Still remember that your Father ma- 
 nages his own house. Tremble not, my hearers, on 
 account of the death of his servants, or at the remo- 
 val of his servants ; — he still secures a large increase 
 of converts. 
 
 We have gone through our discussion of this 
 subject: 'tis time we proceed to apply it. 
 
 And, We may learn from this subject the necessity 
 of progress in religion. Some of my hearers have 
 attained a good hope, through grace, that they are 
 born again. But O, let not the matter rest there ! 
 if you regard your own increasing happiness, let it 
 not be enough to kno\v that you have escaped the- 
 
APPENDIX. XVII. 
 
 pollution of the world through lust; we wish you to 
 go on to perfection : not to count that you have al- 
 ready attained, but to press forward to the mark of 
 the prize of your high calling. Are you born again! 
 —This is well. But shall you always be babes in 
 Christ Ye are born again ; but why not press on 
 to the perfect stature of a man in Christ Jesus, when 
 He increased in wisdom and in favour both with God 
 and man? Why not then " grow in grace, and in 
 the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ?" Again, 
 
 You may learn from this subject the necessity of 
 Christian confidence. God has given them a spark 
 of life ; and what for 1 To extinguish it I No, but 
 to fan it into a flame that shall burn for ever with 
 unextinguishable blaze. God has given them a prin- 
 ciple of spiritual life : this is a proof that he will give 
 them eternal life. If he has " begotten you again to 
 a lively hope," shall that hope be frustrated I God 
 forbid ! Let my brethren in Christ be confident in 
 Christ, and confident of this very thing, " that he 
 which hath begun a good work in us, will perform it 
 to the day of Jesus Christ. " Of his own will begat 
 he us," — of his own will he shall encourage us to 
 persevere, — call us to heaven, — and his own voice 
 shall hereafter raise our dead bodies from the tombs, 
 and Christ shall be magnified by us whether by life 
 or death. 
 
 Finally* You may learn hence the importance of a 
 personal interest in the subject. O sinners ! ye must 
 be born again ! — ye must — ye must be born again, 
 or the blessings of the kingdom of grace will never 
 be enjoyed by you ! Ye must, or the favour of the 
 King of heaven will never be experienced by you ! 
 Ye must, or the enjoyments of a better world will 
 never, never be known by you \ Learn from, this 
 subject, that unless you are regenerated by the word 
 pf truth, where God is you nev,er can com.©,. You 
 
XYUI. APPENDIX. 
 
 may go on in a course of iniquity, and fancy your- 
 selves secure ; but oh J without this passport, this 
 certificate for heaven, if I may be allowed the ex- 
 pression, in regeneration, you cannot enter there ! B& 
 not deceive yourselves. Know ye, that " that which 
 is born of the flesh is flesh." O that ye knew how my 
 soul longs that you may experience that " that which 
 is born of the Spirit is spirit." But ah! there must 
 be a difference in your character. God requires 
 holiness, and if you are yet strangers to if, all this is 
 an inexplicable mystery to you. — Holiness must be 
 practised — holiness must be exemplified by you, or 
 how will you meet a holy God ? 'Twas never in- 
 tended, believe me, my fellow-sinners, that the man 
 who continues in iniquity should enter glory; that 
 he who goes on to the grave in the same condition 
 in which he was born, should enter heaven. God 
 determined that there should be a particular line of 
 distinction formed; — a point in the man's life which 
 should mark the grand difference, and determine 
 him for heaven. O, then ! has he done this for you? 
 Are you born again ? I ask you not what attain- 
 ments you have made in this world ; what know- 
 ledge, wealth, or honour, — what portion of respec- 
 tability you have attained; but I ask you this, Are 
 you born again? You must know, if you believe 
 the Bible, that by nature you are dead in sin: — - 
 have you any proof that you are now alive? Are 
 you living to God, dedicating your life and your all 
 to him; or are you without God, and without hope 
 in the world? And now I would exhort you, if you 
 feel a willingness to be a partaker of the new birth, 
 if you have any anxious desire that Satan may not 
 retain you in his possession, I would exhort you to 
 go and pray that the thoughts of your hearts may be 
 forgiven you. Simon Magus was called upon by 
 an apostle to pray, therefore surely 1 may call upon 
 y©u to do the same. And Oh ! I am happy in the 
 
APPENDIX. XIX. 
 
 thought that he will not despise the prayer of the 
 destitute : he will attend to the voice of their sup- 
 plications. God shall regenerate you, unholy as you 
 are. He shall not stay long, saying, How shall I 
 put thee among the children ( — but his bowels shall 
 yearn over you, — his heart shall feel affection for 
 you, — you shall be joined to his saints, and near to 
 God. 
 
 Here you see then that all our salvation is of 
 grace — that the sovereign pleasure of his will laid 
 the foundation, — and the kind hand of his love must 
 bring forth the top stone, shouting, " Grace, grace 
 to it !" Even so. Amen. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 ADDRESS AT LAYING THE FOUNDATION-STONE 
 OF THE NEW CHAPEL, GREAT GEORGE STREET, 
 LIVERPOOL. 
 
 By the Rev. THOMAS SPENCER, 
 
 " And this stone which I have set for a pillar 
 shall be God's house" — So said the patriarch Jacob 
 on a memorable occasion, and so may we say, as- 
 sembled as we are to lay the foundation-stone of an 
 edifice to God. We have found out a place for the 
 Lord, an habitation for the mighty God of Jacob: 
 beholding this spot of ground on this interesting 
 morning, a thousand delightful sensations pervade 
 our souls, and we are ready to anticipate the pre- 
 sence of the Great Eternal in this place, for "is not 
 this the hill which God hath chosen to dwell in it for 
 ever?" Let us please ourselves with believing, that 
 2o 
 
XX. APPENDIX. 
 
 here holy incense shall ascend to God — that from this 
 place the voice of prayer and praise shall rise tuneful 
 to the court of heaven — that here pious men shall 
 enjoy the sublime happiness of devotion — that here 
 the ungodly and the sinner shall be induced to beg-in 
 their lives anew. How often may many have to say, 
 on the very ground we tread, " How dreadful is this 
 place ! this is none other than the house of God, and 
 the gate of heaven." The Master of worshipping 
 assemblies, Jehovah, by whose call congregations 
 assemble, and -by whose blessing their souls are be- 
 nefited, may here afford his watchful care, his ani- 
 mating smiles : we have every reason to believe he 
 will do it, entreated by the earnest and fervent sup- 
 plications of the men he loves ; himself inclined to 
 bless the gates of Zion, his eyes and his heart shall 
 be here perpetually ; with pleasure will he behold the 
 favoured spot ; and in the liberality of his heart af- 
 ford to his assembled saints an earnest, a foretaste, 
 a lively representation of what those happy spirits 
 know and feel who are ever with the Lord. 
 
 We flatter ourselves, that the erection of an edi- 
 fice like this is the effect of benevolent feeling to 
 mankind, and an ardent love to the Great Lord of 
 all. We unite in endeavouring to maintain the ho- 
 nour of the Saviour's name, and to support the glory 
 of his cross. We feel, and deeply too, the neces- 
 sity of possessing somewhat more than this earth 
 can afford : we regard men as immortals, and we 
 know that there are blessings, without the enjoyment 
 of which those souls will experience continued dis- 
 appointment here, and will languish for ever in ano- 
 ther world. These necessary and holy blessings, 
 the Eternal has chosen to communicate by the in- 
 strumentality of a preached Gospel. We know that 
 Jehovah in making up the number of his elect, works 
 by means ; therefore it is that we endeavour to bring 
 that Gospel, the report of which is indeed a joyful 
 
APPENDIX. XXI. 
 
 sound, to the ears of mankind, praying that the 
 blessed Spirit would send it to their hearts. The 
 erection of this place is a direct attack against — 
 against whom? say my hearers, alarmed at the idea 
 of hostility — against the Church of England ? No ! 
 God forbid ; the very reverse of all this. We cheer- 
 fully take the present opportunity of informing this 
 numerous auditory, that the doctrines which will bo 
 proclaimed on this ground will exactly correspond, 
 will be just the same, with those contained in the doc- 
 trinal articles of the Church of England, which are 
 the bulwarks of its faith, and may be read in most 
 of the Books of Common Prayer. Is it, then, you 
 ask again, an attack against any other congregation 
 or body of professing Christians? My soul revolts 
 and spurns at the idea ; for in the cause of Imma- 
 nuel we wish cordially and constantly to unite with 
 all those who believe in the Lord Jesus, both theirs 
 and ours. But in one word, this is an attack di- 
 rected against the kingdom of Satan and the Prince 
 of Darkness. Its object is the translation of our 
 fellow creatures from his hateful power and domi- 
 nion, and their translation into the family of the 
 blessed household of their Redeemer. With the 
 sword of the Spirit we wish to combat the old ser^ 
 pent the devil. In this large and populous town he 
 has maintained his seat, he has reigned and triumph- 
 ed: we long to see him fall like lightning from 
 heaven ; and hence we preach that glorious Gospel, 
 which opposes his works, which rescues from his 
 power, which gives us to expect a final triumph 
 over him and his followers,. 
 
 Here we expect that the preaching of the cross 
 will be heard— that self-righteousness will in no 
 shape meet with encouragement—that man will be 
 represented as nothing, and Christ as all in all. We 
 erect no altar to an unknown God, but are boldly 
 confessing, that we wish every day to approach thf 
 
XXU. APPENDIX. 
 
 Father of Spirits, through the mediation of God our 
 Saviour, and all this by the gracious aid of the Holy 
 Spirit. And are any of us so hardened, through 
 the deceitfulness of sin, as not to wish that here 
 many souls may be born to God — may be trained 
 up for heaven, — or shall we not, at the last great 
 day, rejoice to see a goodly company of men, who 
 on this spot shall have met with the Saviour Jesus, 
 and commenced an honourable path to heaven. We 
 rejoice in the thought, that the cause is God's, and 
 must prevail, and with pleasure we celebrate the 
 growing empire of our king. His church must flou- 
 rish, because it is purchased with his blood, and 
 preserved by his grace. The names of the several 
 denominations among which it is scattered may be 
 lost and forgotten, but its numbers shall increase, 
 and its honours spread to the end of time. 
 
 The Episcopalian church may totter to the ground ; 
 the Presbyterian church may be known no more ; the 
 Independent church may no longer exist as a sepa- 
 rate body; but the true church, made up of many of 
 all these, and confined to no one of them, shall in- 
 crease yet more and more, and ever be acknowledged 
 the Zion of the Lord, the city of the Holy One of 
 Israel. 
 
 This morning have we cause for gratitude, that 
 amidst the spread of infidelity, and a vain philoso- 
 phy, the work of God is not forgotten; that still his 
 churches rise and flourish; that still souls are born 
 to God, and the saints shout aloud for joy. In the 
 sanctuaries where we worship, we have the solace of 
 our cares, a kind refreshment afforded us in our 
 journey to heaven, and new light and joy bestowed. 
 May all this be known amongst us — be known by 
 posterity when we are cold in death. 
 
 I cannot lose sight of the opportunity which this 
 morning affords me, of assuring this large and mixed 
 assembly, that real religion is a personal thing ; that 
 
appendix; xxii?. 
 
 the Gospel we preach must be believed, and its con- 
 solations enjoyed, or there remains for us no hope 
 of pardon or of peace. My fellow immortals, you 
 have all sinned, and come short of the glory of God: 
 but we exhibit to you a blessed and perfect Re- 
 deemer ! Believe in him, and you shall not be con- 
 founded world without end. And when I meet you 
 in an assembly far larger and more solemn than this, 
 I mean at the judgment day, you shall be accepted 
 of him ; yea, believing in him, you shall then enter a 
 temple, not made with hands, eternal in the heavens; 
 and for ever adore the hand that formed it, the grace 
 that conducted us to it, and the Saviour who fills it 
 with his glory. Amen.* 
 
 On Wednesday, May 27th, 1812, the Chapel was 
 solemnly dedicated to God. On this interesting 
 occasion, the Rev. P. S. Charrier, of Bethesda Cha- 
 pel, Liverpool, commenced the morning service by 
 reading a suitable portion of Scripture, and offering 
 up a solemn and appropriate prayer. The Rev. 
 William Jay, of Bath, delivered a sermon from Psalm 
 exxii. 6, — ' They shall prosper that love thee.' The 
 Rev. Mr. Lister, of Lime-street Chapel, concluded 
 by prayer. In the evening, the service was opened 
 by reading of the Scriptures and prayer, by the Rev. 
 Jos. Fletcher, A. M. of Blackburn. The Rev. Dr. 
 Collyer, of Peckham, preached from 1 John, iv. 8, 
 - — ' God is love. 7 The Rev. Mr. Kershaw, of Edin- 
 burgh, concluded by prayer. 
 
 • This is evidently but a rude outline of what was delivered on 
 that interesting occasion. The effect produced upon the immense 
 auditory which he addressed was remarkably strong, and every effect 
 must have an adequate cause. 
 
No. III. 
 FUNERAL ORATION, 
 
 DELIVERED AT THE GRAVE OF THE 
 
 REV. THOMAS SPENCER, 
 
 BY THE REV. JOSEPH FLETCHER, A M. 
 
 " How dreadful is this place T Never, my af- 
 flicted friends, were we assembled in circumstances 
 of such deeply affecting and overwhelming interest 
 as on the present occasion ! Never did an event 
 transpire so powerfully adapted to excite all the 
 feelings of sympathy and sorrow ! Little did I ima- 
 gine, when that voice, now silent io death, addressed 
 a weeping and attentive audience at the grave of a 
 lately departed minister,* that I should be called so 
 soon to perform a similar service for him, whose pa- 
 thetic eloquence at that time touched all the springs 
 of sensibility within me, and made me feel the luxury 
 of grief! Little did I imagine that the recent so- 
 lemnities of his ordination were but a prelude to the 
 more awful solemnities of this morning, and that I 
 should never again behold him in the sanctuary of 
 God on earth! M Thy way, O God, is in the sea, 
 " and thy path in the great waters, and thy foot- 
 
 " steps are not known !" And is our friendship 
 
 terminated lor ever I No, my fellow sufferers, it is 
 only suspended — the separation is only for a time — 
 the felicities of holy communion with those we loved 
 on earth, shall be renewed in another, and a better 
 world. " Blessed be the God and Father of our 
 
 • The late Rev. Ebenezer White, of Chester, who was interred just 
 three months before the interment of Spencer* See Memoirs, p, 20& 
 
 
APPENDIX. XXV. 
 
 " Lord Jesus Christ, who hath begotten us again to 
 " this lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ 
 " from the dead !" " He shall not return to us," 
 but I trust, through that grace which has fixed his 
 eternal residence in heaven, we, " shall go to him." 
 You behold, my friends, in the melancholy event 
 which has drawn us around this grave, an AFFECT- 
 ING INSTANCE OF THE UNCERTAINTY OF LIFE. 
 " What is your life? it is even as a vapour which 
 " appeareth for a little while, and then vanisheth 
 " away." The voice of this dispensation is like that 
 which cried aloud in the desart — " All flesh is grass, 
 " and the glory of man as the flower of grass." Who 
 would not have wished that this lovely flower might 
 have long bloomed in the garden of the Lord ? But 
 **• Like a flower he came forth — and is cut down, 
 " and v his days passed away as a shadow." If the 
 prayers, and tears, and affection of the church of 
 God could have detained him a little longer amongst 
 us — humanity, benevolence, and religion would have 
 rejoiced ; but " our times are in his hands, and his 
 " are all our ways." Mutability is inscribed on our 
 earthly possessions, that we may " seek the things 
 " which are above, where Jesus sitteth at the right 
 " hand of God." If the relations and enjoyments of 
 time were so fixed and certain that we could ration- 
 ally presume on the periods of their continuance, 
 and make them the subjects of calculation, we should 
 forget our dependance — we should forget him who 
 is the arbiter of our destinies — we should " boast of 
 " to-morrow :" and in the world around us we should 
 see still more awful proofs of rebellion against the 
 government of the Almighty. But God is deter- 
 mined not only to make us know, but to make us 
 feel, that we are " in his hands," and at his disposal ; 
 to compel us to acknowledge our dependance ; to 
 detach us from the crowd, and noise, and tumult of 
 the world ; and to lead us to the silent and impres- 
 
XXVI. APPENDIX. 
 
 sive contemplation of things unseen and eternal. 
 Thus we are reminded of our mortality; we feel that 
 all our plans and purposes are entirely dependant on* 
 his arrangements ; and that " of him, and through 
 " him, and to him, are all things." 
 
 The elements of nature and the operations of pro- 
 vidence are under the constant superintendance of 
 divine wisdom and power; and those things which 
 one day minister to our comfort and enjoyment, may 
 be the next day the means of our destruction. 
 
 tr Fate steals along with silent tread — 
 '" Found oftenest in what least we dread ; 
 " Frowns in the storm with angry brow — 
 " And in the sunshine strikes the blow !" 
 
 "You know, my weeping friends, the afflictive cir- 
 cumstances tp which I allude. This very day on 
 which you are consigning his remains to the dust of 
 death with so much " lamentation and deep mourn- 
 ing," he had fixed upon as the time of his departure 
 from you for a season ; and in the private record of 
 his feelings, found among his papers since his de- 
 cease, he had described the fond anticipations of his 
 heart in the prospect of meeting his relations and 
 friends. Yet in the midst of all these glowing and 
 ardent expectations, his piety and his dependance on 
 the will of his heavenly Father were strikingly dis- 
 played—and " I hope, I trust, I wait" were the 
 expressions of chastened feelings which he blended 
 with all his arrangements. But God had other pur- 
 poses to accomplish : " his thoughts are not as the 
 " thoughts of man, his ways are not as the ways of 
 " man ;" and therefore I call upon you to contem- 
 plate in this dispensation A mysterious display 
 of divin b sovereignty. " In him we live, and 
 " move, arid have our being." On his power we are 
 continually dependant, and he has an undoubted 
 right to do with us " as seemeth good unto him." 
 When we reflect on our relation to God as creatures, 
 
APPENDIX. XXVH. 
 
 and our character as sinful creatures, so far from re- 
 pining at his visitations, we shall adore the justice that 
 " strikes our comforts dead." It is true those visita- 
 tions are sometimes so unexpected, so calamitous, 
 so adapted to derange our plans, and frustrate even 
 the designs we had formed with a view to the pro- 
 motion of the divine glory, that our minds are con- 
 founded, our faith trembles, our fears, and doubts, 
 and distrusts, gain the ascendency for a time over 
 our confidence and hopes, and we exclaim under 
 the influence of wounded feelings—'* Wherefore, O 
 " JLord, dost thou contend with us ?" Still, my af- 
 flicted friends, let us remember and adore the sove- 
 rignty of God. Its proceedings may appear to our 
 limited views mysterious and incomprehensible ; our 
 feeble vision may be overpowered by its splendour; 
 it may be " dark through brightness all along;" but 
 it is still the sovereignty of God,— it is never capri- 
 cious, never arbitrary, never inconsistent with the 
 perfections of his nature, and never opposed to the 
 declarations of his word. I know and feel that this 
 dispensation is inexplicable. God says to you— » 
 *' Sons of men — 1 takeaway this desire of your eyes 
 " with a stroke." And what prospects of usefulness 
 and of comfort are darkened by that cloud which is 
 passing over youl The churches of Christ sympa- 
 thize with you. Those pastors who so lately assem- 
 bled to be the witnesses of your order, and the par- 
 takers of your joy, are now weeping with you. Holy 
 angels who minister to the heirs of salvation behold 
 your sorrows ; and He who has glorified your na- 
 ture in heaven, remembers the tears he shed at the 
 grave of Lazarus, and is ■' touched with the feeling 
 " of your infirmities." But amidst all this scene of 
 affliction, amidst all the mysteriousness of this dis- 
 pensation, listen to thaf voice of comfort which the 
 Father of mercies speaks to your troubled minds — 
 " .Be still, and know that I am God — / will be ex- 
 
XXVUl. APPENDIX. 
 
 " alted in the earth :" " I will never leave you, J will 
 " never forsake you:" " What I do, ye know not 
 " now, but ye shall know hereafter." 
 
 The loss you have sustained is of no ordinary kind, 
 and you have to indulge in no ordinary recollections 
 concerning your departed pastor. Few ever entered 
 on a course of ministerial labour in more auspicious 
 and encouraging circumstances. In early life his 
 heart was the subject of gracious impressions, and 
 he was enabled to devote the bloom and blossom of 
 his youth to the service of the Redeemer. At that 
 period when only trifles and toys engage the atten- 
 tion of children in general, he discovered unusual 
 penetration and knowledge on subjects connected 
 with religion. He seemed to display a premature 
 developement of the powers of reasoning and of 
 communication ; and often delighted his friends by 
 explaining in the parlour, those portions of the sa- 
 cred word which had deeply engaged his attention, 
 with singular fluency and pathos, even before the 
 twelfth year of his age ! At that early period, he 
 discovered an unusual aptitude for the exercises of 
 the Christian ministry; not resulting from mere boy- 
 ish imitation, but apparently marked by the same 
 qualities of ardour, sincerity, and impassioned feel- 
 ing which distinguished his future course. Like hi3 
 divine Master, he was often amongst " the teachers 
 " of Israel;" and like him, as he " grew in wisdom 
 " and in stature," he grew also in " favour with God 
 " and man." When his powers of thought and ex- 
 pression were improved and matured by education, 
 he entered on a large and extended sphere of labour 
 in the church of God. Previous to the formation of 
 his short pastoral connexion, his ministry had excite 
 ed an unprecedented degree of interest and atten- 
 tion; and what surprised the most judicious of his 
 hearers, wherever he went was the ripened expe- 
 rience he seemed to possess in the things of God F 
 
APPENDIX. XXIX. 
 
 the chasteness and simplicity of that diction, in 
 which he uttered " the thoughts that breathed, and 
 words that burned." It was not the polish of aca- 
 demic splendour, nor the depth of elaborate argu- 
 mentation, nor the excursions of a brilliant and 
 roving fancy, that constituted the charm and attrac- 
 tion of his discourses ; but the evident indications of 
 u simplicity and godly sincerity," united with great 
 vehemence, and earnestness, and unaffected devo- 
 tion. Whatever he thought, he could instantly 
 present to the thoughts of others; and thus he im- 
 parted to his conceptions an extraordinary degree 
 of vividness and impression. Every one saw that 
 he was in earnest — that he felt his subject, and that 
 he was supremely desirous that others shouldfoel it 
 too. Many might be drawn to hear him, and no 
 doubt were drawn, by the accidental and exterior 
 attractions of voice, and manner, and appearance, 
 which he possessed. But the true source of the 
 unusual interest which pious hearers felt under his 
 discourses, was the prominence of evangelical sen- 
 timent they exhibited, in conjunction with the devout 
 animation of the preacher, and the faithfulness of his 
 appeals to the heart and conscience. It could not 
 be expected that in the very short space allotted for 
 his labours on earth, every topic in the wide range 
 of Christian truth could have occupied his attention, 
 much less have formed the subject of his discourses; 
 but what he did advance, discovered the accuracy 
 and extent of his conceptions. " Christ cruci- 
 " FIED" was his favourite theme; and it was evi- 
 dently his aim to deliver " the whole counsel of God," 
 His labours were signally successful: — and when 
 the annals of time shall be unfolded, and the deci- 
 sions of eternity pronounced, I doubt not that many 
 will be found to constitute " his joy and crown of 
 " rejoicing." 
 
*XX. APPENDIX. 
 
 Long- ought you, my friends, to remember him 
 who for a little while " had the rule over you ;" and 
 you should remember him, that you may " imitate 
 " his faith, and consider the end," the scope and 
 object " of his conversation." It was — " Jesus 
 " Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, 
 " AND for ever." The Saviour still lives— and 
 lives for the good of his people. He has removed 
 this " burning and shining light" from the hemis- 
 phere of' the church. It rose upon us in brightness 
 and in splendour, and as it advanced in its course, 
 gave delightful presages of future and progressive 
 glory. We hoped the path of this just one would 
 have been " as the shining light which shineth more 
 " and more unto the perfect day." But in a moment 
 that hand which " fed its secret fires" has arrested 
 its course, and obscured those glories that were vi- 
 sible in this " low, diurnal sphere." And is it 
 quenched in darkness? Is it set for ever in the 
 shades of death I No, my friends — because the Sun 
 of righteousness is the fountain of light, " they that 
 " be wise shall shine as the firmament, and they that 
 " turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever 
 " and ever." 
 
 What solemn instructive admonitiotis does this 
 dispensation of providence address to the children 
 of men ! It speaks to the thoughtless and uncon- 
 cerned — " Be ye also ready" — " Prepare to meet 
 your God." " One thing is needful." Could 
 that voice you shall hear no more, again address 
 you, with what solemnity and impression would its 
 last admonitions be reiterated and confirmed ! With 
 what attention and interest would you listen again 
 to its faithful warnings and expostulations ! And 
 hear ye not the voice of God in this afflictive visi- 
 tation I Will you yet be hardened against the ap- 
 peals of heavenly wisdom? — will you trifle on the 
 verge of the grave? — will you be insensible and uu- 
 
APPENDIX. XXxl. 
 
 moved in a scene like this, while standing amidst 
 the memorials of death, and on the threshhold of 
 eternity ? Oh ! may the removal of our friend, by 
 the blessing of God, produce those impressions and 
 convictions which his living instructions failed to 
 secure ! Yon may be called as suddenly as he was 
 to appear before the bar of the Most High, and to 
 give up your account* Are you prepared for that 
 interview? Is the God of Spencer, the God whose 
 mercy is revealed in the Bible, who is reconciled 
 only through Jesus Christ, " the resurrection and 
 " the life," — your God? " Seek FIRST the king*. 
 " dom of God, and the righteousness thereof," — and 
 then you will be taught how to live, and how to die! 
 This dispensation of providence is peculiarly af- 
 fecting to the mourning relatives of the deceased, 
 and to you, the bereaved and sorrowing flock of our 
 departed friend. You glorified God in him. The 
 religion of Christ forbids not your tears. You ought 
 to feel ; but as soon as you have wiped away those 
 tears, as soon as the oppressive feelings of grief will 
 permit you to extend and enlarge your views, re- 
 member that Jesus is ** the head over all things to 
 <l the church ;" and that with him is " the residue 
 4( of the Spirit." Even while you drop those tears 
 over this opening grave, think of Him who can be- 
 stow the mantle of the ascended prophet, and impart 
 a " double portion of his spirit." " His hand is not 
 " shortened that it cannot save." Amidst your suf- 
 ferings look to Him who is the " chief shepherd 
 " and bishop of your souls;" and never, never for- 
 get that sacred cause for which he lived, who is now 
 silent in the dust. Most powerful motives to per- 
 severance and activity are connected with this be- 
 reavement. Let the feelings of sanctified sorrow 
 urge you to go forward; let the affections of Chris- 
 tian friendship impel you to proceed in the course 
 of holy zeal on which you have entered, " ever 
 
XXX11. APPENDIX. 
 
 abounding in the work of the Lord." Let the con- 
 tinuance and progress of your devotion to the cause 
 of the Redeemer be the monument you consecrate 
 to the memory of your pastor. It is not the cause 
 of Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas : it is not the cause 
 of any individual, however dignified by gifts or 
 adorned by grace; but it is the cause of Him who 
 died and rose again — who once lay a prisoner in the 
 tomb, and is now at " the right hand of the ma- 
 " jesly on high." By the solemnities of this scene, 
 I beseech you to " work while it is called to-day ;" 
 and thus testify your regard to the pastor you have 
 lost, and to the Saviour whom he loved and served. 
 Blessed be God, we " sorrow not as those 
 who have no hope." What a scene of unmingled 
 gloom and horror would a grave present to our view, 
 were it not for " Jesus and the resurrection !" But 
 the Gospel has brought life and immortality to light; 
 it has shed its bright irradiations all along the valley 
 of the shadow of death ; and it enables us to con- 
 template the opening heavens of bliss beyond it. — 
 " Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift." 
 Animated by the glorious hopes which the Gospel 
 inspires, we commit the body of our friend to the 
 sepulchre of death. Farewell, departed spirit! 
 Thy days of mourning are ended! Thou art where 
 Jesus is, — where all his servants long to be ! Thou 
 art gone to thy Father, and to our Father, to thy 
 God and to our God ! Before the throne thou serv- 
 esl him — in the temple above, and thy removal shall 
 be another attraction to draw our hearts to heaven ! 
 Thou art satisfied with the likeness of thy Lord, and 
 the last song which thy voice uttered in the church 
 below, thou understandest now, — for 
 
 '' There thou shalt bathe thy weary soul 
 
 In seas of heavenly rest, 
 And not a wave of trouble roll 
 
 Across thy peaceful breast!" 
 
APPENDIX. IXXlll. 
 
 May He who was thy God on earth, be ours for 
 cer and ever! — our guide in all this gloomy vale, 
 our friend amidst its sorrows, our light in darkness, 
 and our life in death ! And " when heart and 
 
 FLESH SHALL FAIL, BE THOU, O GOD, THE 
 STRENGTH OF OUR HEARTS, AND OUR PORTION 
 FOR EVERT 
 
 FINIS, 
 
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