A memoir of the life and labours of the rev. Wm. Griffiths

Front matter

Google to make the world's books discoverable online.

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject

to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books

Chapter II

Drafted into the militia — march to Devonporfc— fools . and their money — strange coaching— Bristol — three months at Milford — a brother's visit — ^a Sabbath at home— an affecting farewell — ^return to Bristol — increasing seriousness — decision — an unpleasant biUet — ^march to Newcastle — a Sabbath at Durham— dischaige — ^return home 15

CHAPTER ni.

School keeping — ^night-schools — ^first sermon — distressed for a text — the list of members — care for the cause — Satan's tactics — self examination — religious talk — the great men of that day — ^Association at Llangeitho — another at Fishguard — hightful dr^am — examined and passed — appointment to Gower 36

CHAPTER rV.

dk>wer — scenery — ^moral darkness— a scene in the service — disappointment — Rev. Bees Jones — uncertainty — provisional appointment to Trinity, Llanmadock . . 68

CHAPTER V.

Divers tongues — ^Mr. GrijBSths in school — death of pupils — ignorance — sinful customs — sermon against the "mabsant"— jealousy— letter from the Rev. W. Kemp, &c., &0. 73

CHAPTER VI.

Removal to Pilton Green — affecting separation — school commenced — interest created — some impressions made — Immanuel Chapel — Mr. Hammerton — impleasantness — correspondence — rupture — farewell address at Immanuel 88 ir.

CHAPTER Vn.

Providence— new arrangement — death of Lady Barham — house taken at Overton — chapel purchased at Old Walls — ^a sacrament Sabbath — ordination — an offer from Lord Barham — acceptance of the same — settlement at Burry Green 109

CHAPTER Vin.

Bethesdaf — early thoughts of matrimony — birth of his son^porental care— birthday-day letters .... 127

CHAPTER IX.

Mr. Griffiths at home — a week's work — schools and catechisms — the "subject'* — death of the Rev. R. Jones 150

CHAPTER X. ffix weeks in the metropolis 162

CHAPTER XI.

Report of the cause — ^new trials — long suspense — ^voluminous correspondence — Chappy termination . . . 171

CHAPTER XXL A chapter of birthday records 188

CHAPTER XIIL

Attachment to Gower — ^Monthly Meetings and Associations— preaching tours in South "Wales — ^journeys to Korth Wales, Liverpool, and Manchester .... 200

CHAPTER XIV.

A testimonial, and its presentation 209

CHAPTER XV.

Light in the evening — accessions to the church — death of his brother — increasing weakness — ^the last supper — ^farewell prayer meeting— the end ...... 218

Ebsaxa.— Page 94, line 23, for "church" read "chapeL" „ „ Ime 26, for "chapel" read "church."

MEMOIR.

CHAPTER I,

iBirth and parentage — home training — early impressions— the boy preacher — a sermon in a ham— leaving home — death of parents.

Although the Rev. William Gbifpiths spent the greater part of his life in an English-speaking district, and preached and laboured chiefly in the English language, he was brought up in a neighbourhood which was at that time, and continues to the present day, entirely Welsh. In the north part of the County of Pembroke, and nearly bordering upon Cardiganshire, lies the pstrish of Clyday ; and in that parish there is a small farmhouse, known by the name of Blaenbrwynen. It was there, on the 21st of December, 1788, that the honoured subject of the present memoir was bom. His parents, Thomas and Mary Ghiffiths, belonged to the small farmers class; but were respected above most people in their own sphere of life, on account of their superior religious intelligence and piety. In the absence of worldly wealth and worldly influence, "the wisdom which is from above" brings present honour to those who possess it. Though the wealth of this world is generally and eagerly sought, and sought chiefly

B for the sake of the deference which is paid to earthly riches, though it is true that "money is power/' and that the man who has it is 'looked up to" by those who have it not, yet it is a well known fact that the weightiest influence in the world is that of character. Such, it appears, was the influence of Thomas and Mary Griffiths. They were remarkable for the extent of their acquaintance with their Master's Word, and for the promptitude of their obedience to his commandments; hence they were looked upon by the people of the neighbourhood as "leaders and instructors."

This pious pair bestowed great pains upon the training of their children. Family worship was never on any account neglected ; family instruction was faithfully and perseveringly imparted chiefly by the mother. She instructed her children in the leading facts and doctrines of the Bible; impressed upon their minds the evil of sinful practices ; talked to them often of death and the day of judgment, and frequently questioned them on what they had learnt, while the whole was enforced by strict but affectionate parental discipline, unswerving integrity, and holiness of life. It was in fact "a church in the house;*' and it is by no means marvellous that from such a family 88 this there should arise two such brothers as the Rev. Samuel Griffiths, of Horeb, and the Rey, William Griffiths, of 3urry Gr^en,

, As could be expected under the circumstances, Mr. Griffiths, in his earliest childhood, felt deep religious impressions. Between his 9th and 14th years especially he was haunted by fears of death and judgment; and though in after years he felt that he did not at this time le&ain from sin because of its sinfulness, nor possess any sanctifying and saviog knowledge of the truth, he had reason to bless God for that parental training which had been the means of resti'aining him from running to the same excesses as others at that critical period, when those habits are formed which leave their impressions on the character of the man during the whole period of his life.

In his childhood he was bashful and timid, much afraid of strangers, and distressed by the presence of all except the members of his own family and next door neighbours. On this account there was considerable difficulty in getting him to attend school. For some time his mother would follow him until she saw him enter the schoolroom. But after a while the master and schoolboys became "acquaintances;" all the terror was removed from that circle, and he began to like school and to make some progress in learning. It was, however, of short duration. Providence removed the family from that neighbourhood, and other circumstances combined to bring his school education to Qn abrupt and early conclusion.

Though not intended for the ministry by his pious parents, the ministerial instinct began to develop itself early in the timid and bashful boy. His fondness for books and his maternal catechizing gave him scriptural knowledge far beyond the generality of lads of his age ; and it does not appear that he was backward in displaying his acquirements among his boyish friends, so that he and his brother came to be known by their playmates as "the preachers." To play "meeting " was one of their favourite pastimes; and on those occasions either he or his brother Samuel was invariably the " officiating minister." It was not with him, however, altogether play. On the contrary, when he stood up to address his companions, he "felt quite serious." On one occasion an exhibition of this kind on his part turned out more "serious" than he had anticipated. The farm servants in the bam had persuaded him to preach them a sermon, not so much, it is to bo feared, for their edification as for their amusement. The day of judgment seems at this time to have been uppermost in his thoughts. His mother often spoke to him of death and judgment. Often was he haunted with fears of that great day. He had a remarkable dream of the end of all things, when he saw the world burning, and the field on which he stood burning on both sides, and eventually cleaving in two just under his feet. Some one, howeyer, helped him out of the opening gulf before He went down; and He saw tHe Judge standing in the clouds just above His Head, casting upon Him a kind and compassionate look. And now tHat He was called to preacH a sermon to tHe farm servants in the bam, He selected for His subject tHe end of tHe world and tHe day of judgment. He Had proceeded for some time peacefully and satisfactorily with His discourse, and was sHouting at tHe top of His voice, "THe world will burn witH fire, and all tHings sHall melt into water, tHe people and all tHe cattle of tHis place sHall perisH'' — wHen, lo! tHe sermon was brougHt to an abrupt termination by tHe imexpected and unwelcome entrance of His fatHer. However pleasing His effort may Have been to His audience, it was most revolting to tHe feelings of His pious parent tHat He sHould tHus profanely dare to trifle witH sacred tHings; and severe reproof was tHe reward wHicH He obtained for His bam ministrations.

During tHe days of His boyHood and early youtH, He was religious after a certain fasHion. He attended tHe public means of grace, and frequently enjoyed tHem. He read tHe Bible, principally tHe Historical portions. He was constant in tHe exercise of private prayer. Now He felt deep religious impressions, and now He lost tHem. His case need not be described to tHose wHo Have passed tHrougH tHe same process; it is tHe old old story wHicH is well known to every one wliose early training and reHgiotts im-* pressions, after years of conflict with the world without and corruption within, haye at length resulted in his saving conversion. When, after arriving at mature age, he took a retrospect of this period of his life, he wrote: —

" I had a kind of reverence for God, and foi* everything religious, all the time I lived under my father's roof; but it was more the effect of parental training than of any spiritual knowledge of the character of God, or of the evil of sin. It was light in my head, and not love in my heart. This shows the necessity of regeneration to produce a right state of feeling towards God, whatever our age or our privileges may happen to be. We must be bom again, or we continually niistake the nature and purposes of true piety. I know, from the recollections I still have of my childhood and youth, how easily men may be deceived themselves, and deceive others in this matter; thinking that religion consists in outward habits and exercises, arising more from the imitation of others than from any sense of Divine obligation — a rittial service of God taking the place of faith and love. Few men have had better opportunities to learn what true religion is than I had when with my parents ; yet, when I come to review and examine that knowledge, behold it was nothing, nothing at all to the purpose. I was proud enough to think that I was better than others of my age and station; and this pride was fostered by the praises of others older than myself, who I remember used to admire the 'boy,' and frequently to ask one another, 'What manner of child shall this be?' When I lookback oyer this period, I feel indeed thankful to God for the great privilege of having been bom of pious parents, and trained early in the ways of salvation; but in respect to myself, I see nothing but cause of shame and regret that all this time I was a stranger to every i^iritual truth."

When he was about 14 years of age, circumstances transpired which made it* necessary that he should leave his father's house, and seek employment as a servant on one of the neighbouring &rms. Happily for him he found a place in a religious family. Here he enjoyed the same privileges as at home; and during his residence in this household, his religious impressions do not seem to have lost their influence over his mind or his outward conduct. But at the close of the twelve months he was removed to quite a different sphere. His new master was himself a religious man; but all the rest of the large household, and the servants especially, were, to use his own words, "vain and worldly characters." Daily intercourse with these sons of Belial to a great extent counteracted his religious impressions, while his timid and bashi^l nature could not withstand their "scoffs and merry jests at serious religion ;" and he was unable to restrain himself from joining them in the levities which gave him bitter pangs of conscience when alone, though he thankfully records that neither the influence of their example nor their direct temptation succeeded in leading him into paths of positive inmiorality.

But he was now in slippery places ; religion and religious means were growing distasteful to him; the habit of private prayer was discontinued; and though he did not nm to the same excess of riot as others, he would have liked to do so if he only dared. There was a growing taste for the pleasures of sin, and it was only the restraints of fear that prevented them from being gratified. Many are the youths who have for a time felt these restraints, but who have at length broken through them, and have taken revenge on their past fears by the enormity of their excesses. Water runs with all the more impetuosity when once it has forced down the embankment that for a while held it back. He that was possessed with the legion of imclean spirits, was often bound with fetters and chains; but the chains were plucked asunder by him, and the fetters broken in pieces, and then his cries on the mountains and among the tombs were more fearful, and the injuries he inflicted upon himself more serious than if he had never been bound at all. "When ihere is nothing to oppose a sinful inclination but mere dread of the consequences of sin, the "victory will at length be won by the evil; and in many instances the destruction of eyery good habit and feeling will be the more complete, and the indidgence in sinful habits the more determined, in proportion to the violence of the struggle by which the victory has been achieved.

Had William Griffiths at this time enjoyed unbroken prosperity, we know not how far his

iniquities would have prevailed. His mind was sobered again and again by a succession of pain« ful dispensations. Both his excellent parents were removed to their rest within ten months of each other, when he was in his sixteenth year ; and just as the impressions produced by these painful visitations were beginning to pass away» his serious thoughts of death and judgment again disappearing, and his habit of private prayer again discontinued, he was himself attacked with a dangerous fever, then prevalent in the neighbourhood, and which proved fatal to great numbers. By this he was brought to the verge of the grave. For some time his life was despaired of; and as his health and strength were slowly returning, he resolved to serve that God who had so mercifully spared him. *' I promised in myself," he writes, "to mend my ways, and to lead a godly life; but it was all in my own ftrength, ariiing, as I aflterwards understood, from a legal spirit/' Thus we find him, at the age of eighteen, retaining some of the outward forms of religion, attending religious means,keepiiig "scrap books/' in which he wrote "verses of hymns that he heard in public worship which were to his taste/' and yet a stranger to the power of religion in his soul ; a young man of uncorrupted morals, but a young man with an unrenewed heart. By the mercy of God, the conflict that was then raging in his mind did not come to the disastrous termination that we have above attempted to describe. Though he was kept from outward sins only by the restraints of conscience, and although those restraints were becoming weaker and weaker as the evil disposition within him was increasing in strength, and the temptations around him were increasing in number and Tiolonoe, they were kept unbroken until his heart was changed — ^until faith and love subdued iho evils which fear had but feebly opposed, and made his Aiture life an example, and himself a a trophy of the triumphs of Divine grace.

CHAPTER II.

Brafted into the militia — march to Devonport— fools and their money — strange coaching — ^Bristol — three montha at Milford — a brother's visit — a Sabbath at home -^an affecting farewell— return to Bristol — ^increasing seriousness — decision — an unpleasant billet — ^march to Kewcastle — ^a Sabbath at Durham— discharge — ^return homei.

In the year 1807, before Mr. Griffiths was ftilly nineteen years of age, an event took place which proved the crisis of his life, and of which he afterwards wrote: "Though it was very painftil to me at the time, it was overruled by Providence for my ftiture benefit, and opened step by step the way by which the Lord brought me into his house, and employed me in his vineyard to this day."

Those were days of war and commotion, of fear and forebodings. Napoleon Bonaparte was then at the zenith of his power, and pursuing his victorious career on the continent of Europe. The victories of Austerlitz, Jena, Eylau, and Friedland, had broken the strength of the great continental powers, and had compelled them to accept peace on the conqueror's own terms. England seemed then to be the only obstacle in his way to universal dominion, and he had just commenced his grand system of measures for excluding her fr6m the trade of the continent, by declaring the British Isles in a state of blockade, and prohibiting all intercourse with them;

while England had hurled defiance in his face by declaring every port from which she was excluded in a state of blockade, and all vessels trading with it liable to capture. He had made great preparations with a view to invade this coimtry; aud though the French fleet had been annihilated at Trafalgar, all danger of invasion had not yet passed away. Thirteen years before this time a French force had actually landed on the coast of Pembrokeshire ; and though it was so insig* nificant as to be obliged to surrender without a struggle, the terrible sensation which it had created throughout the whole of that district had not yet fully subsided. The remembrance of that attempt, combined with the disastrous tidings which continued to arrive from the continent, kept the minds of the people in a state of constant alarm, and there was nothing more common than to hear that "the French were coming." The militia regiments of all the counties were then in constant service; and the period of service for each man was five years. To fill up vacancies occasioned by the expiration of that term, as well as by enlistments into the regular army, recourse was had to renewed drafting; and on one of these occasions our Mend was drafted into the Carmarthenshire Militia. The necessities of the country's defence having considerably enhanced the value of labour, and the fear of a French invasion rendering a conflict with the enemy in our own country probable, the price of substitutes stood at a yerj high figure. Some were obliged to pay £50, others as much as £60, for men to serve in their stead. Such a sum was far above the reach of William Griffiths, or any of his friends ; and he was, therefore, obliged in the depth of winter, and with a heavy heart, to leave his home in company with three hundred other recruits, to join the regiment, then stationed at Devonport.

Among these there were several substitutes, who were, for that reason, abounding in money, but who had little idea of its value or power. They had heard of such a sum as fifty pounds, but had never seen it in their lives before ; and now that they had it in their own actual possession, they thought themselves enormously rich. They had no conception of all that it would do for them, but they felt certainly persuaded of one thing — that it was inexhaustible. The idea of being able to come to the end of such a vast sum as fifty poimds was too preposterous to entertain for a moment. No, they could spend as much as they pleased without the least danger of spending the whole. As soon as they reached their destination, and joined their comrades, these men presented an apt illustration of the well known adage — " the fool and his money are soon parted." We have heard Mr. Griffiths giving some amusing examples of the means which they employed to get, if poddible, at tlie bottom of the immense treasure. Among other things, they would hire a coach, moimt on its top, and ask the coachman to take them wherever he pleased, only he must drive in full gallop, and give them a ten shilling run. That ''run" of course would soon come to an end; but they must have another, and then another. It mattered little or nothing that they were taken over the same ground again and again, for they were now actually on a coach, a thing which they had rarely seen in their lives, and never seen occupied but by gentlemen. If some ef their old neighbours were but to see them now, what would they say? Besides all this, the *'old hands," like vultures, scented their prey, and paid great respect to the "monied men" for the sake of hot suppers and general good cheer. Between all, they were not many weeks before they discovered that their mine of wealth was a thing that coidd be exhausted, and simultaneously with this they made another discovery ; namely, that all flatterers are not friends. Of course nothing in the shape of treats was expected from the balloted men. They were poor, and therefore, although they had for the time less respect, they received more kindness. Our friend had no disposition to drink himself, nor had he the means wherewith to treat others. He was not, therefore, expected to join them in their bouts of revelry. His poverty was to him a preservative from temptation; and to this in after time be thankfully ascribed his having passed in safety through scenes which were the ruin both temporally and morally of not a few of his comrades.

Military life did not turn out as unpleasant to him as he had feared. His cheerful disposition and fund of amusing anecdotes made him a favourite in the regiment; but he was falling fast into a state of indifference to the interests of his soul. Barrack work on the Sabbath, which at first seemed strange to him, and made him feel very unhappy, had become less distasteful; and he began to regard it as one of the necessities of his situation, and therefore no sin at all. After spending four months at Devonport, they were marched to Bristol. It was then the custom to send detachments from the force stationed at the latter place to do duty in rotation for three months at Milford; and it came to his lot, after spending some four months at Bristol, to be sent down in one of these detachments. He was thus brought to spend a short time in his native county, and within reach of his Mends. "I was then," he writes, "beginning to settle down in hardness of heart, accommodating myself, as I thought, to a soldier's life, and resolved not to think of religion until my five years' service had expired." While he was at Milford, his brother Samuel, who m the mean time bad b^Qome a decided character, paid liiin a visit, stayed with him one night, spoke to him much of the dangers of his situation, crowded as he was into a barrackroom with a host of ungodly companions, fax from religious friends, and deprived of the benefits of religious conversation and the means of grace. He expressed the hope that the Lord would preserve him, and declared that for himself he did not think that he could ever live in such a place. He related the manner in which the Lord had been pleased to visit their native home with a mighty revival of religion, and named several of the companions of their childhood who had since his departure become the disciples of Christ. This conversation made a deep impression on his mind.

When the period of service at Mllford had expired, and the detachment had reached Narberth on its march back towards Bristol, he obtained leave of absence for two days to visit his friends. The news of his arrival soon spread through the neighbourhood, and a large number of his old friends and companions came together to see him. He had no opportunity however to relate to them any of the scenes and adventures of his soldier life, so eager were they to tell him what great wonders of grace Qod* had wrought and was still working among them. They manifested great concern for his spiritual welfare, and sincerely lamented his **hard lot/' Next mom* ing he must leave to rejoin his company at Carmarthen. Being the Sabbath, his brother had engagements which he could not relinquish, and therefore was unable to accompany him any part of his way; but this duty was performed by his eldest sister, a decidedly pious young woman, who lived for many years adorning her Christian profession. "She came with me," he writes, '* about twenty miles, until we came within sight of Carmarthen, and talked to me aU the way about good things, and about our dear parents then in heaven. We parted in deep distress, not knowing that we should see each other ever again. She wept bitterly as she was turning back the head of her horse, and taking the one on which I rode from me. I refrained from manifesting any feeling until I had gone out of her sight, then I wept much. All my former life, my convictions, short reformations, and my relapses to my former careless state came fresh before my mind. I well remember saying to myself, The prayers of our godly parents are answered in the conversion of the other children; but as for me, I am lost. I am like a black bird, that must perish. My convictions were vivid, but I had no hope. My former knowledge of scripture truths seemed to have deserted me; and in this state of mind I reached the town. I sincerely trust to this day that this was the begini^ng of the good work in my soul, though for several months afterwards I struggled hard against it." As they were marching on towards Bristol, his unusual pensiyeness attracted the attention of his comrades, and drew from some of them the remark that ** he must have mixed with the Methodists on the Sunday.'' This was too much for him. He would be cheerful. His companions must not be allowed to think that he was religious. Eeligion was all very well, and he would much like to possess it; but to be thought religious by these young men was more than he could bear. He would laugh and joke as usual, he would do anything rather than that people should be led to think that he was tainted with Methodism. But it would not do. There was a sting in his conscience all the while, for the arrow of conyiction had now penetrated his heart.

Some months of severe conflict followed. "When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace." He will not surrender possession until a stronger than he shall come upon him, and not even then without a determined struggle. The wrath of the devil when he has descended among men is so much the greater "because he knoweth that he hath but a short time." The extraordinary instances of demoniacal possession which occurred when our Saviour was on earth, are ascribed by many to the fact that the eyil one had some forebodings that the conflict in which he was to be so signally defeated was at the door. When summoned to leave those of whom he had taken possession, he would not do so without first throwing them on the ground and tearing them. The subject of our memoir experienced strange commotions as the dominion of Satan over him was drawing to a close. Now he would go to the Welsh chapel in Broadmead, and that which he heard there was as a two-edged sword to his heart and conscience; and now he would fight with those convictions, determined, if possible, to put them down. "I strove hard," says he, ''for sometime between sinning and repenting, between sinfiil company and no company at all. Once or twice I tried the society of drunkards, following them to the ale-house, in the hope of finding peace; but there I felt truly miserable, and my conscience on fire." In the heat of the battle he was driven to commit sins of which he had never in his life been guilty before. That his companions might not suspect that he entertained any serious thoughts of religion, he would venture some times to curse and swear. On one occasion, when standing with forty or fifty others on College Ghreen, he confirmed some statement with an oath. One of the bystanders, a notorious swearer himself, pointed to him with his finger, and said with a loud laugh, "Did you hear him swear?" The enemy had overacted his part