Chapter I
Providence and grace— The birth and parentage of the subject of the memoir— He is left an orphan— bent early to the collieries— Meets with a pit accident— His / /a affection for his foster-mother— Exemption from gross immorality— Is playfully mischievous— The gayety ot his disposition— Enters a rifle corps— Is distinguished in the band— Invited to a class meeting— Conviction- Conversion— Learns to read— Suffers through his connection with the army. ^ a S e 9 CHAPTER II.
His person— His mind— Natural character— An apology for his language and metaphors— Is partial to life rmth in religion — His love of class meeting — Is tly eccentric— His method of overcoming terrp- -Takes by surprise— His conduct in social tgs, in aid of his leader. 23 CHAPTER III.
Visits the chamber of the sick — Faith — His peculiar .node of pleading the promises — Brings a mariner to class — Individuality in prayer — His manner of beginning the Sabbath — Love of the Scriptures— Partiality to prayer meetings — Power in acting and painting— Startling effects of his conduct to juvenile transgressors in the pit — A sudden hell — Delights to set the minds of others imperceptibly afloat on different subjects — Listens to the voice of prayer — Is a nursing father to young converts — His anxiety for the salvation of sinners — A revival. 43 CHAPTER IV.
Love-feast addresses — Enlargement of soul — Caution in reference to love feasts — Preparation for heaven, under the similitude of waiting for a stage coach — His use of Scripture narrative — Occasional conduct in love-feasts and fellowship meetings — The recognition of saints in heaven — Is a publisher of glad tidings — A characteristic stroke on preaching — His love of Christian ministers — Imposes silence on false reasoning — Wild fire — The superiority of deeds to words — Encouragement to expectants — Life a journey — Sudden illumination — The ready reception of a blessing — Comprehensive views — Perseverance and malignity of S^tan
4 CONTENTS TO WALL'S END MINER.
— The destruction of sin necessary to religious prosperity — Power over the devil. 66 CHAPTER V.
Progress in piety — His usual place of retirement — Answers to prayer — Prays for the preachers — Conversions — He is not to be taken in all things as a model — His exemption from frivolity — A peculiarity in his conceptions — His conduct under severe providential dispensations — Personal affliction — Attempts to do good in a pecuniary way—His benevolence of character-Grateful acknowledgments — He aids a poor widow — A love feast — Singing — A dream — Mr. Bramwell — A garden. 89 CHAPTER VI.
A few of his last days — Visit to one of his daughters — Has a prayer-meeting in a field — Receives his last ticket — Remarkable expressions — Attends the bed of the dying — The spirit of prayer — Family worship — Descends the pit for the last time. — The Catastrophe — Religious aspect of the subject — Extent of the calamity — The rapidity with which the fire moved — Kindness, mixed with severity — The guilty spared — A merciful providence in the timing of the event — The general distress occasioned. U-3
CHAPTER VII.
The Catastrophe continued— Pleasing indications of a preparation for another world in some of the juvenile sufferers— The Scriptures— Prayer preferred to necessary food — Sunday-school teachers' festival, and its painful associations— Extorted confessions, and knowledge of character— Exemplification of Christian fortitude and resignation in the bereaved— Unruffled repose — Agony blended with tenderness — Painful disappointment—The mother and the Christian— Agonizing reflections— Sources of consolation— Circumstances heightening the distress consequent on the loss of life, in the widow and the fatherless— Despair— Consequences of the disfigured state of some of the bodies. 1^1
CHAPTER VIII.
Brief extracts from a journal of events—Preparations for descent— Discoveries— Four persons found alive —Their state— Funeral ceremonies— A general visitation— Character of eight young men and boys—Sudden glory— Respect paid to Crister— Position in which he was found— Thomas Reaveley— Joseph Lawson— A
Christian Sabbath and its duties— Concern for the young — Use of the whole.
Preface
THE WALL'S END MINER.
To persons remote from the scene where the subject of the following pages spent his days, and also unacquainted with its local history, it may be stated that " WalVs End" is situated on the north side of the Tyne, in the county of Northumberland, immediately on the main road leading from Newcastle to Shields, and is about four miles, being an equal distance, from each place. The name is derived from the famous wall built by the Emperor Severus, A. D. 207, which stretched across the country, passed through the site of the present town of Newcastle, and here terminated its eastern course. The wall itself was constructed of square stones — was twelve feet high and eight broad — and was every way, except on the edges of precipices, accompanied by a deep ditch or foss. The site of this wall, and the hollow of the foss, running parallel with the present turnpikeway, are still to be traced from Byker-Hill mill to the first milestone on the Shields road ; and a fragment of the wall itself is still to be
6 wall's end minee.
seen near the bridge oyer Denton Burn, a little west of Newcastle,
But apart from Roman history, and independent of any knowledge of its association with the place, the "Wall's End" coal has heen long famed for its excellent quality ; so much so, indeed, that coal-dealers hare been detected in a fraudulent use of the name in the market,— pushing off under its sanction an inferior article. In this excellent mine, the subject of the present memoir was long , employed ; and the products of his toil warmed many a metropolitan hearth, from the cottage to the palace, and from the kitchen to the drawing room, — his own heart being often heated to intensity with the love of God, while in the midst of his numerous aspirations to Heaven the material was passing through his horn-worked hands.
Several objections were presented to the writer's mind on first taking up the subjectobjections much more discouraging than those which operated in the case of "The Village Blacksmith"— a work the success of which has exceeded any thing he could possibly have anticipated, and for which he expresses his gratitude both at the bar of criticism and to an indulgent public. For though the son of Vulcan was far his inferior in intellect, and might have kept his forge at work with the Tyne-Side miner's materials, — preserving his own native warmth in full vigour, as did " Peter," in company with " the servants
WALL ? S END 31INER. 1
and officers, who had made a fire of coals," before which they " stood ;" and at which " they warmed themselves,'* yet he was invested with more associate circumstances, characters, and scenes, than his humble follower, on many of which depends a considerable portion of the interest of the narrative. The miner was too much localized to admit of variety arising from a change of society and of place ; in a description of which the reader often experiences more enjoyment than the actual spectator. The want of office, too, on which public character takes its stand, leading to various associations, as well as to intellectual development, was another defect. Hence it was, that the writer saw before him a narrative of sayings, rather than of doings ; and felt a danger of being hemmed within the limits of a bare delineation of character, rather than that of having the privilege of expatiating at large over the whole course of a richly varied life.
He recollected, however, that he had a candid and intelligent religious public to deal with, — persons who would look for no more from a miner than what the character of his circumstances would admit ; who would never look for the refinement of manners from the cottager which might reasonably be expected from the courtier — for the same knowledge from the uneducated plebeian as from the man of learning — or who would hope to see a prince in manners, and a Solomon in wisdom, without promise or preparation, starting into existence out of a collier. Taste, perhaps, rather than judgment — as in the case of particular artists, led the writer to decide upon his subject. He always prefers the thatched cottage in ruin, to the stately villa, trimmed and squared, for pictorial effect ; and the rude cascade to the polished stream. When he laid hold of his subject, he found him an original of his kind ; and an original of any kind, whether in prose or verse, in science or mechanics, in the hamlet or in the city, will present some points of interest which may be considered peculiar, and claimed as personal property. An estate may be fertile, though not large ; and a garden will present as many beauties, and create as lively an interest, as a wide monotonous heath, distinguished only for its sterility. Here the candid reader will find a garden — not of flowers barely, but of fruit ; and though the inheritor was poor, the crop may be viewed as rich for heaven. If the writer should have been in error respecting the quality, the judicious reader will be able to detect, as the candid, it is hoped, will be disposed to bear with the mistake.
J. E.
Newcastle, Sept llth, 1835.
WALL'S END MINER.
CHAPTER L
Providence and grace — The birth and parentage of the subject of the memoir — He is left an orphan — Sent early to the collieries — Meets with a pit accident— His affection for his foster-mother — Exemption from gross immorality — Is playfully mischievous — The gayety of his disposition — Enters a ntle corps — Is distinguished in the band — Invited to a class meeting — Conviction — Conversion — Learns to read- Suffers through his connection with the army.
Miners and mariners are among those classes in society who, in their lawful occupations, are much more exposed to sudden death, in the various perils by which they are surrounded, than others ; and it is a fact, in the history of Wesleyan Methodism, which ought not to be overlooked, that God, in infinite mercy, directed the attention of its extraordinary founder, at the earliest period, first to the colliers of Kingswood, and next to those on the Tyne and the Wear, — taking a stride, so to speak, from one extremity of the land to the other,— leaving thickly populated districts unvisited between, — and thus, to persons in the greatest danger, offering the only means of everlasting safety. However this feature of divine Providence may be viewed by others, to a person divinely enlightened, the subject will come with a peculiarly impressive power to the heart ; and no one, possessed of genuine Christian philanthropy, but must exult in the more than usual harvest reaped for the garner of God among this death-exposed race of industrious men. The same Being who has so often met them in the terrors of his Providence has, in this instance, met them in the riches of his grace — amply compensating the perils of the one in the blessings of the other.
William Crister, who was born in the Close, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, in the county of Northumberland, December 26th, 1779, was a trophy of no ordinary worth, among thousands of others, who graced the triumphs of the Redeemer, while following his steps upon earth. His father was a bass-maker, and had six children in all, of whom William was the youngest. His mother, when he was about eighteen months old, was seized with an illness which soon terminated in her dissolution; not long after which, his father also died. The mother, during her illness, requested a friend to take care of William ; and that friend, kindly acceding to the request, removed him to the collieries, where he was brought up in the lowly walks of life.
When in the seventh year of his age he was sent to work in the pit at Bigge's Main ; and having laboured there the space of four years, the family with whom he resided removed to Wall's End Colliery, whither he accompanied them, and in which he was employed the remainder of his days. While at Bigge's Main, he had a narrow escape when at work ; for so near was the fire, during the explosion, that it drove some small pieces of coal into his face, the blue marks of which he carried with him to the end of his pilgrimage.
The family, under whose roof he was reared, treated him with great affection, and his orphan heart clung with equal tenderness and gratitude to his foster-mother. He was advised, when he grew up, to quit the house by those who ought to have known better, and to appropriate his wages to his own use. But he had too tender a nature cruelly to abandon old age, and too deep a sense of the kindness received to forget it. When the woman was sick to whom he had looked up as to a mother, he provided whatever was within the range of his power for her comfort, and gave her the whole of his earnings as long as she lived. With this family he continued till he was about one and twenty years of age, when he entered into the marriage state ; remaining from eight to nine years more an utter stranger to experimental religion.
Previously to his marriage, he w r as distinguished for a decent morality, for honesty and industry ; nor less so when he was surrounded by a family of his own. He was sportive rather than vicious, — would have raised the laugh rather than have produced the tear by imparting pain, — and would have led the way to harmless amusement rather than have followed in the wake of crime. As a key to character, it may be stated that when he found a neighbour's door open, and the house without an inmate, he would have stepped in unperceived, and would have concealed in one of the most unlikely places to look for it, either some article of value, or something likely to be wanted for immediate use ; watching the while for the return of the careless absentee, in order to observe the workings of the mind, to see the first surprise or fear, and to furnish an opportunity of exercising affected sympathy in the presumed loss. This led to occasional falsehood, which his unenlightened mind placed to the account of innocent amusement. After he had amused himself some time, with demure look, and soft speech, he would then point to the place of concealment — turn upon his heel with a laugh — and leave them as much overjoyed with the discovery as vexed with his folly, — the persons often sending after him the nearest article they could hurl without serious injury to either. An unoccupied house — though but for a moment — would have been deemed a favourable occasion by the unprincipled for purposes of plunder ; but though destitute of the fear of God, Crister was honest to man.
The natural gayety of his spirit, and benevolence of his disposition, leading him more into the company of the facetious than the facinorous, he was consequently less exposed than many around him to the effects of profane habits. No society was allowed to be sad in his presence. Having considerable wit and fancy of his own — being generally on the look-out for the droll, quaint, smart sayings of others — and possessing what, in humble life, might be deemed considerable facundity, he was very often the harlequin of the persons with whom he associated, and was sure to renovate the flagging attention and overworked spirits of any who might be disposed to sink.
One circumstance which contributed not a little to his notoriety in his unrenewed state was the establishment of a corps of riflemen, during the continental struggle, of which Mr. Buddie was captain, and in the band of which Crister alternately beat the great drum, and amused himself with the tambarine. Though an adept in handling both instruments, yet it was in the use of the latter he particularly excelled ; and being exceedingly flexile, active, and varied, in his numerous evolutions, — employing the. heel, the toe, the knee, the forehead, the chin, the back part of the head, the shoulder, the elbow, knuckles, and fingers, — passing from one to another, and from one extremity to the other, with the utmost ease, rapidity, and grace, he attracted immense crowds to see his performance. While others delighted the ear with their music, Crister fixed the eye by his antics, — the music itself appearing very often a mere accompaniment to an exhibition in which he stood as the chief actor. But though extremely partial to music, and almost living in its sound, he was never able to read it. His ear was quick and good ; and he would have caught a tune as expeditiously, and fixed it nearly as permanently, as a person could have committed it to paper.
William Kennedy, who was anxious to promote the moral arid religious welfare of his fellow-creatures, pressed his own brother Thomas, and W. Crister, to accompany him to Mr. Reay's class, which met in the house of the latter, at Carville. They both complied ; and though Crister entered the room a perfect stranger to the odiousness and criminality of moral evil, he left it with a deep concern for the salvation of his soul ; and continued a member of the class to the day of his death — a period of about twenty-six years, having united himself to it, January 17th, 1809. He had attended preaching at Carville Chapel some time previously to this, and manifested more than usual thoughtfulness, which induced W. Kennedy to give him the invitation. But still he remained unscathed in conscience. Here, however, the " scales" fell from his eyes ; he beheld himself in " a horrible pit of miry clay ;" and, what was worse, he found that the bottom of the pit constituted the lid which opened to the mouth of hell. From thence, he sent up his piercing wailings to heaven, and " the Lord inclined unto" him, " and heard" his " cry." The " coals of juniper," remarkable for their intense heat, had entered the soul. Conviction raged like a fire within, and drank up his spirits. His vivacity forsook him; and he wept for very anguish of soul.
His repentance was deep and genuine, but not of long continuance, as to its "weepings and wailings;" for in a few weeks he obtained a clear sense of his acceptance with God, through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
He fixed the eye of his soul upon a crucified Redeemer ; by which act he was raised out of the " horrible pit of miry clay," in which he had found himself so deeply plunged, — and which may be illustrated by a dream which a person had, who, like himself, was in search of salvation. The person in question dreamed, according to statement, that he lay at the bottom of a coal pit, without the least apparent possible way of escape. After remaining in that state some time, he turned his eye up the shaft, and saw a small circle of the dark blue heavens. While looking with despondency, and yet wistfully, for some time, a beautiful star appeared, stealing out of the deep azure above, — rendering that azure still more deep as its own rays became more beautifully bright. This luminary stood directly over him ; and one of his first thoughts was — " This is the Star of Bethlehem." In the act of gazing upon it, with some degree of admiration, he thought he felt its attractive influence, and was by almost imperceptible degrees raised toward the day. By some mishap, he lost sight of it, and fell; and on looking upward again, it had disappeared. He lay, and mourned his wretchedness, — wishing for its re-appearance. After a short time had elapsed, it again stole through the gloom, and stood over him as lovely as before. Again he gazed with intensity — again he felt its attractive force — and again he arose. But the eye once more betrayed its trust — and that moment he fell. His distress was proportionally great ; and what seemed to augment it was, he despaired, while in the very act of longing, looking, and watching, of ever again being favoured with a gleam of its rays.
It once more, however, refreshed his vision. He looked — he rose — the eye was true — he reached the top — and awoke in an ecstacy. — Thus it was with Crister. He beheld Jesus, as the bright, the Morning Star, — as " the Star of Jacob," rising on the darkness of human nature, and shedding his healing beams upon the lost sons of Adam. Faith was represented to him under the notion of attentively viewing an object, and he was accosted in the Bible with, " Look unto me, all ye ends of the earth, and be ye saved." He was taught that though the brazen serpent was lifted up, it was only available, in its healing influence, to those who looked upon it. He was taught, also, that the virtue was not so much in the serpent as in the look. Here he was able to perceive a difference between the type and the anti-type ; for he found real virtue in Christ — but still that virtue only went out of him, in proportion as he looked upon him with the eye, or laid hold of him by the hand of faith, He stretched forth his arm, in pursuance of the last figure of speech, as he had often done at the bottom of the shaft, and, empty-handed, laid hold of the mercy of God, through faith in Jesus Christ, as upon a golden chain, and maintained his hold of the last link till it drew him up to heaven. The Lord, in the expressive language of Elihu, brought " back his soul from the pit, to be enlightened with the light of the living ;" and in the farther figurative language of the psalmist, " set his feet upon a rock, and established his goings." He was now no longer among the " slime pits" in " the vale of Siddim." He had firm footing.
The room in which the class met, was afterward converted into a shop ; and with that room he had many agreeable associations. " I can go," he would say, " to the very spot where the Lord set my soul at liberty. There is a hogshead of sugar now standing upon the place :" a reflection to him much sweeter than the fruit of the cane to the palate, and through which he could look up to heaven with "Abba, Father," dwelling upon his lips, and freedom in his heart. It is a remarkable fact, that some of our best % feelings are revived on our having certain trifling localities brought before the eye. " If an old man," says Foster, " wishes to animate for a moment the languid and faded ideas which he retains of his youth, he might walk with his crutch across the green where he once played with companions who are now probably laid to repose in another spot not far off. An aged saint may meet again some of the affecting ideas of his early piety in the place where he first thought it happy to pray. A walk in a meadow, the sight of a bank of flowers, perhaps even of some one flower in a landscape with the tints of autumn, the descent into a valley, the brow of a mountain, the house where a friend has been met, or has resided, or has died, have often produced a much more lively recollection of our past feelings, and of the objects and events which caused them, than the most perfect description could have done; and we have lingered a considerable time for the pensive luxury of thus resuming the departed state." The sight of the hogshead, which was stationary, reminded Crister years afterward, what took place when kneeling on the boards beneath it.
Not satisfied with his attempts to pray in public at first, and being deficient in confidence, he laboured to conceive a prayer in his mind, and to preserve it in recollection. This he sought to repeat on different occasions ; but feeling himself trammelled with it, and finding it also injurious to the free spirit of prayer, he laid it aside, and depended upon the spontaneous effusions of the moment : remarking, that he " walked by the aid of a crutch at first, but was soon able to go alone."
Being extremely partial to class meeting, he never, with the exception of once, absented himself from church fellowship, unless lawfully detained. At the time alluded to, he was the subject of strong temptation ; and instead of going to the meeting, he strolled down the banks of the Tyne. He soon felt that he had entered into the temptation ; and after much prayer, he vowed before the Lord — a vow which he was able to keep to the day of his death, that he would never more give place to Satan on that subject. " If," said he, when cautioning the absentee in social meetings, " those persons who are in the habit of neglecting their classes only felt what I experienced that night, they would vow, like me, never to do so again." He was a perfect model for others, in his attention to the public, social, and private worship of God ; and as in his class, so among the free sittings in the chapel, he was always to be found in his place, and would have his own seat, with which he was invariably indulged.
One serious inconvenience under which he laboured was his inability to read. An imperfect knowledge of the letters of the
English alphabet was all he had acquired ; and in the thirtieth year of his age he had to return to childhood, and was seen anxiously pouring over his "Horn Book" and " Tom Thumb," surrounded by his offspring, — looking through these initiatorytrifles to the New Testament, and exulting in the hope of one day reaching the fountain of knowledge, and medium of life. By close application, he was soon able to read the sacred page, both in private and in his family ; and to exclaim — " I esteem the words of thy mouth more than my necessary food. The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul : the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple ; the statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes : the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether, more to be desired than fine gold ; sweeter also than the honey, and the honeycomb." In his first readings, he was like a person entering upon a newly-discovered country ; he sat down by the skirts or seat shore of knowledge ; but on improving, he entered farther and farther into the interior of the land; till at length, on gaining a small eminence, as it were, he saw the truth of God expanding into a greatness beyond the reach of his own sight, while every thing seemed written as with a sun-beam. The opaque medium was changed for the transparent ; and he beheld with awe, surprise, and admiration the wonders of God's law. The Bible was to him not only a " light to the feet and a lamp to the path," but a kind of sacred Nepenthe, in every moment of discouragement. There he found recipes, to employ the language of the medical student, which proved a cordial to his spirits, and imparted vigour to his arm. " I was born twice," he would say ; " once at Newcastle, and another time at Carville. At my second birth, I was as unable to read as at my first ; but now, I can not only read my Bible, but my title to heaven."
While he was making progress in knowledge and in piety, there remained one afflicting drawback to his happiness. The rifle corps in which he had figured for several years remained in arms upward of twelve months after his conversion ; and various circumstances and arguments concurred to bind him to the band to which he had been linked. It was a season of scruple and tenderness of conscience ; he was not well grounded in religion ; and his experience and knowledge were ill able to meet the sophisms, temptations, and bufTetings, with which he was assailed. The tambarine in the same hand, before and after conversion, seemed altogether another thing; and the eye of the public, as quick to perceive as to associate, was upon him for evil, as it had been upon him for good. The tambarine had been his idol, and he himself had been the idol of the multitude. Of that idol he was obliged to maintain his hold, when idolatry had ceased ; and in the act of handling it, he was not less " ashamed" than the artificer in iron would have been, on receiving a visit from the Prophet Isaiah, while forging idols in his smithy, after his enlightenment, and of whom it is said, " the smith with the tongs both worketh in the coals, and fashioneth it with hammers, and worketh it with the strength of his arms." Poor Crister had to work on, and to throw around his arms, for the entertainment of others, while the spirit of his employment was entombed within him. It was not like the graver evolution of the regular soldier, or even the more sober and stately march of a person with the bassoon, or of persons with any other dozen of instruments ; but the only article in the band that required a harlequin for its management, and in the hand of one who had once been a master, as he had now become a slave. He sighed, he groaned, he prayed, he watched, he blushed, till the dissolution of the corps, when he flew off like a bird escaped from the falcon, or an eagle — on being renewed in strength, toward the sun. Though the divine Being, in his own language — and to keep up the allusion with regard to prophetic times, " created the smith that bloweth the coals in the fire, and that bringeth forth an instrument for his work;" yet he
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