Chapter XIX
Death of the Hon. Henry Hastings--Lady Huntingdon’s exertions at Brighton--Joseph Wall--Mr. Whitefield’s First Visit to Brighton--Lady Huntingdon sells her Jewels--The Chapel opened by Mr. Madan--Mr. Romaine--Oathall--Captain Scott--Anecdotes--Old Abraham--Letters from Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Romaine--Christian Perfection--Mr. Maxfield and Mr. Bell--Letter from Mr. Romaine--Mr. Madan--Letters from Messrs. Berridge, Romaine, and Venn--Mr. Jones (of St. Saviour’s).
The Hon. Henry Hastings, fourth son of the Countess of Huntingdon, was born December 12, 1739, and departed this life at Brighton, September 13, 1757, aged eighteen. The only record of this event is found in the following extract from a letter of Mr. Whitefield to Lady Huntingdon:--
“I burnt, but I believe I shall never forget the contents of your Ladyship’s letter. Who but the Redeemer himself can possibly describe the yearnings of such a tender parent’s heart? Surely your Ladyship is called to cut off a right hand and pluck out a right eye; ‘but it is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good.’ This was the language of Eli, whose sons were sinners before the Lord exceedingly. This hath often been the case with the best of people and the greatest favourites of heaven; but none know the bitterness of such a cup but those who are called to drink it. If not sweetened with a sense of the love and mercy of God in Christ, who could abide it? O! what physic, what strong physic, do our strong affections oblige our Heavenly Father to give us! What pruning knives do these luxuriant branches require, in order to preserve the fruit and delicacy of the vine! Blessed be God, there is a time coming when these mysterious, dignified providences shall be explained. I am glad Mr. L. is with your Ladyship; he has a friendly heart. May the Lord Jesus raise up your Ladyship many comforters! Above all, may he come himself. He will--he will! O! that I could bear your heavy load! But I can only, in my feeble way, bear it on my heart, before Him who came to heal our sicknesses and bear our infirmities. That your Ladyship may come out of these fiery trials, purged and purified like the brightest gold, is the earnest prayer of, ever honoured Madam, your most dutiful, obliged, sympathizing, and ever ready servant for Christ’s sake,
“G. WHITEFIELD.”
The illness of her son had brought the Countess from her house in Park-street to Brighton, where, during her stay, she felt seriously concerned for the spiritual interests of its inhabitants, and especially for the company that frequented that place of fashionable resort, and used her utmost exertions to bestow upon them some spiritual gift, by carrying to the houses of the nobility and the poor the welcome tidings of salvation through faith in a crucified Redeemer.
In the course of her ever-frequent visits of mercy and benevolence at Brighton, she entered the lodgings of a soldier’s wife who had been delivered of twins; and having first relieved the temporal wants of the poor woman, conversed with her on spiritual subjects, affectionately pointing her to the Fountain of atoning blood opened in the clefts of the “Rock of Ages.” In the performance of this duty, her Ladyship displayed an admirable mixture of discretion and zeal, solemnity and sweetness; and no sooner did she begin to speak of her awful state, by nature and by practice, and the imminent danger of her soul, if she died unpardoned, unrenewed, unwashed in the Saviour’s blood, than the poor soldier’s wife burst into a flood of tears under a sense of her guilt and misery, and began to call on the Lord with all the earnestness of which her dying frame was capable; and manifesting an anxious desire to hear more of that precious salvation which is provided for the guilty and the lost, she induced the Countess to repeat her visits. The apartment was contiguous to a public bakehouse, and the people that came to the oven heard, through a crack in the partition, her Ladyship conversing on spiritual subjects. This soon became noised abroad, and other poor women, feeling a desire to hear such things, attended at the lodgings of the soldier’s wife at appointed times for that purpose. Her usual method was to converse with them about the one thing needful, to read and expound the Scriptures, and to pray with them. In a little time the number of her hearers increased, and as often as they could be collected she joyfully proclaimed to them the unsearchable riches of Christ. The affectionate and fervent manner in which she addressed them was an affecting proof of the interest she took in their spiritual concerns. There was an energy in her manner that was irresistible. Her subject--her language--her gestures--the tone of her voice--and the turn of her countenance, all conspired to fix the attention and affect the heart.
On one of these occasions, a blacksmith, named Joseph Wall, a man notorious for his profligacy, having been directed to the place of meeting, obtained admittance, though none but females had hitherto attended. Lady Huntingdon coming in, felt much surprise at seeing him in a corner of the room, and hesitated in her mind whether to request him to withdraw, or to refrain from speaking to him. At length she determined to take no notice of him, and to proceed in her usual course (which she considered was the path of duty), by praying with these poor women, and setting before them the “things which accompany salvation.” The word thus spoken was applied by the power of the Holy Spirit to the heart of Joseph Wall, and from that time he became a distinguished monument of the power of divine grace, so that all who knew him were constrained to acknowledge the marvellous change. For a period of twenty-nine years he adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour by a life of holiness, and through every period of his religious life appeared as a pilgrim and stranger in the world. He told a friend, a day or two before his departure for glory, “that he longed to be dissolved, that he was very happy, had not a doubt of his salvation, and would not change his state with the king.” About two hours before he expired, every breath appearing as though it would be the last, his lips were observed to move, and his anxious and affectionate daughter, bending her head, heard him slowly but distinctly utter--“Come, Lord Jesus! come quickly!” The Great Shepherd of the people heard and answered his prayer, and took him to the heavenly fold the latter end of June, 1786.
While the Countess was thus usefully and actively engaged, a gentlewoman, who lived in the vicinity of Brighton, dreamed that a tall lady, whose dress she particularly noticed, would come to that town, and be the means of doing much good. It was about three years after this dream that Lady Huntingdon went down thither. One day the above person met her Ladyship in the street, and on seeing her exclaimed, “O, Madam, you are come!” Lady Huntingdon, surprised at the singularity of such an address from an entire stranger, thought at first the woman was deranged. “What do you know of me?” asked the Countess. “Madam (replied the person), I saw you in a dream three years ago, dressed just as you appear now;” and related the whole of the dream to her. In consequence of the acquaintance which was then formed between them, Lady Huntingdon was made instrumental in her conversion, and she died about a year afterwards in the confidence of faith.
It was thus that her zeal and piety prepared the way for the more public ministrations of Mr. Whitefield, who visited Brighton in the year 1759, and at first preached under a tree in a field behind the White Lion Inn.[168]
The awakened people began to increase in numbers, and a small Christian society was afterwards established, whose members met for prayer and praise, and the reading of the Scriptures. This promising state of things induced Lady Huntingdon to erect a small but neat chapel contiguous to her house, on the site of the present one in North-street, the expense of which she either wholly, or in part, defrayed by the sale of her jewels, to the amount of six hundred and ninety-eight pounds fifteen shillings.[169]
The chapel was opened in the summer of 1761, by the Rev. Martin Madan. To Mr. Madan succeeded Messrs. Romaine, Berridge, Venn, and Fletcher, who severally took the charge of a congregation and people for whom they soon learned to cultivate the sincerest affection. Instant in season and out of season, these apostolic men diligently performed the work of evangelists, and lost no opportunity of proclaiming the unsearchable riches of Christ. Here, as in other places, they laboured together for the welfare of the Church of God; and as they worshipped often together in the courts below, they are now doubtless worshipping in the courts above, and enjoying the felicity of those, “who, having turned many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars for ever and ever.”
No sooner had these apostolic men unfolded the standard of the true cross, than a violent clamour was raised against them and their doctrines, and frequent attempts were made to intimidate them from preaching and teaching Jesus Christ. But, regardless of the torrents of reproach which were continually rolling on them from every quarter, they prosecuted their labours in the most undaunted manner; and the Great Head of the Church bore testimony to the words of his servants, and confirmed it by awakening and converting many souls under their ministry. If God will work, none can let it; the cause is his, and he must and will conquer; and any instrument is sufficient, though it were but the jaw-bone of an ass, when the Spirit of the Lord comes upon the appointed Samson.
The connexion of Mr. Romaine with the Countess of Huntingdon, as her chaplain, exhibits the interesting picture of two characters of exalted excellence striving together for the hope of the Gospel--the one by her influence and wealth, the other by his zeal and diligence. And, to the honour of Mr. Romaine, his long and active labours were without the least expectation of any remuneration; and all he ever got from Lady Huntingdon barely paid his journeys and his expenses. Notwithstanding the basest stories, neither he nor Mr. Whitefield were ever a shoe-latchet the richer for any service done her Ladyship. Not that this is meant to impeach her boundless liberality: never perhaps did mortal make a nobler use of what she possessed: her time, her talents, her soul and body were consecrated to God. She knew that it was laudable to feed the hungry and clothe the naked: but all inferior considerations seemed to be lost in her superior concern for the everlasting happiness of perishing mortals.
“Never (says the late Rev. John Eyre, one of her senior ministers) shall I lose the strong impression which was made on my mind in a conversation I had with her about the wants of a family who appeared to be in great distress:--‘I can do for them (said she) but very little. I am obliged to be a spectator of miseries which I pity, but cannot relieve. For when I gave myself up to the Lord, I likewise devoted to him all my fortune; with this reserve, that I would take with a sparing hand what might be necessary for my food and raiment, and for the support of my children, should they live to be reduced. I was led to this (continued she) from a consideration, that there were many benevolent persons who had no religion, who would feel for the temporal miseries of others, and help them; but few, even among professors, who had a proper concern for the awful condition of ignorant and perishing souls. What, therefore, I can save for a while out of my own necessaries, I will give them; but more I dare not take without being guilty of sacrilege.’”
The value of such a life can never be ascertained till the heavens and the earth be no more. And then, when temporal happiness and misery shall have vanished like the illusion of a dream, thousands and tens of thousands will be thankful that she lived so long the faithful servant of God, and the happy instrument of their conversion. All could see her zeal and her devotion, but herself. The Churches of Christ honoured her as the chief of saints, but she always confessed herself to be the chief of sinners. Her life was a better comment than all that was ever written by expositors on those words of Christ, “Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, that when ye fail they may receive you into everlasting habitations.” What an innumerable multitude, who had never seen her face in the flesh, were waiting with rapture to receive her happy spirit into mansions of everlasting glory!
Another house of prayer was the next work of her Ladyship’s hands. An old gentleman of the name of Warden, a justice of the peace for the county of Sussex, a man well known, then occupied the mansion of Oathall, which had formerly belonged to a branch of the house of Shirley,[170] from which her Ladyship descended. Hearing of her wish to carry the Gospel into the wilds of Sussex, he waited on her at Brighton, and offered to let her the house for a term of years for the very purpose she meditated. The agreement was immediately adjusted, she entered upon the premises--fitted up a large hall for the chapel, and furnished the upper rooms for her own residence, and for the ministers she brought with her. There, Messrs. Romaine, Venn, Madan, Berridge, Shirley, Townsend, Toplady, and Haweis, with many others, yielded their services, and there were they blessed with some singular tokens of divine favour, among a people in whom much of the simplicity of the Gospel was apparent.
Captain Scott, son of Richard Scott, Esq., of Betton, in the county of Salop, an ancient and highly respectable family, having received a polite education, embraced the profession of arms in his seventeenth year. He began his military career as cornet, and was promoted to the rank of Captain in the 7th regiment of Dragoons. He was present at the famous battle fought near Minden, on the 1st of August, 1759, attached to the cavalry of the right wing, commanded by Lord George Sackville.
The danger to which, as a soldier, he was exposed, was seriously impressed upon his mind. This led to a train of thought and a succession of resolutions, which appear to have been preparatory to his acquiring self-knowledge, to his reception of the Gospel, and which eventually led to the conversion of his soul.
It was daily his practice (though felt as a toilsome duty) to read the psalms and lessons of the day--a practice well known to his brother officers: but as his conduct in other respects conformed to theirs, they gave him no opposition, but were used pleasantly to ask him, “Well, Scott, have you read your psalms and lessons to-day?” But while he continued to strive to make himself righteous by his own works, he necessarily laboured in vain. Happening to be quartered somewhere in the neighbourhood of Oathall, and being out on a shooting party, he was driven by a storm for cover to the house of a farmer, with whom some horses of the regiment were at grass. There he found several labourers, who had taken shelter in the same cottage. The farmer being a pious man, and Captain Scott happening at this time to be in one of his “religious fits,” as he was accustomed to call his periods of good resolution, he entered into conversation, and heard him speak on divine subjects in a way that astonished him. This naturally produced the enquiry, where they had collected their information and the sentiments they expressed. They told him at the hall yonder, where there was now a very famous man, a Mr. Romaine, preaching for Lady Huntingdon, and they importunately invited him to come and hear for himself. This he determined to do the following Sunday. Thither he accordingly repaired, and he was particularly struck with the neatness and solemnity which pervaded the congregation, as well as with the impressive manner in which the service was conducted. Mr. Romaine preached on our Lord’s words, in John xiv. 6--“I am the way.” The truth then delivered was exactly suited to the case of Captain Scott; and God, who, in his good providence, had brought him to hear it, by the power of his grace made it effectual to the everlasting benefit of his soul. From that time the happy change commenced for which hundreds have since had reason to bless God, who have been called under his ministry.
He continued a soldier, but his altered conduct exposed him to many annoyances in the army; and as he was marching through Leicester with his regiment, he opened his commission as a minister of the Lord Jesus Christ. A pious person, to whom he was introduced, having, probably, been informed of his usefulness in holding meetings with some of the men in his regiment, put him into a parlour, and left him with no other company but a Bible, a hymn-book, and his God, telling him that he must preach there that evening. He complied with the earnest request, and thus entered into that work to which the Great Head of the Church had chosen him, and in which he honoured him with abundant success.
Having put his hand to the plough, he never turned back, but preached in his regimentals wherever he was stationed. Mr. Fletcher, in a letter to Lady Huntingdon, says--
“I went last Monday to meet Captain Scott, one of the first-fruits that have grown for the Lord at Oathall--a captain of the truth--a bold soldier of Jesus Christ. God hath thrown down before him the middle wall of bigotry, and he boldly launches into an irregular usefulness. For some months he has exhorted his dragoons daily; for some weeks he hath preached publicly at Leicester, in the Methodist meeting-house, in his regimentals, to numerous congregations, with good success. The stiff regular ones pursue him with hue and cry, but I believe he is quite beyond their reach. God keep him zealous and simple! I believe this red-coat will shame many a black one. I am sure he shames me.”
In a subsequent letter he adds:--
“Captain Scott set out last Monday for York, after making a great stir for good in Shrewsbury--he hath been a prophet to several in his own country.”
Mr. Whitefield gave some account of him in the Tabernacle pulpit, and said--
“I have invited the Captain to come to London, and bring his artillery to Tabernacle-rampart, and try what execution he can do here.”
He was one of the supplies there for upwards of twenty years; and, it should be noticed, to the praise of Mr. Romaine’s liberality, that he not only gave him encouragement to preach, but was particularly active in bringing him to that place. A tremendous storm of thunder and lightning, which took place as he was entering London, was construed by him as a probable indication of the divine displeasure, and caused him to fear that the case of the old prophet misleading the young one was exemplified in his present circumstance. He, however, persevered, and came to the Tabernacle, where an immense congregation was assembled to hear him; but when the season for addressing them arrived, he was absorbed in tears, and his utterance completely failed him; at length he became composed, and was enabled to deliver his message in a manner that laid the foundation of his future popularity in London.
After a while, Captain Scott sold his commission, and quitted the army for the ministry of the Gospel; and thus ended all the brilliant views of military rank and fame to which, had he continued in the army, he might have aspired. He was well qualified for a military command. His mind was fertile, his apprehension quick, his utterance ready, and his fortitude great. The way to worldly honour was open before him. He had a prospect of obtaining what was once the object of his highest ambition; but the great Sovereign of the world and the Church had destined him to more important services and higher honours than any that mere military heroes can ever perform or attain.
Another fruit of the ministry of her Ladyship’s chaplains at Oathall was an old man, called Abraham. He was born in Sussex; being an idle youth, he enlisted for a soldier, and after fifty years’ service, obtained his discharge, and with his wife settled near Oathall. He grew serious, sought after truth, attended at church, and, not quite satisfied with what he heard at home, went round to the neighbouring churches; but what he heard seemed very unsatisfactory and contradictory to what the Church prayers he read seemed to speak. Uncertain what was truth, he roamed about, till providentially the chapel opened by Lady Huntingdon at Oathall awakened attention; and though he did not like the Methodists, he resolved for once to go and hear. He was then just a hundred years old, but still hearty, and in the perfect use of his faculties. Mr. Venn was at that time with Lady Huntingdon, and preached at Oathall the morning old Abraham attended. The truth struck his mind with an evidence and power he had never before felt. He listened with the deepest attention and delight--he could hardly contain himself; and as soon as the service was ended, he laid his hand upon the shoulder of a neighbour who was next him, “Ah! (says he) neighbour, this is the very truth of God’s word which I have been seeking, and never heard it so plain before. Here will I abide.”
From that day his conversation bespoke the blessed Spirit he had received. He spoke of that day as the day of his birth, and used to say that he was a child born at a hundred years old. He attended all the ministers whom Lady Huntingdon sent, and continued to make happy advances in knowledge and experience. His age and white head made him very distinguished, and his conversation rendered him very precious to all the serious persons round the neighbourhood.
One day Lady Huntingdon was talking with him, and he was giving an account of his little trials to her:--“Ah, my Lady (says he), ’tis my grief that my old partner is a little too apt to run ahead sometimes: but I will tell ye what happened the other day--when that remarkable darkness and tempest came over us here, she was terribly frightened, and thought it was the day of judgment, and in she ran with an old gossip of hers, who was of her mind and against me, and down they fell upon their knees upon the floor, and said ‘Abraham, come and pray for us.’ So said I, ‘What is the matter, dame?’ ‘O (said she), it is the day of judgment! it is the day of judgment! Ar’n’t you afraid?’ ‘Afraid! no (said I); what should I be afraid of? If it is the day of judgment, then I shall see Christ Jesus my Lord, and that will be a joyful sight.’ So, my Lady, I began to sing a hymn. By and by the storm was over, and then they both forgot the fright it had put them in.” He died in the 106th year of his age, persevering in the Christian walk, and adorning the doctrine of our Saviour in all things; and, as a ripe sheaf in the day of harvest, was gathered into the bosom of our Saviour in peace by a gentle dissolution, old and full of days.
The summer of 1762 Lady Huntingdon spent principally in Yorkshire, where her active spirit was engaged in forming fresh plans for erecting the standard of Immanuel “amongst the thickest ranks of his enemies.” The “little cloud” at Brighton, which at the first was “no bigger than a man’s hand,” had gradually increased, and diffused such a copious shower of blessings as fertilized the hearts of many in that part of the vineyard. Anxious that the progress of the Gospel should still continue to increase--that the banner of redeeming love should be unfurled wider, and the sound of the Gospel trumpet wax louder and louder in that favoured place, she continued her exertions in procuring suitable supplies, and sought the aid of those apostolic labourers who were fired with zeal for their Master’s honour, to convey this best of blessings to the many yet enveloped in the shades of ignorance and perishing for lack of knowledge.
Mr. Fletcher was obliged to decline her Ladyship’s invitation, as will be seen by the following extract from a letter dated Madely, 26th July, 1762, and addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon, Knaresborough, Yorkshire. “I humbly thank you for your obliging invitation to wait for your Ladyship at Brighthelmstone. It was the more welcome, as it hath removed the fear I had that my wish was presumptuous. Hitherto I have been closely tied to my parish: no clergyman chose to have any intercourse with me, and I have not yet preached out of my church. Of late, blessed be the precious name of Jesus for it, the work deepens in the hearts of those that have been convinced, and I begin not to be at a loss for the company of some sincere fellow-travellers to our Jerusalem above. One is now entering that glorious city through the gate of death, with the steadiness of faith and the joy of hope which attended dear Mr. Jones[171] in his last moments. May our latter end be like theirs!”
Mr. Romaine says--
“I have so managed my matters as to be able to set out for Brighthelmstone on Monday morning next: and, God willing, shall stay there till Michaelmas. O! join your prayers with ours, that the Lord of the harvest would be with us, and bless our labours in this part of his harvest-field. By all accounts, the desires of the people are very pressing for my coming down to help them, which I hope is of the Lord’s doing, and is a good token for us. But be that as it will, it is ours to sow the seed--to rain and shine upon it, and to give the increase, is God’s part. To him we must leave it.
“I should be glad to hear from your Ladyship about any part of my work in Brighthelmstone, and anything you would have me to do relating to your house or affairs while I am there. It would be a pleasure to me to hear from you. I am, with my wishes for yours and Lady Selina’s health, your faithful friend and servant for the Lord’s sake,
“August 21, 1762. “W. ROMAINE.”
“I breakfasted this morning with Sir Charles Hotham, who is, I think, in good spirits, and all his friends.”
About this time Mr. Wesley’s doctrine of the perfection of the Christian character was taken up and carried to extravagant enthusiasm by several ministers, of whom Mr. Fletcher speaks in the following extract:--
“I have a particular regard for Maxfield and Bell; both of them are my correspondents, I am strongly prejudiced in favour of the witnesses, and do not willingly receive what is said against them; but allowing that what is reported is one half mere exaggeration, the tenth part of the rest shows that spiritual pride, presumption, arrogance, stubbornness, party spirit, uncharitableness, prophetic mistakes--in short, that every sinew of enthusiasm is now at work in many of that body. I do not credit any one’s bare word, but I ground my sentiments on Bell’s own letters.
“May I presume, unasked, to lay before you my mite of observation? If I had it in my power to overlook the matter, as you have, would it be wrong in me calmly to sit down with some unprejudiced friends and lovers of both parties, and fix with them the marks and symptoms of enthusiasm; then insist, at first in love, and afterwards, if necessary, with all the weight of my authority, upon those who have them, or plead for them, either to stand to the sober rule of Christianity, or openly to depart from us?”
Matters every day became more desperate; and when Mr. Maxfield was excluded from preaching in the chapels of Mr. Wesley, he took one for himself, and drew away several hundreds of the society. The conduct of George Bell and his followers drew great odium on the whole body of the Methodists. Their wildness and enthusiasm daily increasing, Lady Huntingdon hastened to London, to endeavour to stop the plague by every means in her power.
Her Ladyship had frequent opportunities of speaking to Mr. Maxfield and others: and her conversation seems to have had some effect upon that gentleman, for from that time he became more settled and more Calvinistic in his sentiments. Soon after the change in his opinions, he published an answer to Mr. Wesley’s Narrative, which Mr. Wesley was far from approving. “It was (says he) at the pressing instances of Mr. Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon that he wrote that wretched book against me.” Mr. Fletcher did not consider it a wretched performance, for, after a critical examination of it, he says--
“Mr. Maxfield’s reply to Mr. Wesley’s answer seems to me just in some points, and in others too severe. Mr. Wesley is, perhaps, too tenacious of some expressions, and too prone to credit what he wishes concerning some mistaken witnesses of the state of fathers in Christ. Mr. Maxfield, perhaps, esteems too little the inestimable privilege of being perfected in that love which casts out fear. But, in general, I conceive, if I do not presume of myself in answering your question, that it would be better for babes, or young men in Christ, to cry for a growth in grace, than to dispute whether fathers in Christ enjoy such or such privileges.”
Mr. Romaine’s visit to Brighton, and the effects of his ministry, were peculiarly useful at this time, for some of these enthusiastic notions on the doctrine of perfection, which had caused such mischief in London, had crept amongst the society there, and threatened to disturb the peace and tranquillity of the Church of Christ in that place. Mr. Romaine’s letter to Lady Huntingdon, dated Lambeth, Nov. 11th, 1762, details the particulars of what occurred on this occasion:--
“Madam--As you have got Mr. Madan down with you, I hope the Lord Christ will make his ministry useful, and that his stay may be as long as he chooses. I will undertake for any duty at the Lock, or for all the duty, if he would let Mr. Haweis go his intended journey. Although this be inconvenient for me, yet I don’t mind that. I find my heart very closely knit to the little church at Brighthelmstone, and would do anything to promote their true happiness. My love to them would turn inconvenience into a pleasure. Since I came to town several things have happened to make the people more dear to me than when I was among them. I find they are not to live long in peace--they are going on too well to meet with no disturbance. The enemy has begun to attack them, and has in part succeeded. He sees how safe they are while they make Jesus all their salvation and all their hope--and how happy while they live wholly by faith upon him; and this vexes old Satan. Since he cannot dethrone our exalted Head in heaven, he shows his malice against his members upon earth. The temptation with which, at this day, he disturbs them, is to hinder them from living upon Christ, as poor, needy, helpless sinners, and from finding by faith all they want in his fulness. This exalts the Saviour too much, and makes them too safe and happy; therefore Satan would persuade them to get riches, strength, and a clean heart, quite without sin in themselves; so that then they may look inward with complacency and delight, and look outwards on others of supposed smaller attainments with a ‘STAND BY--I AM HOLIER THAN THOU,’ and look upwards with a ‘God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are.’ Thus you see pride enters in, and Christ is thrust out.”
Mr. Madan appears to have remained at Brighton nearly three months, with much utility to the cause of God in that town. Desirous of supplying his place with the services of some able minister, her Ladyship wrote to Mr. Berridge, Mr. Romaine, and Mr. Venn, inviting them to Brighton, to proclaim the “unsearchable riches of Christ” to a rapidly increasing congregation.
Mr. Berridge says, in a letter dated Everton, Nov. 16, 1762--
“I cannot see my call to Brighthelmstone; and I ought to see it for myself, not another for me. Was any good done when I was there? It was God’s doing: all the glory be to him. This shows I did not then go without my Master, but it is no proof of a second call. Many single calls have I had to villages, when some good was done, but no further call. I am not well able to ride so long a journey, and my heart is utterly set against wheel-carriages in these roads. Indeed, I see not my call--I cannot think of the journey; and therefore pray your Ladyship to think no more of it. I write thus plainly, not out of forwardness I trust, but to save your Ladyship the trouble of sending a second request, and myself the pain of returning a second denial. You threaten me, Madam, like a pope, not like a mother in Israel, when you declare roundly that God will scourge me if I do not come: but I know your Ladyship’s good meaning, and this menace was not despised. It made me slow in resolving, and of course slow in writing; it made me also attend to the state of my own mind during its deliberation, which was as follows:--Whilst I was looking towards the sea, partly drawn thither with the hope of doing good, and partly driven by your Vatican Bull, I found nothing but thorns in my way; but as soon as I turned my eyes from it, I found peace; and now, whilst I am sending a peremptory denial, I feel no check or reproof within, which I generally do when I am not willing to go about my Master’s business.”
Mr. Venn observes, in a letter dated Huddersfield, December 10, 1762--
“In March or April I may be able to visit you and give you some little assistance. I do love to minister to the dear flock at Brighton; and, in order to do this, may the Spirit of God open the eyes of my understanding more and more to see my need of a Saviour, and to behold the suitableness, the freeness, and fulness of redemption, which was wrought out by the Lord of Life and Glory. O help me with your prayers, for truly I need them. I thank you ten thousand times for all your repeated marks of love and generosity to me and mine. Continue to pray for me, and the Lord will return it to you sevenfold.”
Mr. Romaine says, under date of Lambeth, Dec. 28, 1762--
“Dear Madam--I have received the enclosed in a letter from Mr. Grimshaw, and being engaged to preach on Saturday evening at the Lock, I could not send it till this day’s post. My heart and my prayers are with you; but the Lord does not make a way for me to visit you. To him I submit in this (although it be a great self-denial), as well as in other things. His will is always good, and it is always good for us to be resigned to it; but when the Spirit is willing, the flesh is often weak; therefore the Lord repeats lesson upon lesson, line upon line, to teach us to submit to his blessed and holy will. I am a poor dull scholar, but he is a kind Master, and through him I get on, though halting and slowly. Such am I, and such is he, that I can be telling of nothing else but of his salvation all the day long.
“I cannot forget the dear little church. I think they must be better for my fervent prayers. The Lord Christ keep them all, and add to their number. I hear Bateman has left you, but I have not seen her. This life itself is changing, and therefore we need not wonder all things in it change. But Jesus is the same--He changeth not; and the happiness derived from Him is the only unchanging happiness. May this be your portion and mine! More we cannot ask, more we cannot have. I am, with great respect, for the Lord’s sake, your servant.”
On the departure of Mr. Madan for London, his place was supplied by Mr. Fletcher, who continued some weeks at Brighton, and was succeeded by Mr. Howel Davies. The labours of these excellent men contributed, with the divine blessing, to the restoration of peace and the healing of those divisions which had caused Lady Huntingdon and her friends so much uneasiness and anxiety. By the recent death of Mr. Jones, of St. Saviour’s, she was deprived of a valuable and useful auxiliary in the great work in which she was engaged. He had often preached at her Ladyship’s in London, and she had calculated on his services at Brighton and Oathall. His first awakening was by the gradual working of the law upon his conscience; and his inward convictions of sin, wrought by the Spirit of God, were very deep and distressing. While under this concern Lady Huntingdon’s acquaintance with him first began; and her great intimacy and friendship gave her a constant opportunity of being a witness of God’s gracious dealings with his soul. He was greatly strengthened and established in the faith of the Gospel by her Ladyship’s advice and conversation. He had great gifts and great grace; and he needed both for the work to which Providence called him. His sweetness of natural temper, eminently great as it was, would never have supported him under the numberless insults he met with, had it not been strengthened, as well as adorned, by a sublimer influence. It was this, and only this, which enabled him to overcome evil with good, as well as to have, not the form only, but the power of godliness.
“Dear Mr. Jones (observes her Ladyship) lived happily and died rejoicing. He was long the subject of affliction, and often at death’s door; but he was refined in the furnace of affliction, and his growth in grace and knowledge of the Saviour great and remarkable. My foolish heart fondly looked to his ministerial labours at Brighton; but our glorious Head has frustrated my views in this, as well as in many other ways, to humble me, and teach me to look more constantly to Him who doeth what seemeth him best.”
Mr. Jones exchanged this lower world of sin and sorrow for the pure unmixed joys of God’s eternal kingdom above on the 6th of June, 1762, in the thirty-third year of his age.
Chapter XX
Dr. Haweis--Mr. Romaine driven from the Chapel of the Broadway--Lord Dartmouth--Letters from Messrs. Romaine and Conyers--Sinless Perfection--Letters from Messrs. Romaine and Wesley--Erasmus, Bishop of Arcadia--Mr. Toplady--Letters from Messrs. Fletcher and Berridge--Death of Lady Selina Hastings--Colonel Hastings--Account of Lady Selina’s Death--Letters from Lord Dartmouth--Mr. Venn--Mr. Fletcher--Mr. Berridge--Oathall Chapel--Letters from Mr. Berridge--Mr. Venn’s Complete Duty of Man--Letters from Messrs. Venn and Berridge.
Dr. Haweis was now preaching at the Lock, but the chapel in Broadway, Westminster, becoming vacant by the death of Mr. Briant, the widow proposed to let it to the Doctor, who applied to the Dean of Westminster, then Bishop of Rochester, of which see the chapel was a peculiar, for a licence. This modest application was ungraciously refused. In vain did Dr. Haweis remonstrate; he had been oppressively driven from Oxford, and had preached at the Lock Hospital. These were his crimes, and an abuse of authority was thought justifiable, in order to crush him. Happily these repeated insults moved him not one jot from the line chalked out for him, nor did he cease to proclaim the glory of that God and Saviour in whom he trusted.
Dr. Haweis withdrew from the contest, but Mr. Romaine, who had already a licence to preach in the diocese of London, opened the chapel, and preached with wonderful effect from that pulpit; but before one year expired the Bishop’s mandate compelled him to desist, under fears of the terrors of the spiritual court, and to leave the congregation he had with care collected. These able men were thus denied a privilege which the most ignorant curate in the kingdom might have enjoyed. And why? Because they had dared to preach the Gospel, and had offended thereby those in authority, who loved darkness rather than light. Lord Dartmouth offered Mr. Romaine a living in the country, and Mr. Whitefield invited him first, and Dr. Haweis afterwards, to settle at the great church in Philadelphia; but both had reasons for maintaining their stand, and rearing the cross on the mount of the Lord’s house. Mr. Romaine especially felt himself bound, like Cocles, to keep the pass against Porsenna and his forces; yea, and if the bridge fell, to leap into the Tiber.
Mr. Romaine wished to assist Lady Huntingdon, and would have succeeded Mr. Howel Davies at Brighton, but Mr. Madan being refused admission to his pulpit, and Dr. Haweis being still without a licence, he could not conveniently leave London. Mr. Downing, who had been with Mr. Romaine in town, had departed at the very time when Mr. Davies left her Ladyship at Brighton; and Mr. Tilney, like the Doctor, was without a licence. To this effect he wrote to Lady Huntingdon, under date of the 5th of February, 1763, from Lambeth; we shall not repeat that part of the letter of which we have just given the substance; but the following interesting extract may be acceptable:--
“Our kind love and continual good wishes to Lady Huntingdon. It would be a great blessing if the Head of the Church should have more places open to sound his fame and praise in your neighbourhood; and if he has such a gracious design, there shall not be wanting heralds to proclaim his style and titles. Get churches, and you won’t want ministers. For my part, I am quite fixed, and every day more so, in my present work. I am called to it, and commanded therein to abide with God. People say to me, you might be more useful here--or, what a great deal of good you might do there. Alas! they know me not. What can I do? Just nothing, except it be marring and spoiling all that I take in hand: and I do it so entirely, that I want to hide my face for shame. I don’t know that I ever got up to open my mouth in public, but my heart smites me; and I am distressed beyond measure, both with the sorry stuff I utter, and also with the wretched manner of doing it. Such a very fool surely was never set up for a preacher. Yea, at times I am so broken down with the utter abhorrence I have of mine own ministry, that I could go and live in the country with my mother, and seal up my mouth. But then my dear tender Master gives me a cordial, and tells me ’tis good for me to be kept thus low, and his own glory shall not be hurt by it. The poorness of the minister shall not make the Gospel of none effect, but out of the mouths of babes and sucklings he will perfect praise. Upon which I begin again to lisp out his praises as well as I can, but at the very best I am ashamed. I have such a view of the person of Christ, and of his offices, and graces, and salvation, that when I attempt to speak of them I know the highest description cannot come up to their true merit and dignity, they being altogether divine and infinite: and then I am quite discouraged, till I recollect that all the tongues in heaven can only show forth half his praise, and therefore I hope he will forgive me my poor thoughts of him, and poor discourses, and poor doings for him. I see I must live upon him in all things, as my Saviour, and then I get well.”
The following is the letter of Dr. Conyers, dated Helmsley, February 8, 1763:--
“Madam--It is with the utmost satisfaction and with the most sincere affection that I now sit down to write to your Ladyship. ’Tis true, I never had the happiness of seeing you, but in the bowels of Jesus Christ do I love you; and it is with the most longing desire that I look forward to that happy, happy time when I trust to be with your Ladyship FOR EVER. O that blessed God! that out of mere free grace has opened my poor blind eyes in some measure to see his exceeding great love in his dear Son. It constrains my heart to love him--it binds my affections to him--and I trust the same grace that laid hold upon me will help me to the end, and preserve me to his heavenly kingdom. When I examine the condition into which sin had brought me, when I look at, one by one, the wants of my soul--my guilt, my filthiness, my weakness, my nakedness, and my utter wretchedness--and then contemplate the graces of the Redeemer as they are held out to me in the Scriptures of truth--when I look at myself, and then at him, O what my heart feels! how I admire! how I adore and love! Now I know, O thou great and holy Lord God, that thou lovest me, seeing thou hast not withheld thy Son, thine only Son, from me. If I judge aright, Madam, I am pouring out my heart to one who is no stranger to the language of Canaan. Your Ladyship is a sinner as well as I. I know you feel it, and therefore will not be angry with me for saying so; and I know that I am now talking with one who will not accuse me of running out too far, as the world calls it, in the great Redeemer’s praises, but who will join with me, nay, far, very far outdo me in love and gratitude, in thankfulness and praise, to that precious Lamb of God who loved us and gave himself for us, that he might make us, miserable worms of the earth, partakers of his own eternity. O thou adorable Lord Jesus! what should we talk of, or think of, or write of, or glory in else, but thy blessed self, who art altogether lovely? What can I do--what can your Ladyship do--what can any one do without him?--and what can they not do that have him? We are complete in him--look by faith to him who hung upon the cross, and every mouth of every enemy is stopped, every accusation is silenced; there is peace without and peace within, and peace with God that passeth understanding. Dear Lady, if we are so happy in his love when we cannot see him, O what shall we be when we are made like him, and shall see him as he is?
“I thank your Ladyship for your kind solicitude for my health. God be praised, it is much better--I can preach again now; and O may I no longer live than I preach and love Jesus Christ! Mr. Bentley has been ill, but is much better; he sends his humblest regards to your Ladyship. The work of God grows here. I beg your Ladyship’s prayers that it may grow more and more; and for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may be preserved from evil spirits and evil men, and from my own exceedingly evil heart.
“O Madam! you know not what need I stand in of your prayers--do let me have the comfort of them--do pray that I may go with you to the kingdom of the dear Lord Jesus. I am, your Ladyship’s most obedient and affectionate servant in our common Lord,
“Helmsley, Feb. 8, 1763. “RICHARD CONYERS.”
With a laudable desire of enlarging the circle of his usefulness, and with a hope that the air of the place might have a beneficial effect on his health, Lady Huntingdon invited Dr. Conyers to Brighton; but he modestly declined her invitation, observing that “the duties of his parish, which was very extensive, demanded all his abilities, all his zeal, and all his strength; and that he was fearful of venturing where so many great and eloquent servants of Christ had so successfully proclaimed his grace and salvation.”[172]
On the subject of these disputes concerning perfection, we append a letter without date--rather a remarkable circumstance for the very regular and generally accurate writer--but it is inscribed in the handwriting of Lady Huntingdon--“Received at Brighthelmstone, March 21, 1763, S. H.,” which is the reason of its postponement to this place:--
“My Lady--For a considerable time I have had it upon my mind to write a few lines to your Ladyship, although I cannot learn that your Ladyship ever enquired whether I was living or dead. By the mercy of God I am still alive, and following the work to which he has called me, although without any help, even in the most trying times, from those I might have expected it from. Their voice seemed to be rather, ‘Down with him--down with him; even to the ground.’ I mean (for I use no ceremony or circumlocution) Mr. Madan, Mr. Haweis, Mr. Berridge, and (I am sorry to say it) Mr. Whitefield. Only Mr. Romaine has shown a truly sympathizing spirit, and acted the part of a brother. I am the more surprised at this, because he owed me nothing, only the love which we all owe one another. He was not my son in the Gospel, neither do I know that he ever received any help through me. So much the more welcome was his kindness now. The Lord repay it sevenfold into his bosom.
“As to the prophecies of these poor wild men, George Bell and half a dozen more, I am not a jot more accountable for them than Mr. Whitefield is, having never countenanced them in any degree, but opposed them from the moment I heard them; neither have these extravagances any foundation in any doctrine which I teach. The loving God with all our heart, soul, and strength, and the loving all men as Christ loved us, is, and ever was, for these thirty years, the sum of what I deliver, as pure religion and undefiled.
“However, if I am bereaved of my children, I am bereaved! The will of the Lord be done!
‘Poor and helpless as I am, Thou dost for my vileness care! Thou hast called me by my name! Thou dost all my burdens bear,’
“Wishing your Ladyship a continual increase of all blessings, I am, my Lady, your Ladyship’s servant for Christ’s sake,
“JOHN WESLEY.”
A letter from Mr. Romaine, dated Lambeth, March 26, 1763 (five days after), appears, in some degree, at variance with that of Mr. Wesley. It runs thus:--
“Madam--Thanks to your Ladyship for your kind remembrance of me in your last. I rejoice in your joy, and am always glad to hear of the prosperity of your family: for yours the dear people are, and are as nearly related as your own children are. They are also to me tied in the best bonds, and what is in my power shall not be wanting for them. I do not despair of seeing them for a few days before the summer.
“Enclosed is poor Mr. John’s (Wesley’s) letter. The contents of it, as far as I am concerned, surprised me: for no one has spoken more freely of what is now passing among the people than myself. Indeed, I have not preached so much as others whose names he mentions, nor could I. My subject is one, and I dare not vary from it. The more I read and preach upon the all-sufficiency of the adorable Jesus, the more I am determined to know nothing but him, and him crucified. But whatever stands in my way of exalting him I would tread upon it as the merest dross and dung. A perfection out of Christ, call it grace, and say it is grace from him, yet with me it is all rank pride and damnable sin. Oh! Madam, we should be careful of his glory, and not give it to another, least of all to ourselves. Depend upon it, man cannot be laid too low, nor Christ set too high. I would, therefore, always aim, as good brother Grimshaw expresses it, to get the old gentleman down, and keep him down: and then Christ reigns like himself, when he is ALL, and man is nothing!
“I pity Mr. John from my heart. His societies are in great confusion; and the point which brought them into the wilderness of rant and madness is still insisted on as much as ever. I fear the end of this delusion. As the late alarming Providence has not had its proper effect, and perfection is still the cry, God will certainly give them up to some more dreadful thing. May their eyes be opened before it be too late!
“I am glad we shall see you so soon. I rejoice for myself; but I fear you will not stay long. Things are not here as at Brighthelmstone. We have many precious souls, but we really want LOVE. The Foundry, the Tabernacle, the Lock, the Meeting, yea, St. Dunstan’s, has each its party, and brotherly love is almost lost in our disputes. Thank God, I am out of them. I wish them all well, and love them all; and where we differ, there is exercise for my charity. But I condemn none that will not subscribe to my creed. By the grace of God I am what I am. My wife joins me in duty and affection to your Ladyship, and we are your faithful servants in our most dear and eternally precious Jesus,
“W. ROMAINE.”
Her Ladyship was recalled from London, after a very short visit, by the melancholy intelligence of the serious illness of Lady Selina Hastings, which obliged her to return to Brighton. The next remarkable incident of her visit to town was the attempt of a person named Erasmus, a Greek bishop, whose see was, according to the Patriarch of Constantinople, Arcadia, in Crete, to introduce himself to her Ladyship. “There is something singular in this man (writes her Ladyship), and it strikes me that he is not altogether what he appears or pretends to be. Mr. Romaine, Mr. Madan, and others, have strong doubts of the reality of his office.” Mr. Wesley, however, was of another opinion, and in opposition to the advice of his brother Charles, and against the opinions of his best friends, obtained orders for some of his lay-preachers from the Bishop of Arcadia. Mr. Jones and Mr. Staniforth (the latter had been a soldier in Flanders) were so ordained, but found their appointment so invidiously regarded that they never exercised their functions. Others coveted the distinction, and obtained of the foreign bishop the laying on of hands without Mr. Wesley’s knowledge, for which contempt of his authority he excluded the so-ordained pastors from his Connexion. Mr. Toplady, who had great doubts concerning the authority of Erasmus, Bishop of Arcadia, wrote against his ordination of ministers of the Church in England, and his objections were, with Mr. Wesley’s privity, replied to by Mr. Thomas Olivers. Mr. Wesley was accused of a breach of the oath of supremacy, by thus availing himself of the powers of a foreign prelate; and he was further charged with having pressed the bishop to consecrate him, Mr. Wesley himself, a bishop, that he might have power to ordain whomsoever he would. The former charge was denied by Mr. Olivers, and the latter justified, on the ground that the inward call of Mr. Wesley and his followers being manifest, they naturally desired the outward call also. This being refused them by the English bishops, justified them, it was believed, in seeking it wheresoever they pleased.
The Countess, on her return to Brighton, proceeded immediately to Oathall, and there, on the 12th May, 1763, was visited with the severest domestic calamity--the loss of her affectionate and amiable daughter, Lady Selina Hastings, whose unwearied attentions, kindness, and affection, had been long a source of comfort to the Countess, amidst the many trials with which she was surrounded. A heavier infliction could not have been laid upon her. Lady Selina had been ill sixteen days, having been seized on the 26th of April. She was the youngest of seven children, four sons and three daughters, and was born Dec. 3, 1737. Her Ladyship was one of six Earls’ daughters who assisted the Princess Augusta in supporting the train of Queen Charlotte, at her coronation, on the 22nd Sept., 1761. She was to have been married, with the consent of the Countess her mother, and her brother, Francis, Earl of Huntingdon, to her relative, Colonel George Hastings, son of Henry, Lord Hastings, as he was called by courtesy, on account of his affinity to the then bachelor Earl. The Colonel was two years older than Lady Selina, and had been educated at the expense of her father, Theophilus,[173] with her brother Francis. He married (after the death of Lady Selina) Sarah, daughter of Colonel Thomas Hodges, and died in 1802, leaving three sons, two of whom died unmarried, and the third was Hans Francis, twelfth Earl of Huntingdon, and father of the present Earl.
The following interesting account of the illness and death of Lady Selina Hastings was drawn up by the good Countess herself, and it affords an affecting evidence of her piety and resignation:--
“It pleased our dear God and only Saviour to take from me, May 12, 1763, at three quarters after four in the morning, my dearest, my altogether lovely child and daughter, Lady Selina Hastings, the desire of my eyes and continual pleasure of my heart. On the 26th of April she was taken ill of a fever, which lasted obstinate till the 17th day from the time it began. On her going to bed she said she should never rise from it more; and from all she said to me through her illness, it was evident that she continued satisfied she could not live. She said she did not begin to think about death then, and that she had no desire to live; ‘therefore, my dear mother, why not now? The Lord can make me ready for himself in a moment, and if I live longer I may not be better prepared; I am a poor creature--I can do nothing myself--I only hope you will be supported.’ She often desired me to pray by her, and with great earnestness accompanied me. And at one time she called me and said, ‘My dearest mother, come and lie down by me, and let my heart be laid close to yours, and then I shall get rest.’ She often called on the Lord Jesus to have mercy on her, and complained of her impatience, though no one ever heard a complaint pass her lips, notwithstanding her sufferings were very great. I said she was blessed with patience; she replied, ‘Oh, no!’ with some tears. During the last four days these sentences at times fell from her:--‘Jesus, teach me!--Jesus, wash me, cleanse me, and purify me!’ Lying quiet, she said, two angels were beckoning her, and she must go, but could not get up the ladder. Another time she said--‘I am as happy as my heart can desire to be.’ The day before her death, I came to her and asked if she knew me? She answered, ‘My dearest mother.’ I then asked if her heart was happy? She replied, ‘I now well understand you;’ and raising her head from the pillow, added, ‘I am happy, VERY, VERY happy!’ and then put out her lips to kiss me. She gave directions to her servant, Catherine Spooner, about the disposal of some rings, observing that she mentioned it to her, lest it should shock her dear mother to tell her. She often said, to be resigned to God’s will was all, and that she had no hope of salvation but in the mercy of Jesus Christ alone. Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.”
Mr. Romaine, in a letter to Mrs. Medhurst, of Kippax, the niece of Lady Huntingdon, and one of his most intimate and attached friends, says--
“The Lord does not leave himself without a witness among us poor sinners. He has been doing miracles of mercy for Lady Huntingdon; and as she herself says, in the midst of judgment he remembered mercy. You have heard, I suppose, of Lady Selina’s illness. She had a violent fever for about seventeen days, and the physicians did not apprehend she was in any great danger, although she was near her end. On Thursday morning, about four o’clock, the Lord took her to himself. O what a stroke was that, say you, to Lady Huntingdon! No, indeed, it was all mercy, all love, like the rest of Jesus’s gracious dealings with his people. During her illness, Lady Huntingdon had every day many promises given her of God’s kindness to her daughter; all which she interpreted in a carnal sense, like the Jews, and thought her daughter would recover, and do well again. By this means she was wonderfully supported, and her spirits were kept up to the last. And when the Lord let her see things were otherwise intended than she thought, then he had prepared for her a fresh fund of comfort; for such was Lady Selina’s behaviour, and such her speeches, from the beginning of her illness, that there is no doubt but she died happy in the arms of Jesus. My dear friend, if I had time to tell you all the particulars of her death, your soul would abundantly rejoice, and all that is within you would bless the God of your salvation. To him she committed herself, trusted him, found him faithful, and declared, over and over again, that in him she was happy. Her last words to her mother, when she took her leave, were these:--Lady Huntingdon had said, ‘My dearest child, how do you feel your heart? are you happy?’ Lady Selina answered, lifting up her head from the pillow, which she had not done for several days, ‘I am happy, exceedingly happy in Jesus’--then she kissed Lady Huntingdon and presently went home. Although my Lady bears this so well, yet she feels it. She is but a woman, and though a gracious one, yet grace does not destroy nature. She is a parent, and at present incapable of writing.”
It was Lady Selina’s happiness to be born of a parent who considered a religious education the highest accomplishment with which her daughter could be graced, and the most valuable patrimony with which she could be endowed. Her disposition was naturally amiable, and she studied to repay maternal affection with an attachment that “grew with her growth, and strengthened with her strength.” Her religion was the religion of the heart, and consisted in an habitual intercourse with her God, from which neither the attractions of youth and fortune, nor the dazzling splendour of high life, could divert her. Her conduct demonstrated the reality and energy of a divine principle, always alive and active in its influence on her mind; and as her life was amiable and useful, so its closing scenes were highly interesting. Possessing the grace and living the life, she had the consolation of departing in the full enjoyment of faith. From the commencement of her illness to the closing scene she discovered great serenity and composure of mind, arising from a firm reliance on the mediation, righteousness, and atonement of the Redeemer--a sweet complacency in the consolations of the Gospel, and the abounding display of divine mercy to the chief of sinners, through the method of salvation.
To resign into the arms of death so affectionate and dutiful a daughter was a severe trial to the Countess; but the consideration that it was ordered by that Being who is too wise to be mistaken, and too good to be unkind, silenced every opposing thought. “The choicest flowers we collect from the garden of society, which yields us the richest fragrance, too often fade in our bosom, drop their leaves, and moulder in the dust.” The loss of such a child was very sensibly felt by her afflicted mother; she best knew her worth, and most keenly deplored the parting stroke. But through the whole of this suffering season, this time of sorest anguish, she was enabled to look for help and strength to the Rock of her salvation, to yield implicit submission to the will of God, to be absolutely resigned to his disposal, and to repress every murmuring thought. “It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good,” was the prevailing sentiment of her humble, sorrowing, submissive soul.
This was a period much to be remembered by Lady Huntingdon, for the many affecting testimonies of distress which appeared on every side. A multitude of consolatory letters were addressed to her Ladyship on this afflicting event, by friends who were united to her in that intimacy of heart which is felt only by those who love the brethren for the truth’s sake. Mr. Whitefield was in Scotland, and just on the eve of embarking for America, at the time of Lady Selina’s illness and death. In a letter to Mr. Keene he says, “I rejoice to hear that good Lady Huntingdon is so supported;” and also to another correspondent--“Yours to Lady Huntingdon is taken care of. I hear her daughter died well, and that her Ladyship is comforted and resigned.”
The Earl of Dartmouth writes, under date of Blackheath, May 18, 1763--
“My dear Madam--Permit Lady Dartmouth and myself to sympathize with you on the recent departure of the amiable and excellent Lady Selina Hastings. Mr. Romaine was so good as to let me see your Ladyship’s letter to him, announcing the solemn event, and detailing the supports and divine consolations which she enjoyed in her last moments. Little did we imagine, when we had the pleasure of seeing her so lately in London, that she was so near the confines of the eternal world. But we know not what a day or a night may bring forth. Though nature must feel the loss of such a darling object, now must your Ladyship’s grief be mingled with joyful satisfaction and complacency that the noble evidence she gave of the grace and hope of the Gospel, and the loving-kindness and mercy of the Saviour, manifested in her dying moments. Oh, my dear Madam, Lady Selina is now singing the praises of redeeming love before the throne of God and of the Lamb.
‘She is happy now, and we, Soon her happiness shall see.’
“Lady Dartmouth feels most sensibly for your Ladyship on this occasion, and has been deeply affected by the touching close of your daughter’s earthly course. We are deeply indebted to your Ladyship, more deeply than we can express. Our obligations are of a nature never to be repaid by us; but you will be rewarded openly before an assembled world, when we shall swell that innumerable train of children which the Lord hath given to you. There, Madam, we shall hope to meet you and join your beatified child. God grant you grace to feel resigned and submissive under this event. To his never-failing kindness and mercy we commend you--living and dying may you be the Lord’s!
“With a grateful sense of your kindness, I remain, my dear Madam, your very affectionate, humble servant,
“DARTMOUTH.”
Mr. Venn writes from Huddersfield, May 31, 1763, as follows:--
“Amongst the many in these parts who have a love for your Ladyship’s name, and a tender sympathy with you, as a member of Christ, I desire to assure your Ladyship I do not forget to offer up many prayers, that your present very severe cross may be sanctified, and the agonizing separation be made supportable, by larger manifestations of the faithfulness and marvellous loving-kindness of God our Saviour.
* * * * *
“I was exceedingly glad to hear from Mr. Romaine’s letter to Mrs. Medhurst, that in the midst of so much grief there is so much cause to bless God for the manifestation of his love to your deceased daughter. How truly are we compared to the tender short-lived flower. In the short time of only nine months, no less than two of your Ladyship’s visitors at Knaresborough have been gathered to their long home. Mr. Grimshaw is now before the throne above, and that very amiable youth your Ladyship was so kind as to take some notice of, Mr. Thomas Hudson, received his dismission about two months since. His end, as his life, was much to the glory of free grace. Very delightful were the expressions of comfort that dropped from his lips.”[174]
Mr. Berridge writes from Everton, June 23, 1763:--
“My Lady--I received your letter from Brighthelmstone, and hope you will soon learn to bless your Redeemer for snatching away your daughter so speedily. Methinks I see great mercy in the suddenness of her removal, and when your bowels have done yearning for her you will see it too. O! what is she snatched from? Why, truly, from the plague of an evil heart, a wicked world, and a crafty devil--snatched from all such bitter grief as now overwhelms you--snatched from everything that might wound her ear, afflict her eye, or pain her heart. And what is she snatched to? To a land of everlasting peace, where the voice of the turtle is ever heard, where every inhabitant can say, ‘I am no more sick!’--no more whim in the head, no more plague in the heart; but all full of love and full of praise, ever seeing with enraptured eyes, ever blessing with adoring hearts, that dear Lamb who has washed them in his blood, and has now made them kings and priests unto God for ever and ever. Amen. O Madam! what would you have? Is it not better to sing in heaven, ‘Worthy is the Lamb that was slain,’ &c., than crying at Oathall, ‘O wretched woman that I am?’ Is it not better for her to go before, than to stay after you, and then to be lamenting, ‘Ah, my mother!’ as you now lament, ‘Ah, my daughter?’ Is it not better to have your Selina taken to heaven, than to have your heart divided between Christ and Selina? If she was a silver idol before, might she not have proved a golden one afterwards? She is gone to pay a most blessed visit, and will see you again by and by, never to part more. Had she crossed the sea and gone to Ireland, you could have borne it; but now she is gone to heaven ’tis almost intolerable. Wonderful strange love this! Such behaviour in others would not surprise me, but I could almost beat you for it; and I am sure Selina would beat you too, if she was called back but one moment from heaven, to gratify your fond desires. I cannot soothe you, and I must not flatter you. I am glad the dear creature is gone to heaven before you. Lament if you please; but glory, glory, glory, be to God, says
“JOHN BERRIDGE.”
Mr. Fletcher’s letter of condolence is dated Madely, September 10, 1763:--
“Blessed be God (he says) for giving us the unspeakable satisfaction to see Lady Selina safely landed, and out of the reach of vanity. This is mercy rejoicing over judgment of a truth. This is an answer to the blood of Jesus and prayers. This is an earnest of what the Lord will do for my Lady in his time.
“Come, my Lady, let us travel on, sticking close to our heavenly Guide; let us keep a hold of the hem of his garment, by firmly believing the arms of his wise providence and everlasting love are underneath us; let us hasten to our friends in light; and while we thus stand still, we shall see the salvation, the great salvation of our God. He that cometh will come, and will not tarry--even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly, and let us all be lost together in thy love and praise.”
Another passage from one of Mr. Berridge’s letters, a good specimen of his epistolary style, cannot be otherwise than acceptable to the reader. It is dated June 27, 1763:--
“My poor clay ever wants to teach God how to be a good potter; and may not your Dresden have something in it that resembles my Delf? You would not, like Uzziah, lay your hand on the ark of God; but may you not be too solicitous about a driver of the cart?--and a blinder hobgoblin than myself you need not desire. Indeed, I am so dissatisfied with my own carting, that, if I durst, I should throw the whip out of my hands. Every hour I lose my way--every day forget what I learnt the day before; neither instruction nor correction mends me. Yea, verily, though I know myself to be a most stupid ass, yet at times I am a most conceited one also. Though not fit to drive a dung-cart, yet at some certain seasons I can fancy myself qualified to be the King’s coachman. And nothing so much discovers to me the sovereign hypocrisy of my heart as when any one is so cruelly kind as to tell me that all the mean things I say of myself are very true. Nay, if your Ladyship should send me word that you really think me that hobgoblin which I seem to think myself, and fully think myself to be, it might put me so much out of conceit with you as to fancy that your Dresden was now no better than my Delf. Oh! I am sick, mighty sick of this self. How can you but rejoice for that happy creature who was delivered from this self, almost as soon as she felt the curse of it?”
In another letter, dated July 3, Mr. Berridge says:--
“Oh heart! heart! what art thou? a mass of fooleries and absurdities! the vainest, foolishest, craftiest, wickedest thing in nature. And yet the Lord Jesus asks me for this heart, woos me for it, died to win it. O wonderful love! adorable condescension!
“Take it, Lord, and let it be Ever closed to all but thee.”
Again, under date of July 9, 1763, he says:--
“Mrs. Bateman has sent me a mighty pretty letter to coax me into Sussex, and withal acquaints me that your Ladyship has been ill of a fever, but is now better. I was glad to hear of both. Nothing expels undue grief of mind like bodily corrections. Nothing makes the child leave crying like the rod; at least, I find it so by experience. However, I durst not send such consolation to many Christians, because they are not able to see the truth or bear the weight of it. I found your heart was sorely pained, and I pitied you, but durst not soothe you; for soothing, though it eases grief for a moment, only makes Lady Self grow more burdensome, and occasions more tears in the end. A little whipping from your Father will dry up your tears much sooner than a thousand pretty lullabies from your brethren. And I now hope you will be well soon.”
When Lady Huntingdon removed from Brighton to Oathall, in the June of this year (1763), she was engaged in making arrangements for the services of her chapel, which had been suspended during the illness and by the death of Lady Selina. Mr. Berridge could not leave Everton till relieved by Mr. Madan or Dr. Haweis. Mr. Madan went first to Brighton, and promised Mr. Berridge to visit Everton on Mr. Romaine’s return from Yorkshire. The Tottenham congregation would not be deprived of the services of Mr. Dyer,[175] depending on Mr. Green;[176] and neither the hospital chaplains[177] nor the vicar of St. Dunstan’s[178] cared (we quote Mr. Berridge) to peep into the Tottenham pulpit.
In the course of this summer, Mr. Venn, having come from Huddersfield to London, to superintend the publication of his “Complete Duty of Man,” proceeded thence to Brighton, on a visit to Lady Huntingdon. He preached frequently in Brighton, but could not accompany her Ladyship to Oathall. On the 27th of August, after his return to Huddersfield, he wrote to acknowledge a letter from the Countess, and observes--“I desire to be abased, and am filled with the deepest wonder at the account you send me of the Lord’s prospering my poor attempts to preach his name among your people. My visit to your Ladyship was indeed a great blessing to my own soul.” In the letter he alludes to a visit which he paid to Ipswich, on his way homeward, to his brother, Dr. Edward Venn, M.D., of St. John’s College, Cambridge, who settled as a physician at Ipswich,[179] where, he tells us, his wife’s brother was minister of the great church.
Mr. Romaine reached Everton on the 1st of August, and Mr. Berridge set out for Oathall, whence, after a time, he proceeded to London, and preached at the Tottenham Chapel, and returned to Everton before the end of a month. In the meanwhile Mr. Madan had succeeded Mr. Romaine at Everton, and afterwards, by Lady Huntingdon’s desire, extended his excursion to Yorkshire. Mr. Romaine had by this time reached Brighton. In Mr. Berridge’s letter to Lady Huntingdon, written after his return home, and dated Everton, September 2nd, 1763, he says he heard Mr. Edwards, of Leeds, at the Tabernacle, whom he describes as a sensible man, who seems alive, but a wonderful admirer of method, and one who has swallowed John Calvin whole at a mouthful. The congregation at Tottenham-street, when Mr. Berridge preached, were, he says, “much like the mien and garb of an undertaker--rather dismal than dolorous.” He had been hurried from London, he says, by a letter from Mr. Hicks, of Wrestlingworth, whose wife had died very suddenly. He tells Lady Huntingdon that Mr. Reeves[180] and Mr. Prior had been elected afternoon lecturers at Whitechapel--salary, 50_l._ a year; duty, a sermon alternately on Sunday afternoons. Mr. Maxfield, he says, grows violent, and Bell recovers his delusion apace, bidding fair for a greater enthusiast than ever. He speaks highly of Mr. Richardson and Mr. Tilney, and concludes his long but amusing letter by promising a speedy return to the Tabernacle.
Lady Huntingdon continued at Brighton. Her friends, Mrs. Cartaret and Mrs. Cavendish, were her inmates there in the middle of September, about which period she received another letter from Mr. Berridge, dated the Tabernacle House, but we do not think it necessary to make any further extracts from this interesting correspondence.
Chapter XXI
Mr. Romaine--Lectureship at St. Dunstan’s--Lord Mansfield--Darkness Visible--The Bishop of Peterborough--Popular Election--St. Ann’s, Blackfriars--Probation Sermon--Contest--Canvassing--Scrutiny--Second Election--Suit in Chancery--Gratitude of Lady Huntingdon--Mr. Jesse--Mr. Shirley--Mr. Romaine’s Views of his Preferment--Lewes--Lady Huntingdon procures an opening for Mr. Romaine, for Mr. Madan, and Mr. Fletcher--The Oratorio--Musical Taste of Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis--Lady Huntingdon’s Chapel at Lewes opened--and re-opened--Mr. Mason; his Work on the Catechism--Mr. Edwards, of Ipswich--Mr. Berridge and his Bees--Southey’s Reflections--Their Refutation--Character of Berridge; his Wit; his Labours--Berridge and the Bishop.
At the beginning of the year 1764, Mr. Romaine was preaching at Brighton. He was now a married man, and blessed with a family, yet his provision from the church amounted to no more than eighteen pounds a year--such was the value of his only preferment, the lectureship of St. Dunstan’s. But he was chaplain to Lady Huntingdon, and had many pious friends, who proved, in his case, that they had pondered on the saying, “They who minister at the altar shall live by the altar.” He was besides singularly abstemious--a grace of poverty which secured to him the riches of confirmed and continued health throughout a long career of usefulness. Even the paltry pittance we have named he was not suffered to enjoy. As at St. George’s, Hanover-square, so at St. Dunstan’s, his preaching offended the rector, who always took possession of the pulpit before the Liturgy was read through, to prevent Mr. Romaine from preaching. He appealed to the law, and Lord Mansfield decided that he could not be excluded from the pulpit: yet the loose decision of the judge enabled the opposite party to keep the church closed to the very latest moment, which they failed not to do, while thousands congregated in the street, and no sooner were the doors opened than they rushed in, to the great peril of each other’s lives. The churchwardens refused to light the church, or suffer it to be lighted, and Mr. Romaine often preached by the light of a single candle, which he held in his own hand. Ultimately, by the influence of the Bishop of Peterborough,[181] this vexatious opposition was put an end to, and he was suffered to see his congregation.
About this time occurred a popular election for the living of St. Ann’s, Blackfriars, the right of presentation to which is vested alternately in the Crown and in the parishioners. The last incumbent was the nephew of the Lord Chancellor Henley, afterwards Earl of Northington, an intimate friend of Lady Huntingdon. This pious young clergyman had caught a putrid fever whilst visiting a parishioner suffering under that disorder, and, as Mr. Cadogan tells us, died suddenly of this frightful disorder, after he had held the living six years and a half. “It was immediately impressed on my mind (said Lady Huntingdon), that Mr. Henley’s vacancy was to be filled by dear Mr. Romaine.” She spoke to the Lord Chancellor, and, at her suggestion, Mr. Thornton and Mr. Madan made interest with the parishioners. Mr. Romaine was absent in Yorkshire, and his canvassers frequently heard his pride urged against him. “He (it was said) disdains to ask our voices, while the candidate in canonicals comes hat in hand, bowing from door to door.”[182] On the 30th of September, 1764, the candidates were to preach the probation sermon, and Mr. Romaine, apprised by his friends, was on the spot, and preached from these words:--“We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus’ sake.” The sermon contained the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as it is in Jesus. His friends, including Lady Huntingdon, absented themselves, in order that the regular parishioners might not be incommoded, nor have any shadow of offence. The word was well received, and was afterwards printed, at the request of the parishioners. The election proceeded, a scrutiny was demanded, but the qualification of the votes could not be settled. A second election took place--Mr. Romaine obtained a great majority of unchallenged votes, but the friends of the opposite candidates raised new difficulties, and the matter was thrown into the Court of Chancery.
Pending this vexatious suit, Mr. Romaine preached for Lady Huntingdon, at Brighton, Oathall, and Bath, and took a journey into Yorkshire to meet her Ladyship, preaching on his way at Bretby, Derby, &c. His letters to Lady Huntingdon during this suspense mark its influence on his mind. In one letter he solicits her Ladyship’s influence with two Quakers named Webb, who had great power with the voters. His friends, he says, accuse him of being too easy, “but (he continues) I think not. * * * Blackfriars’ Church is desirable, but we cannot tell whether Jesus wants it or not; if he does, he will bring it about: if not, his will be done.” The cause was put off from day to day; but, for the sake of order, we may here anticipate the due chronological course of our narrative, to observe that in the beginning of February, 1766, the Lord Chancellor Henley finally decreed in his favour, and he was instituted and inducted accordingly. During the ceremony he was observed to tremble, and it is well known that numbers of his congregation received their new pastor most unwillingly; he lived, however, to remove all their prejudices, and to bless them, with, as well as against, their own consent. While his friends were wishing him joy of this preferment, he saw it in a different light: “It is my Master’s will (he says), and I submit.” To Lady Huntingdon he writes:--
“Now, when I was setting up my rest, and had begun to say unto my soul, ‘Soul, take thine ease,’ I am called into a public station, and to the sharpest engagement, just as I had got into winter quarters--an engagement for life. I can see nothing before me, so long as the breath is in my body, but war, and that with unreasonable men, a divided parish, an angry clergy, a wicked Sodom, and a wicked world, all to be resisted and overcome: besides all these, a sworn enemy, subtle and cruel, with whom I can make no peace, no, not a moment’s truce, night and day, with all his children and his host, is aiming at my destruction. When I take counsel of the flesh I begin to faint; but when I go to the sanctuary I see my good cause, and my Master is Almighty--a tried Friend, and then he makes my courage revive. Although I am no way fit for the work, yet he called me to it, and on him I depend for strength to do it and for success to crown it, I utterly despair of doing anything as of myself, and therefore the more I have to do, I shall be forced to live more by faith upon him. In this view I hope to get a great income by my LIVING. I shall want my Jesus more, and shall get closer to him. As he has made my application to him more necessary and more constant, he has given me stronger tokens of his love. Methinks I can hear his sweet voice--‘Come closer, come closer, soul! nearer yet; I will bring you into circumstances that you cannot do without me!”
No one strove more on his side, or rejoiced more in his success, than the zealous Countess:--
“Through the gracious hand of God (says her Ladyship) my dear and excellent Romaine has at length succeeded, and the decision of the Lord Chancellor has put to silence the evil clamours of his unreasonable opponents.”
Mr. Jesse, who, with Mr. Shirley, was then at Oathall, says--
“We have had quite a little jubilee on the confirmation of the validity of our dear brother Romaine’s election. Never have I seen more heartfelt joy and gratitude than was expressed on that occasion by her Ladyship. I verily believe that if Mr. Romaine had not gained his election, the disappointment and vexation would have well nigh killed her.”
His success was ample; he was heard with reverence by his parishioners, and vast sums were distributed out of their communion offerings. The neglect, by the then rulers of the Church, of such men as Romaine, Walker of Truro, Adams of Wintringham, Venn, Newton, Shirley, Townsend, Haweis, Grimshaw, Berridge, Madan, Fletcher, Talbot, Conyers, Pentycross, Milner, Jesse, and others, should be a lesson to the candid diocesan and Church patrons of our day.
In the beginning of the year 1765, the Countess of Huntingdon, ever active in well doing, began to concert measures for introducing the Gospel into the town of Lewes, where already her Brighton chaplains had reaped fruit. She first obtained for Mr. Romaine one of the pulpits, where his preaching gave great umbrage; he afterwards preached in a large room, and ultimately in the open fields:--
“All gave earnest heed (said her Ladyship) while he applied those solemn words, ‘Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins of the world.’ I did not see one careless or inattentive person, and there is reason to think that many poor sinners were cut to the heart.”
But her Ladyship, in all her continued efforts to serve the Master who had washed her from sin, never exalts, but debases herself, and considers her best exertions valueless in his sight. In February her Ladyship was in London, at the residence of Lady Fanny Shirley, and, in company with her chaplains, attended the performance of Ruth, an oratorio, at the Lock Chapel. Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis were both extremely musical, and composers. The music of “Before Jehovah’s awful throne”--“From all that dwell below the skies”--“Salvation! O the joyful sound”--“To God, the only wise”--and many others, by Mr. Madan, are well known and deservedly popular. She returned to Brighton, and thence to Lewes, and obtained there a pulpit for Mr. Madan and Mr. Fletcher. The clergy opposed them violently, and they betook themselves to a large room, where they preached alternately to great numbers. Very soon, however, Lady Huntingdon, erected a chapel, which was opened on the 13th of August, 1765, by Mr. Peckwell, Mr. Pentycross, and the Rev. George Burder, then a member of the Tabernacle, and about to enter on his ministerial career. The chapel was regularly supplied by the ministers of Lady Huntingdon’s Connexion. Mr. Jones, a student of Trevecca, occupied it for some time, and thirty years after Dr. Peckwell’s opening, it was re-opened by the Rev. G. S. White, of Cheshunt, on the 21st of July, 1805.
Mr. William Mason, who had been brought to a knowledge of the light by the Rev. John Wesley, and had been a class leader in his Connexion, having attended the Tabernacle, and hearing Mr. Whitefield and other Calvinistic preachers, withdrew from Mr. Wesley. It was about this time that he published “A Letter to the Rev. Dr. Free, on the morality and divinity contained in certain articles proposed by the Doctor to the Court of Assistants of the Worshipful Company of Salters.” This letter was a defence of his honoured and much-esteemed friends, the Rev. Mr. Romaine and Mr. Jones. He was a magistrate of the county of Surrey, and resided at Rotherhithe-wall, whence he addressed to Lady Huntingdon an apology for declining an invitation to Brighton. This letter is dated January 26, 1765:--
“Many thanks (he says) for your Ladyship’s honour done me in the third invitation to Brighthelmstone. How happy should I be, if I may he permitted an excursion from business to embrace it. Our dear Mr. Romaine is elected to Blackfriars, 134 against 105. I heard from dear Mrs. Romaine last week, when I dined there, that your Ladyship is bringing up a little company for Jesus. Have you seen my poor thoughts on a sermon and catechism for children?”
In April Mr. Romaine again visited Brighton, and was aided in carrying out the pious views of Lady Huntingdon by the Rev. Howel Davies and the Rev. Peter Williams. At Worthing several clergymen attempted to excite a riot while Mr. Davies was preaching, and not succeeding in their efforts, went away, threatening revenge on the first Methodist parson they might meet. What a contrast does this conduct afford to that of Mr. Edwards, of Ipswich, a Dissenting minister, who, having been recommended to Lady Huntingdon by Mr. Williams, was invited by her Ladyship to visit her at Brighton. “I have no objection to truth from the lips of a Dissenter (said her Ladyship), provided he has no design to form a party.” To this Mr. Edwards replied:--
“With an incessant dependence on the Divine Spirit, I desire that my whole thoughts, aims, and endeavours, in the course of my ministry, may be to lead the minds of the people to Jesus Christ’s person, offices, character, &c., and to lay no manner of stress upon the outskirts of religion, and, like your Ladyship, practise what I explode; that thereby the fury of bigotry may be tamed and subdued, and, under the blessing of God, a spirit of love may be kindled towards all who love Jesus Christ in sincerity. Notwithstanding the sad divisions that are in the Church, yet the children of God are one: one in relation--one family--one flock, and, as far as they are sanctified, one in image and likeness--one in their aims and requests--one in friendship--one in interest and inheritance. It is a pity, then, that any should have a narrow spirit, or an alienation of affection between them, seeing that they have but one common interest to engage in. However, I have had repeated evidences, from many parts of the kingdom, that your Ladyship’s truly Catholic spirit has influenced many; and a review of that evangelical temper which you cultivate will afford an inward satisfaction, which applause cannot give, or censure take away. What a great historian says of Vespasian is equally applicable to your Ladyship--that your noble descent and your rich abundance have changed nothing in you but this, that your power of doing good is made in some degree to answer your will, counting it a greater honour to lay out for God than to lay up for yourself. May your life upon earth continue to a very distant period--the life of faith continually increase; and may you daily enjoy in rich abundance that UNCTION from the HOLY ONE; and at last, with a full gale, enter the harbour of eternal glory. These wishes, as they are the agreeable employ of my thoughts, so they are the earnest prayer of, Madam, your Ladyship’s, &c.”[183]
During this summer the number of Lady Huntingdon’s clerical guests at Brighton and Oathall was increased by the visit of the Rev. Edward Spencer, afterwards the celebrated rector of Winkfield, near Bradford, in Wiltshire. At the time of which we speak he was curate to Dr. Chapman, of Bradford, master of St. John’s Hospital, Bath. His preaching was appealed against as Methodistical, and complaints made to Dr. Hume, Bishop of Salisbury. He was invited by Lady Huntingdon to join her Connexion; but, with all respect and devotion, he declined this offer, feeling that within the pale of regularity he might encounter offence and work his Master’s business. During this summer her Ladyship opened her chapels at Bretby and Bath, and did not return to her beloved Brighton till November. In that month Mr. Romaine addressed to her Ladyship a letter, which commenced thus:--
“Dear and honoured in our eternally precious Jesus, grace be to you. His mercies fail not. He is exceedingly, according to his infinite nature, kind and good to me and mine. In temporals beyond our hopes. Here we are at home in safety, and in want of nothing. In spirituals, he is a Saviour to us, and what would we more?”
Having spent the winter of 1765 between Brighton and Oathall, her Ladyship, early in the spring of 1766, applied to Mr. Hicks, rector of Wrestlingworth, to supply her chapels for a time. Her Ladyship’s request was made through Mr. Berridge, under date of February 12th, and a few days afterwards he addressed to her Ladyship one of his able but eccentric notes, declining not only for Mr. Hicks, but for himself, her Ladyship’s invitation:--
“As to myself (he says), I am now determined not to quit my charge again in a hurry. Never do I leave my bees, though for a short space only, but at my return I find them either casting and colting, or fighting and robbing each other; not gathering honey from every flower in God’s garden, but filling the air with their buzzings, and darting out the venom of their little hearts in their fiery stings. Nay, so inflamed they often are, and a mighty little thing disturbs them, that three months’ tinkling afterwards with a warming-pan will scarce hive them at last, and make them settle to work again. They are now in a mighty ferment, occasioned by the sounding brass of a Welsh DYER,[184] who has done me the same kind office at Everton that he has done my friend at Tottenham. ’Tis a pity he should have the charge of anything but wasps; these he might allure into the treacle pot, and step in before them himself, but he never will fill a hive with honey.”
He goes on thus figuratively to warn her Ladyship against the Independents and Baptists, and other Dissenters, who were at that time alluring the congregations from her Ladyship’s chapels.
This singular style of Mr. Berridge has led Mr. Southey to call him a “buffoon as well as fanatic.” He was neither. Lady Huntingdon invited him repeatedly to meet at her house the elegant and the courtly, and Mr. Whitefield called him an “angel of the Church” indeed, employing him repeatedly as his own substitute at Tottenham-court Chapel and the Tabernacle.
The late Mr. Simeon, of Cambridge, did not think so, when he preached his funeral sermon. Clare Hall did not think him either, when it presented him to the vicarage of Everton. But his office of Moderator is abundant proof that he was neither a buffoon or fanatic. Unhappily for Southey, when he ventured to write the life of Wesley, he was ignorant both of the men and the subject he handled. Mr. Watson has taught him a lesson, which he will remember to the last hour of his existence; and the exclamation of George the Fourth, on the perusal of Mr. Watson’s defence of Wesley--“Oh! my poor Poet Laureate! my poor Poet Laureate!”--must have been cutting to Southey. Berridge was not such a buffoon as South, nor such a punster as Donne, nor such a satirist as Lavington. His wit never wounded a penitent, nor hardened a sinner. It disturbed many a solemn drone, and mortified the self-righteous; but it never intimidated the humble, nor led the weak to confound Methodism with hypocrisy. He was constitutionally mercurial, and his perfect scholarship, as a classic, enabled him to give point to piquant thoughts--for he was equally familiar with Aristotelian and Aristophanic Greek; and there will be some buffoonery whenever the latter is understood. He did not, however,
“Win a grin, where he should woo a soul.”
He often caused a smile, that he might create a tear--a hazardous, if not an unwarrantable experiment in the pulpit. In learning he was inferior to very few of the most celebrated sons of science and literature at the University: his masculine ability, his uniform sobriety, and long residence at college, were favourable to improvement; and so insatiable was his thirst for knowledge, that from his entrance at Clare Hall to his acceptance of the vicarage of Everton, he regularly studied fifteen hours a day. The late Mr. Venn, who had been in habits of intimacy with him from their admission into college, has declared, “that he was as familiar with the learned languages as he was with his mother-tongue.” He also added, “that he could be under no temptation to court respect by itinerant preaching, for he merited and enjoyed that in a high degree among all ranks of the literary professions at the University.”
The mode of his public ministrations was emphatically original. He evidently observed method in all his sermons; but it was unhackneyed. It was not his custom to arrange his subjects under general heads of discourse; but when he made the attempt, his divisions would be particularly natural, and rigidly adhered to. As he rarely allegorized, or accommodated the Scriptures, he was less liable to mistake their meaning. He seldom referred to their original text; but when he did, his remarks were pertinent. In his discussion of general topics, his figures were new, his illustrations apposite, and his arguments conclusive. Though he obtained the just reputation of being a learned man, and was conversant with all the beauties of language, so ardent was his desire of doing good to his most illiterate hearers, that he laid aside an affected style of elegance, and, from principle, cultivated an easy and familiar diction.
His stature was tall, but not awkward--his make was lusty, but not corpulent--his voice deep, but not hoarse--strong, but not noisy--his pronunciation was distinct, but not broad. In his countenance there was gravity without grimace. His address was solemn, but not sour--easy, but not careless--deliberate, but not drawling--pointed, but not personal--affectionate, but not fawning. He would often weep, but never whine: his sentences were short, but not ambiguous--his ideas were collected, but not crowded. Upon the whole, his manner and person were agreeable and majestic. But what transcended all the above excellences, and gave him such an ascendancy in the consciences of his numerous hearers, were the doctrines he taught, together with their unbounded influence upon all the powers of his mind and transactions of his life. Deep necessity compelled him to embrace and preach Jesus Christ; and the same necessity led him into more enlarged discoveries of his grace. Living under their perpetual control, and enjoying their ineffable sweetness, he was not only willing to impart the truths of the everlasting Gospel, but to consecrate himself to the service of his Lord and the souls of men. For twenty-four years he continued to ride nearly one hundred miles, and to preach some ten or twelve sermons, every week. At home, for his hearers who came from a distance, his table was served, and his stables open for their horses; and abroad, houses and barns were rented, lay preachers supplied, and his own expenses paid out of his own pocket. His ear was ever attentive to the tale of woe, his eye was keen to observe the miseries of the poor, the law of kindness was written upon his heart, and his hand was always ready to administer relief. The gains of his vicarage, of his fellowship, and of his patrimonial income (for his father died very rich), and even his family plate, were appropriated to support his liberality, he was always a favourite with Lady Huntingdon. Her conversation and correspondence with him were greatly blessed to his profit and advantage, and instrumental, under the divine blessing, in leading him to clearer and more consistent views of the plan of salvation, and of preaching the whole counsel of God with greater boldness and clearness. To her he was indebted for much spiritual light, and her liberality in other matters was felt and acknowledged by him.
“Soon after I began to preach the Gospel at Everton (says Mr. Berridge) the churches in the neighbourhood were deserted, and mine so overcrowded, that the squire, who ‘did not like strangers (he said), and hated to be incommoded,’ joined with the offended parsons, and soon after, a complaint having been made against me, I was summoned before the bishop. ‘Well, Berridge (said his lordship), did I institute you to Eaton or Potten? Why do you go preaching out of your own parish?’ ‘My Lord (says I), I make no claims to the living of those parishes; ’tis true, I was once at Eaton, and finding a few poor people assembled, I admonished them to repent of their sins, and to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, for the salvation of their souls. At that very moment, my lord, there were five or six clergymen out of their own parishes, and enjoying themselves on the Eaton bowling-green.’ ‘I tell you (retorted his lordship), that if you continue preaching where you have no right, you will very likely be sent to Huntingdon gaol.’ ‘I have no more regard, my lord, for a gaol than other folks (rejoined I); but I had rather go there with a good conscience, than be at liberty without one.’ His lordship looked very hard at me, ‘Poor fellow! (said he), you are beside yourself, and in a few months you will either be better or worse.’ ‘Then, my lord (said I), you may make yourself quite happy in this business; for if I should be better, you suppose I shall desist of my own accord; and if worse, you need not send me to Huntingdon gaol, for I shall be better accommodated in Bedlam.’ His lordship then pathetically entreated me, as one who had been and wished to continue my friend, not to embitter the remaining portion of his days by any squabbles with my brother clergymen, but to go home to my parish, and so long as I kept within it, I should be at liberty to do what I liked there.’ As to your conscience (said his lordship), you know that preaching out of your parish is contrary to the canons of the Church.’ ‘There is one canon, my lord (said I) which I dare not disobey, and that says, Go, preach the Gospel to EVERY CREATURE.’”
The bishop was displeased, but Berridge gave himself little uneasiness on the subject; in the mean while an old friend, a fellow of Clare Hall, who was very intimate with Pitt (afterwards Lord Chatham), stimulated him to exert his influence with a nobleman who had been the means of the bishop’s promotion. This noble lord immediately applied to the bishop in behalf of Berridge, and, notwithstanding the efforts of his numerous enemies, the good man was suffered to occupy “the lines which had fallen to him in pleasant places.” Although, however, Mr. Berridge attributes his triumph over the squire and his party to the influence of Mr. Pitt, we must not forget that Lord Chancellor Henley, who had promoted the bishop (Dr. John Green) to the see of Lincoln, was the friend of Lady Huntingdon, and that to her Ladyship’s application Mr. Berridge owed the interference with the bishop of his immediate patron--an influence not inferior to that of the renowned Earl of Chatham. To this Mr. Grimshaw alludes in a letter of this period, when he says--“May the Lord eternally bless that dear, good, honourable Lady Huntingdon, who would defend a persecuted minister of Christ to the last gown on her back and the last shilling in her pocket!”
In the beginning of this year her Ladyship came from Brighton to London, and went thence to Bath, returning to town in July. One of Mr. Berridge’s very singular but powerful letters was addressed to her Ladyship in that month. It refers, among other matters, to the fatal illness of Mr. Beckman, a particular friend of Mr. Whitefield’s, who, with Messrs. Keene and Hardy, managed the affairs of the Tabernacle and Tottenham-court Chapel. We would quote this letter at length, but fear lest we should be thought to have already trespassed too long on the patience of the reader with the eccentric and self-condemning letters of this excellent and amiable, but very original writer. It is a duty, however, which the biographer cannot with propriety neglect, to let men paint themselves. The Christian can not take offence at the exhibition of Christian weakness. If any such weak brother be offended by the quaint strength of Mr. Berridge’s epistolary language, let him remember how the apostles speak of their own weakness and that of each other, and let self-examination lead to better thoughts and milder judgments. The exuberant humour of Berridge, and his very figurative and even whimsical mode of illustration, should act as a warning on all who feel any tendency to singularity in this way. Let them remember, whether in writing or in speaking, this sacred injunction--in doctrine, show incorruptness, gravity, and sincerity.
We have before us a series of letters, a correspondence between Mr. Berridge and Mr. Thornton. The first of the letters to which we allude is dated Everton, September 21, 1775, and in it Berridge gives a whimsical account of his loss of a tooth, of the ill effects of this loss on his utterance, of his supplying the cavity with bees’ wax, which fell out in the midst of a sermon, and compelled him to conclude abruptly, in horror of the hissing and indistinct sounds he uttered. He goes on quaintly to relate a struggle between himself and Lady Pride, who advises him to go to London and have a new tooth, but to apply to Mr. Thornton to advance 10_l._, which would be necessary for the journey and the operation. To this curious letter of the vicar of Everton the following delightful and instructive reply was sent by Mr. Thornton, under date of Clapham, October 17, 1775:--
“TO THE REV. JOHN BERRIDGE.
“Dear Sir--Your favour, with the enclosed note, I received: we merchants are better taught than to be offended at any that enclose us good bank bills, for they are always acceptable; there is more danger of my being awkward in the acknowledgment of the receipt, than offended. I recollect but one instance that any of your cloth put me to the test, and that was through roguery, so I did let it travel back again to Dr. Shylock, but I promise you I have not a thought of it now. I shall only add, I thank you for the opportunity, and desire you will be free with me at all times.
“In some discussions we have had relative to ‘The Christian World Unmasked,’ I could not help laughing with you, though at the same time I felt a check within; your reasons silenced, but did not satisfy me. Your vein of humour and mine seem much alike; if there is any difference between us, it lies here--I would strive against mine, while you seem to indulge yours. I fight against mine, because I find the ludicrous spirit is just as dangerous as the sullen one: and it is much the same to our great adversary, whether he falls in with a capricious or facetious turn of mind. I could not forbear smiling at your humorous allegory about the tooth, and was pleased with the good sense displayed in it; yet something came across my mind--Is this method agreeable to the idea we ought to entertain of a father in Israel? It would pass mighty well in a newspaper, or anything calculated for public entertainment; but it certainly wanted that solidity or seriousness that a Christian minister should write with. What the apostle said in another sense will apply here--‘When I was a child, I spake as a child,’ &c. An expression of yours in your prayer before sermon, when at Tottenham-court, struck me; that God would give us NEW bread, not stale, but what was baked in the oven that day. Whether it is that I am too little, or you too much, used to such expressions, I won’t pretend to determine; but I could not help thinking it savoured of attention to men more than to God. I know the apology frequently made for such language is, that the common people require it--it fixes their attention, and affords matter for conversation afterwards; for a sentence out of the common road is more remembered than all the rest. This may be true; but the effect it has is only a loud laugh among their acquaintances; not one person is edified, and many are offended by such like expressions. Some ministers I have known run into the other extreme, and think something grand must be uttered to strike the audience; but this seems to me as unnecessary as the other, and both have a twang of self-conceit, and seem like leaning to carnal wisdom. Truth, simple truth, requires no embellishments, nor should it be degraded; we are not to add or to take from it, but to remember the power is of God wholly. My reverend friend, as an old man, might be indulged in his favourite peculiarities, if they would stop with him; but others catch the infection, and we find young ministers and common people indulging themselves in the same way--they think they are authorized so to do by such an example. Wit in any person is dangerous and often mischievous, when used improperly, and especially on religious subjects; for as the professing part of an audience will much longer retain a witty or a low expression, than one more serious, so will the wicked part of it too, and turn it to the disadvantage of religion. I recollect but one humorous passage in all the Bible, which is that of Elijah with the Baalites; and when the time, place, and circumstances are properly considered, nothing could be more seasonable--nothing so effectually expose the impotency of their false god and the absurdity of their vain worship. The prophets often speak ironically, sometimes satirically, but I do not remember of their ever speaking ludicrously. Our Lord and his apostles never had recourse to any such methods. The short abstracts we have of their sermons and conversations are all in serious strain, and ministers cannot copy after better examples. I dare not say that giving liberty to a man’s natural turn, or an endeavour to put and keep the people in good humour, is sinful; but this I may assert, such a method is universally followed on the stage, and in all places of public entertainment; and therefore it seems to me to savour much more of the old man than of the new.
“I remember you once jocularly informed me you was born with a fool’s cap on: pray, my dear sir, is it not high time it was pulled off? Such an accoutrement may suit a natural birth, and be of service; but surely it has nothing to do with a spiritual one, nor ever can be made ornamental to a serious man, much less to a Christian minister. I waive mentioning Scripture injunctions, such as, ‘Let your speech be with grace,’ &c., as you know these better than I do. Surely they should have some weight, for idle and unprofitable words stand forbidden. If it should please God to give you to see things as I do, you will think it necessary to be more guarded; but should you think me mistaken, I trust it will make no interruption in our friendship that I am thus free with you, as it proceeds from a sincere love and regard. The Tabernacle people are in general wild and enthusiastic, and delight in anything out of the common, which is a temper of mind, though in some respects necessary, yet should never be encouraged. If you and some few others, who have the greatest influence over them, would use the curb, instead of the spur, I am persuaded the effect would be very blessed. Wild fire is better than no fire; but there is a divine warmth between these two extremes which the real Christian catches, and which, when obtained, is evidenced by a cool head and a warm heart, and makes him a glorious, shining example to all around him. I desire to be earnest in prayer that we may be more and more partakers of this heavenly wisdom, and ascribe all might, majesty, and dominion to the Lord alone. I am, dear Sir, yours affectionately,
“JOHN THORNTON.”
The reply to this letter is an honour equally to both correspondents: it is addressed to John Thornton, Esq., and dated Everton, October 22, 1765:--
“Dear and honoured Sir--Your favour of the 17th requires an answer, attended with a challenge. And I do hereby challenge you, and defy all your acquaintances to prove, that I have a single correspondent half so honest as yourself. Epistolary intercourses are become a polite traffic; and he that can say pretty things, and wink at bad things, is an admired correspondent. Indeed, for want of due authority and meekness on one side, and of patience and humility on the other, to give or to take reproof, a fear of raising indignation, instead of conviction, often puts a bar on the door of my lips; for I find where reproof does not humble, it hardens; and the seasonable time of striking, if we can catch it, is when the iron is hot--when the heart is melted down in a furnace. Then it submits to the stroke, and takes and retains the impression. I wish you would exercise the trade of a Gospel limner, and draw the features of all my brethren in black, and send them their portraits. I believe you would do them justice every way, by giving every cheek its proper blush, without hiding a dimple upon it. Yet I fear, if your subsistence depended on this business, you would often want a morsel of bread, unless I sent you a quartern loaf from Everton. As to myself, you know the man: odd things break from me as abruptly as croaking from a raven. I was born with a fool’s cap. ‘True (you say), yet why is the cap not put off?--it suits the first Adam, but not the second.’ A very proper question, and my answer is this: a fool’s cap is not put off so readily as a night-cap. One cleaves to the head and one to the heart. Not many prayers only, but many furnaces, are needful for this purpose. And, after all, the same thing happens to a tainted heart as to a tainted cask, which may be sweetened by many washings and firings, yet a scent remains still. Late furnaces have singed the bonnet of my cap, but the crown still abides on my head; and I must confess that the crown so abides in whole or in part, for want of a closer walk with God, and nearer communion with him. ”When I creep near the throne, this humour disappears, or is tempered so well as not to be distasteful. Hear, Sir, how my Master deals with me: when I am running wild, and saying things somewhat rash or very quaint, he gives me an immediate blow on my breast, which stuns me. Such a check I received whilst I was uttering that expression in prayer you complained of; but the bolt was too far shot to be recovered. Thus I had intelligence from above before I received it from your hand. However, I am bound to thank you, and do hereby acknowledge myself reimbursed for returning your note.
“And now, dear Sir, having given you an honest account of myself, and acknowledged the obligation I owe you, I would return the obligation in the best manner I am able. It has been a matter of surprise to me how Dr. Conyers could accept of Deptford living, and how Mr. Thornton could present him to it. The Lord says, ‘Woe to the idle shepherd that leaveth his flock.’ Is not Helmsley flock, and a choice flock too, left--left altogether, and left in the hands, not of shepherds to feed, but of wolves to devour them? Has not lucre led him to Deptford, and has not a family connexion overruled your private judgment? You may give me a box on the ear for these questions, if you please, and I will take it kindly, and still love and pray for you. The Lord bless you, and bless your family, and bless your affectionate servant,
“JOHN BERRIDGE.”
At the close of this letter Mr. Berridge alludes to a circumstance which may require some explanation. Mr. Thornton was induced, in 1765, to visit Dr. Conyers, then rector of Helmsley, in the North Riding of Yorkshire. Delighted as such men must be with each other, they became friends, and soon after brothers, for Mr. Thornton’s sister, Mrs. Knipe, a rich and pious widow, was united to Dr. Conyers in 1765. They were the blessing of their district; but their happiness was not long-lived, for a lingering illness carried off Mrs. Conyers, to the deep regret of the parish; yet was this stroke less heavy than that by which it was followed, for within eighteen months the rectory of St. Paul’s, Deptford, the presentation to which had been purchased by Mr. Thornton, became vacant, and Dr. Conyers was removed from his parishioners, to their heartfelt sorrow. They were his children in the Gospel; and when we say that the regular communicants were eighteen hundred, we need add nothing in his praise. But he quitted them, and to avoid the confusion that he apprehended from their vehement leave-taking,[185] he quitted Helmsley at midnight. His departure has been defended by some and blamed by others; but by his parishioners his loss was the more deplored, as his successor was more of the wolf than the sheep-dog, and devastated rather than kept the fold.
Chapter XXII
Mr. and Mrs. Powys--Letters--Mr. Whitefield--Mr. Fletcher--Mr. Venn--Sir C. Hotham--Howel Harris--Chapel at Brighton re-opened--Letters--Mr. Romaine--Mr. Talbot--Mr. Berridge--Anecdote of the Countess--Mr. De Courcy--Mr. Vincent Perronet--Mr. Toplady--Mr. Bliss--Mr. Pentycross--Chapel at Chichester opened--Chapel at Petworth--at Guildford--Basingstoke--Enlargement of that at Brighton--Mr. Thomas Jones.
Mr. and Mrs. Powys visited Lady Huntingdon, at Oathall and Brighton, in the course of this summer (1766):[186] making some stay in London on their way, they were introduced to Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Fletcher, and became intimate with both. Mr. Whitefield’s farewell letter to this “honoured and happy pair,” when his “cloud pointed to Bath and Bristol,” theirs to Brighthelmstone, was dated Tottenham-court, June 2, 1766: “How glad (he says) will the noble Countess be of the intended visit! How will the hearts, both of the visited and the visitors, be made to burn within them!” Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Romaine were at Brighton and Oathall during the visit of Mr. and Mrs. Powys, and on their departure Mr. Venn and Sir Charles Hotham arrived. The two latter proceeded from Brighton to Bath, where they were met by Mr. Howel Harris, to whom Sir Charles was introduced by Lady Huntingdon; he accompanied them to Trevecca, whence, just before his departure with Sir Charles and Captain Wilson for Berwick, the residence of Mr. Powys, he wrote the following letter to Lady Huntingdon:--
“Trevecca, Nov. 30, 1766.
“Dear Madam--The favour of yours, by Sir Charles, I began immediately to answer; and then again another; but your last coming before I could send either, I can only now say, it is my real cross that it is not in my power to come directly myself, instead of sending this, to offer, with all my readiness, any little assistance I am able. When yours came to hand, our Saviour had been just laying your matters on my heart in an earnest spirit of intercession, as he often does, notwithstanding the backwardness of my pen. And on my laying the contents of your letter before those that help me here, Evan Moses said that your matters had been of late laid often, more than usual, on his heart, to wrestle with God for you, &c. &c. &c.; and they would all have consented to my coming directly to Sussex, but that I had, above a fortnight ago, sent to publish a long round, which I begin this week, of about fifteen opportunities, where several thousands, I expect, will attend, and several of the places I never was in before. And I had been laying it before the Lord before I sent, and we were all in conscience afraid of disappointing so many. And on laying it again before the Lord, it seemed clearly to be his mind I should go this round; and as soon as I return I trust our Saviour will help me to come to Sussex.
“I hope to commemorate our Saviour’s circumcision and entrance on his sufferings with your Ladyship at Brighton; and to set out from hence as soon as I return from my journey, in which (when you find that nothing should have kept me from complying immediately with your request, but being bound in spirit, as well as conscience and truth) I am sure you will hold up my hands, and follow me with your prevalent prayers of faith; and that I may be counted worthy to contribute some weak help to your Ladyship, in your well-meant labours for the glory of the Redeemer and the good of a dark, ungrateful age.
“My wife, and Hannah, and Betty, Evan Moses, and Jerry Pritchard, all join in most grateful regards to your Ladyship; and are so far from hindering me, that they are sorry that I can’t come directly; and all feel a oneness between your work and ours, and that your cares and burdens are ours.
* * * * *
“Will you believe me if I say I shall feel the time long till the Lord, I trust, will bring me to Brighthelmstone? Your Ladyship’s most unworthy, but affectionate and obliged humble servant,
“HOWEL HARRIS.”
Mr. Fletcher went from Brighton to London, “where (says Mr. Whitefield) he became a scandalous Tottenham-court preacher.” Lady Huntingdon followed him to London, and Mr. and Mrs. Powys went on a visit to Mr. Venn, in Yorkshire. To that place Lady Huntingdon addressed the following letter:--
“My dear Madam--As I have no expectation of seeing you again, from the uncertainty of all things on earth, which suffers us not to call anything our own that time possesses us of, I could not forbear communicating my sentiments of love and tender regard to you and Mr. Powys, hoping that the conviction that will follow from them will be sufficient to assure you how glad I should be to wait upon you, though the interposition of Providence may prevent my ever having that opportunity. I really mean that my friendships, visits, conversation, with every intercourse of mankind, should lead to but one end. I don’t mean by this merely the necessary consistency required of a religious profession, or the splendid appearances of a devout (or sanctimonious) character. O no! these the poorest and blindest hypocrite may excel in; but the knowledge of truth, essentially and effectually distinguished from all the plausible opinions about it, is my all.
“These words in your letter struck me with a simplicity I loved--‘All I know is, that I am exceedingly ignorant, and have need to be taught as a little child.’ To this real disposition is all truth eminently and specially addressed; and without this kind of docility we must remain where we were. I don’t suppose you consider it needful to become so, as to man; but are you so before Him who alone can teach, guide, and lead into all truth? Read from the 25th verse to the end of the 14th chapter of St. Luke, and see if, out of that great multitude that followed Him, you would have rejoiced when he turned and said to them, ‘If any man come to me, and hate not,’ &c., ‘he cannot be my disciple;’ for we hear of none that chose him out of that multitude; and in what a state of preparation for heavenly things must that heart have been that could have embraced him, in his low and despised estate, so highly as to fly from all things else, nearest and dearest, as hateful, to follow Him. Is, then, this the disposition of your heart, my dearest Madam? This was not said to apostles, or eminently chosen instruments, but if any man come to me. Should this be our Saviour’s first lesson to your heart, and it is truly in this child-like disposition, you will naturally forego every hindrance--you will embrace the summons, leaving all behind joyfully; if not, you will reason, and find out how wise you are in accommodating these highest privileges of his Gospel with securing to yourself (from worldly prudence) every comfort he would call you from the enjoyment of, and rest in the consolation, doctrinally, of the sufficiency of his sacrifice for sinners. Such, dearest Madam, is the blindness and deceitfulness of our hearts; whereas, true faith in that sacrifice calls upon all for the sacrifice of their all, in testimony of their faith; and whenever we see a sincere heart, though overrun with weakness, unbelief, &c., as Peter and others, yet we find them brought through all to the point their simple hearts truly aimed at; therefore we have no reason to be discouraged at anything we are not now, as he first works in us to will, and then to do, of his own good pleasure. But the reserves willingly held at the bottom of the heart, and not being alive or awake upon the necessity of this condition of the mind, or by evading the force of these truths, by arguments drawn from Scripture, with art, to satisfy the poor foolish heart--this, of all states, appears to be the worst sort--these are those that are ever learning, and never coming to the knowledge of the truth, and carry the savour of death with them wherever they go.
“A lady of great quality I knew, that had most serious and religious sentiments, and of this world, in person, fortune, family, friends, &c. an uncommon share: a gentleman who was well acquainted with her, and saw the snares that would beset her, in order to prevent the solid experience of the truth, dealt most plainly with her, and showed her the consequence of a divided heart: it gave her great pain for a time; but at and before her death she often would cry out, ‘O what great, what unspeakable obligations do I now feel for that dear and faithful friend who dealt so plainly with me:’ and, indeed, her death was the most blessed proof of that solid and most substantial evidence she had of future glory: for mortality was swallowed up of life visibly to others.
“It is this sort of friends I feel I want for myself, who will ever contend with every false rest 1 would set up; and with faith and zeal be hastening my slow and lazy steps through this rough wilderness of woe; such it only is to pilgrims--they cannot take up with what is in it, yet loiter in that way, when faith and love would make them wings to soar upon.
* * * * *
“Thus, my dearest Madam, may you and I practically know, understand, and follow, by the guidance of the Spirit of truth, the meaning and intent of all religious truths revealed in the Bible; unless this is the case, we are, and shall be found, the sounding brass, and nothing better. To our great Prophet, Priest, and King may we ever trust and commit ourselves, and in his arms of love and mercy may we be found, when nothing else but the merits of his death shall fill heaven and our hearts with his praises. I am, dearest Madam, your much obliged friend and obedient humble servant,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
“To Mrs. Powys.
Mr. Whitefield at the same time wrote to Mr. Powys, congratulating him on having around him four Methodist preachers;[187] “enough (he observes) when Jesus says, ‘Loose them and let them go,’ to set a whole kingdom on fire for God.” “Our truly noble mother in Israel (he continues, adverting to the Countess) is come to London, full of the scars of Christian honour: crescit sub pondere virtus. Happy they who have the honour of her acquaintance.”
In February, Howel Harris came to London, and, after preaching for Mr. Whitefield several times, went down to Brighton to the Countess. This was a favourite place of resort to the good Lady Huntingdon, and there she had opened her first chapel, which had so prospered, that she now found it necessary considerably to enlarge the building. Accordingly, on the 20th of March, she gathered her chaplains around her, and the enlarged chapel was re-opened. On the 19th her Ladyship had devoted several hours to solemn and solitary prayer, wrestling with God for a blessing on this house which she had reared to him;[188] and that night a prayer meeting had been held in her own house for the same purpose. On the day of opening, Mr. Whitefield preached from 2 Peter iii. 18, “But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ: to him be glory both now and for ever. Amen.” Mr. Madan preached in the forenoon, and Mr. Whitefield in the evening, and vast crowds assembled, and heard as if deeply affected.
Mr. Fletcher, under date of Madely, March 16th, 1767, acknowledges her Ladyship’s intimation concerning the chapel, “her Ladyship’s comfortable and profitable letter,” which he waits to answer until he can enter into the spirit of her favourite Mary; but he says, “I am a stupid sinner still--to say all in one word, I am myself still;” and he continues to paint his own struggles for power in the manner of several of his former letters. Mr. Venn, he says, on his way from Yorkshire to Bath, brought him the intelligence that Mr. Harris had visited her Ladyship, and had promised to visit Madely on his return. “Jones (he writes) has told me that he preached in your Ladyship’s chapel, and he mentions Mrs. Hill and Mr. and Mrs. Powys as having profited by their visit to London and her Ladyship.”
Mr. Harris addressed her Ladyship from Trevecca, in a very energetic letter, on the very day of the opening at Brighton:--
“I am this morning happy (he says) in viewing the glory that I am sure is this day among you at Brighthelmstone. My prayer is that your bow may ever abide in strength--that your faith may never fail--and that the sacred fire may be ever blazing in your heart, life, and pen, without which all our light is but mere death and darkness.”
He promises to be in Bath in May, and adds, that he has prevailed on Mr. Hart and Mr. Jones to be there, but that Mr. Jesse did not well receive his remonstrance.
“Mr. Romaine (he says) did not preach as I would wish; Mr. Madan spoke much against Sandeman (Haweis being present). You have heard, I suppose, of my calling at Lord Dartmouth’s, and seeing there Stillingfleet, Talbot, and Powys; and Lady Gertrude Hotham’s--Sir Charles--Mrs. Cartwright and Miss Cavendish; and of what passed at Bath, of my speaking to a society-fellowship with Lady Anne, and expounding at Lord Buchan’s?” &c.
“If this comes to hand before the meeting breaks up, I beg my warmest love to all, being really present there among you in my spirit, and crying that all there may be indeed devoted to the Lord. O how few, my dear Madam, mind Him alone! having no object or care but Him! Sure he is but little really known, else all the family would have but one heart, one voice, one cry, one song, and one joy! But stop--He does not despise the day of small things, and we should bless him that it is a day of small things now, and that the day-star begins to rise on a dark, fallen, benighted land.”
He concludes with a remembrance to Miss Orton, Mrs. Turner, and the whole society. Mr. Romaine writes from Lambeth, on the 26th of the month, thus:--
“Honoured Madam--I was, according to your Ladyship’s request, at your meeting, and waited on you in spirit, with my prayers, which I have offered up, and shall offer up, for a blessing upon it. I informed Mrs. Cartwright and Mrs. Cavendish that this was the only way in which I could be present with you. My curate has left me. I am without an assistant, and cannot hear of one. The parochial duty tires me quite, and I would not go through it, but that I am perfectly satisfied it was the will of God I should have this church. I never durst take the cure of souls. Several years ago Lord Dartmouth offered me the living of Bromwich, where his seat is. I refused, never intending to burden myself with such a heavy charge. Since that time I have frequently refused the like offer. When Blackfriars was vacant, I was put up without my knowledge, being then in Yorkshire. And I would never meddle with the election; but it was carried on, and succeeded, against mine own will. As sure as ever any man had a call from heaven, this was one. I have been long satisfied of this: and, therefore, I may not reason nor now complain. My time is short; I must up and be doing; for I have a home prospect, bounded in very narrow limits. I must go briskly on with my work, leaving it to my Lord to find me strength for it, and success in it; his blessing I expect here, and for ever: not for anything done at Blackfriars; and yet I would labour as hard as if heaven were to be the reward of my labours. When I was allowed more time and liberty, I gladly laid them out in your part of the vineyard, and what I can spare so I hope to do again. The people are very dear to me at Brighton and Oathall, having been so much with them, and personally acquainted with most of their experiences. I shall be amongst you in all your meetings, and shall keep up with you the communion of saints. May much life and power be with ministers and people, and may the chapel be consecrated anew by the presence and glory of the Lord Jesus, which have so often filled it. All, with you, share in my best wishes. I am, with great affection, in the bond of all union, your faithful servant and friend,
“W. ROMAINE.”
In April, 1767, Lady Huntingdon and Miss Orton went from Brighton to Bath, and thence through Wales into Yorkshire. Her Ladyship was much occupied in arrangements for her college at Trevecca. In the summer of 1768, she was again at Brighton. “Her only view in Sussex (says Mr. Romaine) is to carry glad tidings to a wretchedly ignorant people. He has hitherto prospered her design, and while he smiles upon it I believe she will never give it up.” The Rev. W. Talbot,[189] vicar of St. Giles’s, Reading, accompanied her Ladyship into Sussex. He and his wife were pious and excellent persons, and were both venerated by the congregations of the Countess.
About this time her Ladyship wrote two kind and consoling letters to Mr. Berridge, who was alarmingly ill; as he expressed it, laid on the ground as “flat as a flounder.” His letter is the most admirable description of a disease and its effects that can be conceived, but couched in the most figurative and extraordinary language. He excuses his declining her Ladyship’s invitation to visit her, by pleading that he has no coat fit to appear in out of Everton, and concludes by asking her to patch his coat by a small bank bill. Her Ladyship immediately complied with his request, and forwarded a sum for the relief of his necessities.[190] He afterwards grew worse, and sent to her Ladyship to borrow a “Gospel baker” (a minister), lest his parishioners should perish for want of bread.
After the dedication of the chapel at Tunbridge Wells, Lady Huntingdon proceeded to Lewes, accompanied by Mr. De Courcy, who preached twice to very large congregations in the open air. From thence her Ladyship went to Brighton, where she made but a short stay, and leaving Mr. De Courcy to supply the chapels there and at Oathall, returned to Tunbridge Wells, where she continued till the month of August, when she took a journey into Wales, to attend the approaching anniversary of her college. Here Mr. De Courcy laboured with great zeal, truthfulness, and success. He did not confine himself to the ordinary routine of labours on the Sabbath and week days, but occasionally went from “house to house, teaching and preaching Jesus Christ.” He also held a meeting for the purpose of praying with the society, and hearing them declare what God had done for their souls. On these occasions he was peculiarly useful in speaking “a word in season” to the weary, heavy laden, troubled, tempted, and distressed soul. The great Head of the Church did not suffer him to labour in vain, but gave him many souls as seals to his ministry, some of whom fell asleep in Jesus before him, and would doubtless welcome him to the realms of eternal day.
The following letter expresses Mr. De Courcy’s admiration of her Ladyship, and details his labours in her service and that of the Lord:--
“Honoured Madam--It has been matter of concern to me that I have not been able fully to answer your Ladyship’s most affectionate favour of the 16th instant sooner; but I am confident you will readily pardon my delay, when I inform your Ladyship that my dear Lord and Master has honoured me with such constant employ in his service that I have really wanted leisure.
“It affords me inexpressible satisfaction to find that my poor services in the Gospel are at all acceptable to your Ladyship; and it is matter of deep self-abasement that the Lord is pleased to render them so agreeable, and a little profitable to the dear, dear people amongst whom I labour. O my Lady! could I give your Ladyship a window in my breast, to discover the secret workings of my heart, you would see, through much vileness and imperfection, that disinterested love for the propagation of the Gospel, and ardent gratitude to the Lord for placing me under your Ladyship’s wing, and the sweet constraining motions that prompt me to spend and be spent in the Sussex work. I can, in my present situation, join issue with the Psalmist, and say, ‘The lots have fallen to me in a fair place; yea, I have a goodly heritage!’ I am thankful, unfeignedly thankful, to your Ladyship for honouring an unworthy creature so far as to send him to a people among whom the Lord resides, and to whom I feel myself so united, that a separation from them would be a very keen trial.
“Since your Ladyship heard from me last, I have been at Hust, a town distant about five miles from Ditchling. From reports, we had a prospect of a severe persecution, but that promise, ‘Fear not, for I am with thee--be not dismayed, for I am thy God,’ &c., kept my heart at perfect peace. Many friends from Ditchling, Oathall, Brighthelmstone, &c. &c., accompanied me. As soon as we made our appearance in the streets, the whole town was in a commotion, as if invaded by some foreign enemy. It was with much difficulty I could get a chair to stand on. I proceeded in the first hymn and prayer, and a little of my discourse, without interruption, but in a short time some laughed, some shouted, others brought out a table with liquor, and began to sing round it, whilst others blew a horn: and while I invited the inhabitants of Hust freely to drink of the water of life, a poor sinner came to me with a mug of ale in his hand, begging I would drink of his liquor. In the midst of all this the Lord made me as bold as a lion, so that I was enabled to bear an awful testimony against these scoffers, and had the pleasure to see many of them so far cut down by the word that they were silent for some time. But after I had preached about forty minutes, the uproar was so great that I was obliged to desist, concluding with a hymn. Towards the close of my discourse my bowels yearned so over these poor creatures, that I could have wept tears of blood for their precious souls. However, notwithstanding the tumult, many were deeply attentive, and much affected; and I have since heard that a man in the town has made an offer of any part of his house for us to meet in, whenever we go again. I am very confident the Lord will have a people in Hust, and feel a longing desire to pay it another visit.
“Last Sunday se’nnight I went to a place called Hellingby, twenty miles from hence. A man who lives near the place, and is a pretender to Christianity, invited me down by a letter, which he sent to one of the society here, wherein he represented the parish as wholly destitute of a minister, alleging that the curate was dismissed, and that the rector would not supply his place. Thinking this a fair opportunity for the introduction of the Gospel, I left this the Saturday after I saw the letter, to go to Hellingby. In the way I called on this man, and found, to my great astonishment, that the greatest part of this letter was palpably false, for the rector was then come. In short, he was quite indifferent, and would not own us. This was indeed a trial; but I remember it was strongly impressed on my mind that the Lord suffered this for some wise ends; therefore faith looked to that promise--‘All things shall work together for good;’ and patience waited its fulfilment in this affair. On Sunday morning I waited on the minister. When he found I had some connexion with your Ladyship he would not admit me into his church. I returned, very much resigned, to a few friends from Brighthelmstone, &c., who accompanied me to a place called Laughton, where I stood up under a branching venerable tree, and preached to a very sweet attentive congregation, though not very numerous. We stood on an eminence, and made the hills and vales re-echo with the praises of the Lamb. It was a blessed season. Many were much affected, and after I had concluded, begged hard for one sermon more. I have given them a promise, and hope soon to fulfil it, for I long once more to stand under that same tree. The work in Sussex calls aloud for more labourers. It is impossible for me to give your Ladyship any idea of the universal thirst there is for the Gospel, on every side of us, in the country parts. Every time I preach at Oathall people come to me, and cry out, like persons famishing with hunger and begging a morsel of bread--‘Oh, Sir, won’t you come to such a place?’ Indeed, I wish it were in my power to supply every place, but my calls are so various that it is quite impracticable. I think Mr. Harman computed ten or twelve different parts to which we have been invited. I pray that the Lord may send us some help. I think Sussex seems to be on fire: and though the devil strives to extinguish the sacred flame, yet, glory be to God, it receives additional strength from every fresh flood poured on it, and burns the brighter. The Lord is reviving his work in the hearts of some here who have lost ground; he blesses us in every meeting. Yesterday was one of the days of the Son of Man. Oathall church was as full as it could hold, and the Lord was in the midst of us. The word was as a fire. I preached at eight in the morning five miles from Oathall--at eleven, at Oathall--at six, at Brighthelmstone; and the Lord gave me such strength of body and spirit that he enabled me to go through the whole like a giant refreshed with new wine. I really felt no more lassitude of spirit or fatigue of body than if I had not spoken a word the whole day. That promise, ‘As thy day is, so shall thy strength be,’ was my support, and was literally fulfilled to me. O my Lady! what a Master do we serve! What an ample reward does he give us even here! How sweet is his service!
“My Lord and Lady Sussex were at chapel yesterday evening, and seemed vastly attentive. I received this day a heart-reviving cordial of an epistle from dear Mr. Whitefield. He rejoices in the prospect of being with your Ladyship this summer at Tunbridge Wells. Your Ladyship is pleased to ask me what you shall do about my ordination. This I answer--I am certain your Ladyship will do whatever is our Lord’s will, and therefore do not presume to prescribe. I bless God, my mind is perfectly calm and resigned concerning this matter. The ordination of the Great Bishop of Souls is infinitely more valid than that of any creature. I feel much gratitude to the Lord, and am inexpressibly thankful to your Ladyship for my present comfortable situation. The free offer you make of being the friend of all my wants is more than I desire; and all the requital I can make is to pray that the Lord may reward you sevenfold into your own bosom. May the Lord Jesus bear all your burdens! May he crown your labours with abundant success, and give your Ladyship to see the travail of your Redeemer’s soul in the conversion of many souls! But I must at length conclude, with most affectionate respects to Lady Buchan, Lady Anne, Miss Orton, &c., your Ladyship’s much obliged and most dutiful servant,
“RICHARD DE COURCY.
“Brighthelmstone, June 26, 1769.
“P.S.--If it were not inconvenient, I should be glad to be permitted to lie at your Ladyship’s house; for, being obliged to go out warm after preaching, I risk my health. I hope your Ladyship will pardon this freedom.”
Mr. De Courcy was extremely popular at this period. And so much was he esteemed in the chapels of the Countess, that multitudes flocked from every quarter to hear him; and the Chief Shepherd, who had furnished him with great gifts, condescended to bless them, for the awakening, quickening, and reviving the souls of many, especially of young persons. “Surely, my Lady (writes Mr. Fletcher), you have found at last a man altogether after your Ladyship’s heart, in Mr. De Courcy; yea, and a man after the Lord’s own heart, whom he is pleased to honour.”
The winter of 1769 Lady Huntingdon spent in London. The first day of the year 1770 her Ladyship set apart for the exercise of abstinence--for the duties of impartial examination, humiliation, and renewed dedication of herself to God. In the morning she was much profited under a sermon from Isaiah xxxv. 3: “Strengthen ye the weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees.” The preacher was the Rev. Andrew Kinsman, of Plymouth, then supplying the Tabernacle and Tottenham-court Chapel--a man held in great estimation by her Ladyship and Mr. Whitefield. In the evening she heard Mr. Romaine at the Lock Chapel, from those striking words in the prophecies of Jeremiah--“This year thou shalt die.” From a letter written partly on the evening of this day, but not concluded for some days after, we extract the following passages, which detail the causes of her sorrows, and from whence arose her joys:--
“---- I am but just returned from the Lock, where I heard a profitable sermon from dear Mr. Romaine, on that awful passage--‘This year thou shalt die.’ If the Lord shall see fit to remove me hence during the year just commenced, may my worthless soul be numbered with the redeemed before the throne. Of late I have enjoyed much intimate fellowship with the Father and the Son, and the Holy Spirit has frequently witnessed with my spirit that I am his child. This has caused me to rejoice with joy unspeakable. Truly I can set up my Ebenezer, saying, ‘Hitherto the Lord hath helped me.’ During the year that is gone he appeared wonderfully in my behalf; and has repeatedly given me to find it is not in vain to trust him. Nevertheless, I am keenly penetrated with a sense of my own utter helplessness, nothingness, and depravity. Oh! the desperate deceitfulness of the human heart! What depths of depravity are within! I am a very Judas, ready to betray my Lord and Master, and did not mighty grace prevent, would have been a traitor long since. But the Lord is still merciful and gracious, and, though often provoked, has not yet forsaken me. Through mercy I still hold fast my confidence. My anchor is fixed, and the Lord Jesus is my wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption; and with the apostle I am enabled to forget those things which are behind, and reach forth to those things which are before.”
But whilst inward consolation abounded, outward trials and disappointments increased. But He who is rich in mercy knew what she was able to bear, and proportioned her sufferings to her strength. In many places where she was instrumental in planting the Gospel standard, great success attended the first promulgation of divine truth, and much life and zeal glowed in the hearts of those who received the truth in the love of it. But after a season the scene changed, and deadness seemed to spread over the work. To some such complaints of her Ladyship, Mr. Berridge thus replies, under the date of Everton, January 9, 1770:--
“You complain that every new work, after a season, becomes a lifeless work. And was it not in the beginning as it is now? Do not the Acts and Epistles show that the primitive Churches much resembled our own? In their infancy we find them of one heart and soul, having all things common; but presently read of partiality in the distribution of their Church stock, then of eager and lasting contentions about circumcision, coupling Moses with Jesus, and setting the servant on a level with his master. And Gentile Churches were much on a footing with Jewish. The Corinthians soon fell into parties about their leaders, into errors about the resurrection, and into many gross immoralities. The Galatians seemed ready at first to present Paul with their own eyes, but grew desirous at last of plucking out his. The Ephesians had been much tossed with winds of doctrine. The Colossians had fallen into will worship, &c.; and the Thessalonians had some of our gossips among them who would not work, but sauntered about picking up news and telling tales. St. Paul’s labours were much employed in Asia, and many Churches were gathered there; yet I hear him complaining in a certain place, ‘that all they in Asia were turned aside from him.’ The General Epistles, which were written late, unanimously show that errors and corruptions had broke into all Churches during the apostle’s life-time: and the seven Epistles dictated by Jesus in the Revelation confirm the same. Scripture mentions a former and a latter rain: between which there must of course be an interval of drought and barrenness. The former rain falls just after seed-time; when there is plenty of manna coming down from above, plenty of honey flowing out of the rock, and plenty of joyful hosannahs rising up to Jesus. After this rain comes the interval; during which most of the stony and thorny grounds sheer off, taking a final leave of Jesus; and the good grounds are scarcely discernible, so barren they appear and full of weeds, and so exceedingly cold and swampy. Now one soars up into the cloud of perfection, crying out, ‘I am a queen!’ and becomes the devil’s goddess. Another falls asleep and snores hard in election; God’s truth, indeed, is often made the devil’s cradle. A third drops plump into a pond, and then keeps roaming day and night about the devil’s wash-pot. A fourth gets bemired in the world, and lies quite contented, though nearly choked in the devil’s quagmire. At length the Lord ariseth in just indignation to chastise and vex his people, continuing his plagues till he has broken their bones and humbled their hearts, causing them to see, and feel, and loathe their backslidings, and raising up a sigh and a cry in their hearts for deliverance. Then comes the latter rain to revive and settle; after which they learn to walk humbly with God.”
Some time during the month of January her Ladyship paid a visit to that very venerable man, Vincent Perronet, vicar of Shoreham, in Sussex, who had but just recovered from a long illness--a man certainly entitled, on various accounts, to a conspicuous place amongst the brightest ornaments of the Christian Church in the last century. For though he was possessed of talents and accomplishments which would have qualified him to have filled any station with dignity, and his connexions in life were such that he had good reason to expect considerable preferment; yet as soon as the glorious light of the Gospel visited his mind, he instantly renounced every prospect of temporal advantage, counting all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord; and from that moment he unreservedly devoted himself to the glory of his Redeemer and the interests of the Church militant.
With Lady Huntingdon, Mr. Perronet had occasionally corresponded, but till this period never had a personal interview with her Ladyship, who was much impressed with the manly and exalted nature of his piety, his Christian courtesy, and the cheerfulness and sweetness of his disposition and deportment. “A most heavenly man (says her Ladyship), with the most lively piety, joined with the profoundest humility and ardent concern for the salvation of the people committed to his charge.” And as he was one of the most aged ministers of Christ in the kingdom, so he was inferior to none, either in the fervour of his spirit, the simplicity of his manners, or the ancient hospitality of the Gospel. At the same time, those who were favoured with his friendship can never forget the delicacy and refinement of his sentiments, and the frankness and generosity of his temper--qualities which are not to be expected but from great and liberal minds.
Lady Huntingdon was accompanied by Mr. Wesley, who remained at Shoreham a few days, whilst her Ladyship proceeded to Tunbridge Wells, to regulate some affairs connected with her chapel there. From thence she went to Brighton and Oathall, where Mr. Romaine had arrived a day or two before. Her Ladyship returned to her residence, in Portland-row, in the month of February. On Tuesday, the 6th, Mr. Wesley administered the sacrament at her house for the last time. Mr. Maxfield preached and spoke strongly against Perfection, a doctrine Mr. Wesley contended for at this time with much zeal. The following week, however, he was again at her Ladyship’s house, when Mr. Talbot, of Reading, administered the Lord’s Supper, and Mr. Browne, of Olney, preached; after which Mr. Wesley concluded with prayer and the usual benediction.
For some weeks Mr. Talbot and Mr. Browne administered the sacrament and preached alternately at her Ladyship’s, assisted by Mr. Maxfield, Mr. Green, and Mr. Foster, then curate and lecturer of St. Ann’s, Blackfriars. Early in March, Mr. Romaine returned to London, and on the 5th accompanied her Ladyship to Reading, where she remained a few days with her excellent friends, Mr. and Mrs. Talbot. On the 9th she reached Bristol, where Mr. Romaine preached twice on Sunday, the 11th. The next day she went to Bath, and the following evening Mr. Romaine preached in the chapel to a very large and serious congregation. Passing through Stroud and Painswick, she arrived at Cheltenham, Wednesday, the 14th. Being refused the use of the parish church, Mr. Romaine addressed a numerous body of people in a large school-room, where Mr. Madan, Mr. Talbot, and others had occasionally preached some years before. On the 16th her Ladyship left Cheltenham for Oxford; and the following day reached Reading, where she remained till Monday, Mr. Romaine having engaged to preach on the Sunday for Mr. Talbot. After spending two days in London, Lady Huntingdon set off for Brighton on the 22nd, accompanied by Lady Anne Erskine, Miss Orton, and Mr. Maxfield.
On the 26th her Ladyship received the following letter from Mr. Berridge, in answer to one she had lately written him, at the close of which he makes a slight allusion to the disappointment she experienced at this time by the withdrawment of Mr. De Courcy from her Ladyship’s patronage and Connexion--
“Everton, March 23, 1770.
“My Lady--Your letter just suited my case: it was a bleeding plaster for a bleeding heart. These many months I have done little else but mourn for myself and others, to see how we lie among the tombs, contented with a decent suit of grave-clothes. At times my heart has been refreshed with these words, ‘On the land of my people is come up briars and thorns, until the Spirit be poured out upon them from on high;’ but the comfort soon vanisheth, like gleams of a winter sun. I cannot wish for transports, such as we once had, and which almost turned our heads; but I do long to see a spirit poured forth of triumphant faith, heavenly love, and steadfast cleaving to the Lord.
“Before I parted with honest Glascott, I cautioned him much against petticoat snares. He has burnt his wings already. Sure he will not imitate a foolish gnat, and hover again about the candle? If he should fall into a sleeping-lap, he will soon need a flannel night-cap, and a rusty chain to fix him down, like a church bible to the reading-desk. No trap so mischievous to the field-preacher as wedlock, and it is laid for him at every hedge corner. Matrimony has quite maimed poor Charles,[191] and might have spoiled John[192] and George,[193] if a wise Master had not graciously sent them a brace of ferrets. Dear George has now got his liberty again, and he will escape well if he is not caught by another tenterhook.
“Eight or nine years ago, having been grievously tormented with housekeepers, I truly had thoughts of looking out for a Jezebel myself. But it seemed highly needful to ask advice of the Lord. So, falling down on my knees before a table, with a Bible between my hands, I besought the Lord to give me a direction; then letting the Bible fall open of itself, I fixed my eyes immediately on these words, ‘When my son was entered into his wedding chamber he fell down and died.’ (2 Esdras x. 1). This frightened me heartily, you may easily think; but Satan, who stood peeping at my elbow, not liking the heavenly caution, presently suggested a scruple, that the book was Apocryphal, and the words not to be heeded. Well, after a short pause, I fell on my knees again, and prayed the Lord not to be angry with me, whilst, like Gideon, I requested a second sign, and from the canonical Scripture; then letting my Bible fall open as before, I fixed my eyes directly on this passage, ‘Thou shalt not take thee a wife, neither shalt thou have sons or daughters in this place.’ (Jer. xvi. 2). I was now completely satisfied; and being thus made acquainted with my Lord’s mind, I make it one part of my prayers. And I can look on these words, not only as a rule of direction, but as a promise of security--‘Thou shalt not take a wife’--that is, I will keep thee from taking one.
“This method of procuring divine intelligence is much flouted by flimsy professors,[194] who walk at large, and desire not that sweet and secret access to the mercy-seat which babes of the kingdom do find. During the last twelve years I have had occasion to consult the oracle three or four times, on matters that seemed important and dubious, and have received answers full and plain. Was not this the practice of the Jewish Church? God gave laws and statutes to them, as well as to us; but when dubious cases arose they consulted the oracle, which gave directions how to act. Joshua and Israel are blamed for not consulting the oracle before they made a league with the Gibeonites. Yea, in the patriarchal times we find Rebecca enquiring of the Lord concerning her twins; and are there not now, as well as formerly, many dubious cases? And can we think that God will deny that direction to the Christian Church which he freely granted to the Jewish? Is not access to the mercy-seat more free and more open than before? I believe perplexed cases are often sent on purpose to teach us to enquire of the Lord. But leaving the oracles of God, we make an oracle of man. A dozen wise heads are consulted, and their sparkling opinions usually prove as various as the colours of the rainbow. Thus we are plunged into greater perplexity than before: a very proper chastisement for our folly! At my first setting out, I trudged on in this old, beaten, dirty track, and many wise folks perplexed me soundly, as I, in my turn, have perplexed yourself; witness the Welsh College. At length I found the method little better than ‘seeking to familiar spirits, and to wizards that peep and mutter; should not a people seek to their God?’ (Isaiah viii. 19). Daniel sought to his God, and got out the secret of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream. ‘O yes (cries a casuistical professor, one of Isaiah’s muttering wizards), but this was a most extraordinary case.’ True, and yet David affirms that the secret of the Lord is with all them that fear him. Where is faith? Buried under mountains, and not removing them. However, this oracular enquiry is not to be made on light and trifling occasions, and much less with a light and trifling spirit. Whoever consults the oracle aright will enter on the enquiry with the same solemnity as the high priest entered into the holy of holies; neither must this be done upon any day, but on a high day; not on trifling occasions, but on very important concerns. And whoever thus consults the word of God as his oracle, with a hearty desire to know and do God’s will, I believe he will receive due information. Some people, I am told, have had answers on their first enquiries, but afterwards have received no answer at all. The reason may easily be guessed. We begin our enquiries with momentous matters, and receive satisfaction; we naturally slide into matters of no moment, which are either plainly resolved by the word, or require only common faith and waiting; and thus we make the consultation matter of amusement, like the drawing a picture card out of a Scripture pack, which is not pleasing unto God; for, though he is willing to be consulted, he is not willing to be trifled with, and much less to be made the subject of amusement or diversion.”
From this time to the period of her decease Lady Huntingdon was frequent in her visits to Brighton and Oathall; and the labours of her Ladyship’s ministers were attended with such signal tokens of the divine favour, that the chapel at Brighton was soon found to be too small for the numbers who wished to attend. In the year 1774 it was taken down and rebuilt, chiefly at the expense of Miss Orton (afterwards Mrs. Haweis); and it is worthy to be here recorded, that several pious young men connected with the congregation, who were mechanics, gave their services at over-hours, in order to expedite the necessary work. The chapel was soon finished, and solemnly dedicated to God on the 24th of July, 1774, on which interesting occasion Mr. Romaine preached in the morning from 1 Kings viii. 11--“For the glory of the Lord had filled the house of the Lord;” and in the evening from John i. 14--“We behold the glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.”
The following year Mr. Toplady visited Brighton, where he found a “very considerable gathering to the standard of the cross.” His ministry was much blessed, and he was exceedingly attached to the people. “I have found (says he) much union with them, and the unction of the Holy One has given me much comfort and enlargement among them hitherto, in our public approaches to God.” Being a man of extensive knowledge, diversified talents, and great zeal--whose mind was enlarged by science, whose heart was expanded by the benevolent system of the Gospel, and whose aims were directed to the best and noblest ends, it is natural to suppose his discourses contained a rich body of evangelical truths, urged upon his hearers in a strong and forcible manner.[195]
“I have seldom ministered to a congregation (says he) for whom I have felt more real love and union of spirit. Communion with the saints is one of the sweetest privileges of the people of God; and this I have eminently enjoyed at Brighthelmstone, where there are very many precious souls whom I esteem as the excellent of the earth, and in whom the Lord delighteth.”
With Mr. Toplady was associated the Rev. Thomas Bliss, vicar of Ashford and Yarncombe, in Devonshire,[196] of whom he says, “Your Ladyship has done me an inestimable benefit by associating me with the amiable, the excellent, the zealous, the heavenly-minded Mr. Bliss, a pattern for believers, and particularly ministers of Jesus.”
At sixteen Mr. Bliss heard Mr. Romaine at Oxford, and was quite exasperated at his preaching; but soon afterwards hearing Dr. Haweis, his view of religion changed, and he became at that early age, what he ever afterwards remained, a true Christian. He left the University in 1760, and was introduced by Lady Huntingdon to Mr. Grimshaw, whom he assisted till he was appointed to the living of Ashford, near Barnstaple, in Devonshire, where he died in 1802. He was the life-long victim of nervous disease: a friend one day calling upon him, and asking him how he was, he replied, “I am tremblingly alive all over; every nerve is the seat of torture. Though, to lull my pains, I take opium enough every day to kill three strong men, the anguish I feel is so inconceivably excruciating, as can only be exceeded by suffering the flames of hell.” At other times he would frequently say, “My life is so unspeakably burthensome, that nothing short of the mighty power of God, and the support which real and experimental religion affords, could restrain me from laying violent hands on myself.” He died happily. A few days before his dissolution, he preached a sermon from his pillow, on “Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord,” with an astonishing energy and pathos. He might, on this occasion, have literally adopted the lines of the eminently pious Baxter--
“I preach as if I ne’er should preach again; And as a dying man to dying men.”
The Countess meanwhile extended on all sides the circle of her utility. Her oldest chaplain, Mr. Romaine, was her adviser and assistant on all occasions, and to him the younger ministers looked up with the highest reverence and affection, and his advice was always to bear with spiritual wickedness in high places, and to keep within the pale of the Church.
His true love and respect for the Church of England was in no wise lessened, nor did ever any man take more effectual pains to serve her, whether by his preaching or his advice. Many of his vacations were employed in her service, and he constantly travelled about with her Ladyship, preaching the doctrine of the kingdom. Sussex and Hampshire enjoyed much of the fruits of these excursions.
The labours of Mr. Romaine, and of those men of God who united with him in “holding forth the word of life,” were truly astonishing. They were not suffered to labour in vain, or spend their strength for nought, when called to go forth in the name of their Divine Master. His word directs--“In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that.”
The same ardent zeal animating Lady Huntingdon’s spirit, she embraced the offer of an individual at Chichester to occupy his house and try to diffuse in that city, and the region around it, the light of the Sun of Righteousness. Thither she went, with the ministers who laboured for her in the blessed work of spreading the everlasting Gospel. A chapel was soon erected, and opened by Mr. Pentycross. Mr. English, one of her Ladyship’s senior students, left it to take charge of a congregation at Gosport, of which the late Dr. Bogue was afterwards pastor. Mr. English had been labouring at Worcester, and from thence had been removed by Lady Huntingdon to Chichester. His ministry was generally acceptable, and he was favoured with encouragement and marks of usefulness. He was succeeded by Mr. Matthew Wilks, and then by the students of Trevecca in rotation. Two large chapels were soon after erected at the neighbouring village of Emsworth, and others at Petworth and Guildford. Such were the fruits of Lady Huntingdon’s labours at Chichester.
Great and illustrious, indeed, was the cause in which this venerable woman was engaged. Surveying the moral condition of mankind--the imperishable nature and unalterable destination of the human spirit--how feelingly does she lament the feebleness and insufficiency of the instrument in so divine a work, and the numberless imperfections which mingled with all her best services! Nevertheless, she cherished sensations of joy and thankfulness while she contemplated the glorious effects which, through such feeble and imperfect means, the power of the Almighty had accomplished. It was his Spirit which kindled this flame of divine charity, and, by his efficacious impulse in her heart, constrained her to unceasing exertions in scattering the precious seed of the everlasting Gospel in various parts of the kingdom, then desolate as the barren heath, but in succeeding generations producing plenteously the plants of righteousness, and the ripe fruits of grace and glory.
In 1755 a place of worship was opened by her Ladyship’s means at Basingstoke. After some years it was found too small and inconvenient for a rapidly increasing congregation, under the Rev. Thomas Thorne, one of her Ladyship’s ministers, who had settled there. About the year 1799 a new chapel was erected, capable of accommodating six hundred people, and opened for divine worship on the 11th of July, 1802. In the morning, Mr. Thorne, minister of the chapel, who was much attached to the use of the Liturgy of the Church of England, and enjoyed himself most where it was most esteemed, read the prayers of the Established Church; and the Rev. William Cooper, who was afterwards minister of her Ladyship’s chapel in Dublin, preached from Gen. xxviii. 16–17. Mr. Wilkins preached in the afternoon, and Mr. Cooper again in the evening. Mr. Thorne continued at Basingstoke about ten years.
In 1779 Mr. Wills had resigned his charge at St. Agnes, near Truro, in Cornwall, and had entered the Connexion of the Countess of Huntingdon, happy in travelling from town to town, and from city to city, to diffuse abroad the savour of that name which he loved. At the same time, Dr. Haweis, Mr. Glascott, and Mr. Taylor were frequent in their visits to Brighton and Oathall, and the other chapels of her Ladyship in the neighbourhood. In 1782 the congregation enjoyed the labours of the Rev. Edward Burn, minister of St. Mary’s, Birmingham.
In the year 1788 another alteration took place in the chapel at Brighton; a front gallery was erected by the voluntary subscriptions of several friends, chiefly for the accommodation of the Sunday-school: and in the year 1810–11 a further alteration was effected, by throwing open to the chapel a large parlour, by means of folding doors, principally for the accommodation of the visitors, building a fourth gallery for the poor and the children of the school, and erecting a minister’s vestry behind the pulpit. The chapel was now rendered a very commodious place of worship, and was capable of containing about a thousand persons. On the completion of this alteration, the Rev. Rowland Hill preached in the morning and evening, and the Rev. Mr. Whitefoot, of Enfield, delivered a discourse in the afternoon.
In the year 1822 it was deemed expedient again to enlarge the chapel, by enclosing a piece of ground at the south end, equal in size to rather more than half the ground floor in 1810; and on Sunday, the 19th April, 1822, the Rev. Rowland Hill again preached twice at the re-opening. The chapel is now considered sufficiently capacious to contain fifteen hundred persons, and is characterized by a neat and chaste simplicity throughout.
At Brighton and Oathall the Rev. Thomas Jones passed the last twenty-six years of his life, which closed September 15th, 1814. At that time he was the senior minister in Lady Huntingdon’s Connexion, having been admitted at Trevecca in 1769. How encouraging, how animating are these relations of the success attending the benevolent efforts of the noble Countess! The footsteps of Divine Providence, in the government of the world at large, are traced with devout attention by every real Christian; but those events which are visibly connected with the extension of the Saviour’s kingdom among men are observed with the most diligent and affectionate regard. To those who are the subjects of the great Redeemer the interests of pure and vital godliness are inexpressibly dear; and every advance towards the establishment of his gracious reign must be pleasing in the highest degree. The foregoing narrative hath furnished abundant evidence of the Lord’s gracious approbation of the various and zealous efforts of the ministers sent forth by her Ladyship, and, consequently, strong encouragement to those that remain to proceed with increasing diligence and vigour in this noble cause. O! how did the heart of the venerable Foundress of the Connexion glow with holy ardour for the honour of her Divine Lord, and for the salvation of lost sinners! And how was she constrained to employ all her powers, to exert all their vigour, to advance the same interests for which the Saviour’s companion prompted him to live and die! Much, very much indeed, remains to be done. The voice of the Great Leader and Commander is--GO FORWARD! The voice of an approving Providence is--Go forward!
Chapter XXIII
Public Fast--Extracts from Lady Huntingdon’s Letters--Prayer-meetings for the Nation--Mr. Venn--Mr. Berridge--Singular effects of his preaching--Mr. Romaine and Mr. Madan’s visit to Everton--Mr. Wesley preaches at Everton--Convulsive motions amongst the congregation--Letters to Lady Huntingdon--Lady Huntingdon visits Mr. Berridge--Mr. Venn and Mr. Fletcher preach at Everton--Loud cries amongst their hearers--Duke of York--Dr. Dodd--Murder of Mr. Johnson--Lord Ferrers--Tried by his Peers--Visited in prison by Lady Huntingdon--Singular conduct of Lord Ferrers--Execution.
At the commencement of the year 1759, we find Lady Huntingdon at Bath, accompanied by Lady Fanny Shirley and Lady Selina Hastings. On the 4th of January her Ladyship went to Bristol to meet Mr. Wesley, who accompanied her to Bath, and after preaching to several of the nobility at her house, proceeded to Salisbury, on his way to London.
Early in February, Lady Huntingdon returned to London; and Friday, the 16th, being the day appointed for a public fast, her Ladyship went to the Tabernacle to hear Mr. Whitefield, who addressed an immense congregation from those solemn words, “Rend your hearts, and not your garments,” &c. In the evening she heard Mr. Wesley at the Foundry, who preached to an overflowing multitude from “Seek the Lord while he may be found,” &c. Every place of public worship was crowded on this day, and an unusual air of seriousness pervaded all ranks.
“Surely (observes her Ladyship) the Lord has appeared remarkably for our sinful land. O that the prayers and supplications which so lately ascended from so many quarters may be heard and answered, and abundant blessings be poured down upon our sinful country! If our cup of iniquity is not yet full, gracious Lord, O spare us!--spare thy people, and hide them in the clefts of the Rock of Ages!”
Her Ladyship felt “a particular call in Providence” to wrestle mightily with God in behalf of our nation, and for the important work of intercession, prayer-meetings were established at her house. On Wednesday, the 21st of February, Mr. Whitefield, Mr. Charles Wesley, Mr. Maxfield, and Mr. Venn successively engaged in this solemn exercise; and on Friday, the 23rd, Mr. Romaine, Mr. Wesley, Mr. Madan, and Mr. Jones conducted the service at her Ladyship’s house, when a deep sense of the Divine presence seemed to penetrate every soul in attendance.
“I trust (says her Ladyship) great and permanent effects will follow, and national judgments be suspended. May the Lord graciously countenance this attempt, and grant that increasing prayer in the name of Jesus may ascend from every heart. Of late I have felt the most ardent desires for the exaltation of the Lord Jesus in every heart, and the most holy ardour of desire to promote his cause upon earth. I seem to have done nothing, and would lie down in the dust before him, and lament my unfaithfulness, my unprofitableness, and my unfruitfulness. May he increase my faith, animate my heart with a zeal for his glory, enlarge my sphere, and make me more faithful in the sphere in which I move.
“Thursday, the 27th (says Mr. Wesley), I walked, with my brother and Mr. Maxfield, to Lady Huntingdon’s. After breakfast, came in Messrs. Whitefield, Madan, Romaine, Jones, Downing, and Venn, with some persons of quality, and a few others. Mr. Whitefield, I found, was to have administered the sacrament, but he insisted upon my doing it: after which, at the request of Lady Huntingdon, I preached on 1 Cor. xiii. 13--”And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three--but the greatest of these is charity.”
On the evening of Wednesday, the 28th, the usual prayer-meeting was held at her Ladyship’s house, when Mr. Wesley, Mr. Venn, and Mr. Madan engaged in the solemn service, which was closed by a short exhortation from Mr. Whitefield. The following morning Mr. Jones preached, and Mr. Romaine concluded with a short scriptural prayer, and the usual benediction. At the prayer-meeting on Friday evening, Mr. Charles Wesley gave an address; and the other parts of the service were conducted by Messrs. Whitefield, Romaine, Downing, and Venn. The Lord’s Supper was administered on Tuesday, the 6th of March, by Mr. Whitefield, when he addressed the communicants in a most solemn and impressive manner. “All were touched to the heart (says her Ladyship), and dissolved in tears. My inmost soul felt penetrated at the height and depth of that love which passeth knowledge, and I was ready, with Peter, to say, ‘It is good to be here.’ Lord, teach me how to improve to the utmost these gracious visitations.”
Mr. Whitefield was assisted by Messrs. Romaine and Madan. The former prayed before and the latter after the distribution of the elements. Amongst the communicants were the Earl and Countess of Dartmouth, Countess of Chesterfield, Lady Gertrude Hotham, Sir Charles Hotham, Mrs. Carteret, Mrs. Cavendish, Sir Sidney Halford Smythe, Mr. Thornton, Rev. Messrs. Venn, Jones, Maxfield, Downing, and others. When this solemn service was concluded, the Earls of Chesterfield and Holderness, and several persons of distinction, with a few others, came in. Mr. Whitefield preached with his accustomed eloquence and energy from that passage--“Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.” “On this occasion (her Ladyship observes), The Lord was eminently present. The word seemed clothed with an irresistible energy, and drew sighs from every heart and tears from every eye. Mr. Fletcher concluded with a prayer, every syllable of which appeared to be uttered under the immediate teaching of the Spirit, and he has told me since that he never had more intimate communion with God, or enjoyed so much of his immediate presence, as on that occasion. Ah! how poor and trifling does all created good appear when thus highly favoured of God. He in mercy keeps me sensible of my weakness, and dependent upon himself, for which I praise him. He has strengthened my body to undergo more fatigue than usual, without being hurt by it. But my pen would fail to testify of the goodness of my God. Bless the Lord, O my soul! and forget not all his benefits.”
It was now that John Berridge, the vicar of Everton, in Bedfordshire, and Mr. Hicks, vicar of Wrestlingworth, by their preaching, produced the same convulsions in their hearers as had formerly prevailed at Bristol.[197]
Lady Huntingdon wrote to Mr. Romaine from Bath, requesting him and Mr. Madan to repair immediately to Everton, and examine minutely into the circumstances. They were warmly received by Mr. Berridge and Mr. Hicks. At first they were astonished, and for a time doubted whether the work was genuine; but after they had conversed with several of those who had fallen in violent convulsive fits, and had accompanied Mr. Berridge and Mr. Hicks in some of their itinerant excursions, and witnessed the effects of their preaching, they were filled with a solemn awe, and felt fully convinced the work was of God, though occasionally mingled with the wild-fire of enthusiasm.[198]
Filled with astonishment at what God had wrought, and at the surprising work which he was carrying on in the hearts of multitudes, Mr. Romaine and Mr. Madan returned to London, and Mr. Wesley went to Everton, who, after describing the cries and convulsions, says--
“I have often observed more or less of these outward symptoms to attend the beginning of a general work of God. So it was in New England, Scotland, Holland, Ireland, and many parts of England, but after a time they gradually decreased, and the work goes on more quietly and silently. Those whom it pleases God to employ in his work ought to be quite passive in this respect. They should choose nothing, but leave entirely to him all the circumstances of his own work.”
In a letter to Lady Huntingdon, Mr. Wesley says--
“The agreeable hour which I spent with your Ladyship the last week recalled to my mind the former times, and gave me much matter of thankfulness to the Giver of every good gift. I have found great satisfaction in conversing with those instruments whom God has lately raised up. But still there is I know not what in them whom we have known from the beginning, and who have borne the burden and heat of the day, which we do not find in those who have risen up since, though they are of upright heart. Perhaps, too, those who have but lately come into the harvest are led to think and speak more largely of justification, and the other first principles of the doctrine of Christ. And it may be proper for them so to do. Yet we find a thirst after something farther. We want to sink deeper and rise higher in the knowledge of God our Saviour. We want all helps for walking closely with Him whom we have received, that we may the more speedily come to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.
“Mr. Berridge appears to be one of the most simple as well as most sensible men of all whom it pleased God to employ in reviving primitive Christianity. I designed to have spent but one night with him; but Mr. Gilbert’s mistake (who sent him word I would be at Everton on Friday) obliged me to stay there another day, or multitudes of people would have been disappointed. They come now twelve or fourteen miles to hear him; and very few come in vain. His word is with power: he speaks as plain and home as John Nelson, but with all the propriety of Mr. Romaine and the tenderness of Mr. Hervey.
“At Colchester, likewise, the word of God has free course--only no house will contain the congregation. On Sunday I was obliged to preach on St. John’s-green; the people stood on a smooth sloping ground, sheltered by the walls of an old castle, and behaved as men who felt that God was there.
“I am persuaded your Ladyship still remembers in your prayers your willing servant, for Christ’s sake,
“JOHN WESLEY.”
Mr. Berridge informed Lady Huntingdon of his call to Cambridge, to preach before the University, complaining of his ill health and want of assistance in his own parish. Her Ladyship applied to Mr. Fletcher, who volunteered his service till Mr. Madan or Mr. Romaine could relieve him.
Soon after he had gone to Everton, Lady Huntingdon, accompanied by Mr. Madan, proceeded thither, anxious to witness the astonishing effects which had there resulted from the preaching of the Gospel. She had intimated her intention to Mr. Berridge some days before her departure from London, and on the morning after their arrival, at an early hour, an amazing concourse of people had been collected from all parts. At seven o’clock Mr. Berridge preached in a field near the church, when the power of God fell upon all the assembled multitude in a very uncommon manner. At eleven o’clock public service commenced in the church. Mr. Hicks read prayers, after which Mr. Venn explained the “joy that is in heaven over one sinner that repenteth.” In the afternoon, the church being unable to contain a fifth of the people, Mr. Madan stood in the open air and cried to the listening multitude, “If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink.” The following day there was a public service again: Mr. Fletcher read prayers, and Mr. Madan spoke very energetically on “Ye must be born again.” The congregation was immense, the windows being filled within and without. In the afternoon Mr. Berridge read prayers, and Mr. Venn enforced these solemn words on an attentive congregation--“This is life eternal, to know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent.” Great numbers, who were unable to gain admittance, remained about the church after the service was concluded: Mr. Berridge addressed them from the words of the prophet--“Seek the Lord while he may be found; call upon him while he is near.”
The arrival of Lady Huntingdon at Everton, and the preaching of the ministers who accompanied her, was quickly reported for many miles round, and awakened considerable attention, insomuch that on the following day it was judged ten thousand at least assembled to hear. While Mr. Venn was enforcing those awful words of the prophet--“The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved,” several persons, both men and women, sunk down and wept bitterly. In the afternoon a still greater multitude collected. The evening being calm and still, all heard distinctly, whilst Mr. Berridge preached on these words--“Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world.” Towards the close of the sermon, five persons, almost at once, sunk down as dead. Others cried with a loud and bitter cry, “What must we do to be saved?” In a little time all was silent, and Mr. Berridge finished his sermon, after which the service concluded with singing--
“Arm of the Lord, awake! awake! Thine own immortal strength put on,” &c.
Mr. Madan having consented to remain at Everton, to supply Mr. Berridge’s church till Mr. Romaine was at liberty to take his place, Lady Huntingdon returned to London with Mr. Fletcher, Mr. Venn, and Mr. Berridge, whom her Ladyship was desirous of introducing to the religious circles of the metropolis, with a view to his spiritual improvement. During his stay he preached two or three times in the city churches, assisted by Mr. Whitefield and the Messrs. Wesley, and expounded almost every morning and evening at Lady Huntingdon’s, besides his occasional lectures at Lady Gertrude Hotham’s, in New Norfolk-street, Grosvenor-square, and Lady Fanny Shirley’s, in South Audley-street.
It was about this time that Prince Edward, afterwards created Duke of York, paid a visit to the Magdalene. His Royal Highness having expressed a wish to attend the evening service, a party was formed at Northumberland House for that purpose. The Prince[199] was accompanied by Colonel Brudenel, Lady Northumberland, Lady Mary Coke, Lady Carlisle, Miss Pelham, Lady Hertford, Lord Beauchamp, Lord Huntingdon, and Horace Walpole. As soon as he entered the chapel the organ played, and a hymn was sung by the Magdalenes, about one hundred and thirty in number. After the prayers were read, Dr. Dodd preached an eloquent and impressive sermon from Luke xix. 20, which was afterwards published, by the express desire of the Prince; a hymn was then sung, after which his Royal Highness was conducted to the parlour, where the Governors kissed the Prince’s hand. He particularly noticed Lady Huntingdon and Lady Chesterfield, with whom he conversed for several minutes on the merits of the sermon and the excellence of the institution, expressed himself highly gratified at what he had witnessed, and at taking his departure left fifty pounds for the benefit of the institution.[200]
The dreadful calamity by which Lady Huntingdon’s family was afflicted in 1760 had a powerful effect on her Ladyship’s mind for a season. Lawrence, fourth Earl of Ferrers, eldest son of her uncle, the Hon. Lawrence Shirley, by a daughter of Sir Walter Clarges, of Aston, in Hertfordshire, Bart., though he was at times a very intelligent person, and a nobleman conversant in the constitution of his country, yet, on divers occasions, exhibited symptoms of constitutional insanity. For more than a twelvemonth he had supplied a topic for conversation by an attempt to murder his wife, and every body that took her part. Having broken the peace, which the House of Lords had bound him over to keep, the cause was again brought before them; but instead of attending it, he went to the assizes at Hertford to appear against a highwayman.[201] The Countess was sister to Sir W. Meredith, and had no fortune. The Earl always said she had trepanned him into matrimony, having met him at an assembly where he was intoxicated, and having kept him in a state of drunkenness till the ceremony was over. As he was seldom sober before or afterwards, it is hardly fair to impute his excesses to this pretty, and, unless it were a crime to wish to be a Countess, very blameless person.
His misfortunes, as he called them, were dated from his marriage, though he had been guilty of horrid excesses unconnected with matrimony, and is even believed to have killed a groom, who died a year after receiving a cruel beating from him. He had a mistress before his marriage, by whom he had two or three children, and he took her again after the separation from his wife. He was fond of both, and used both ill: Lady Ferrers so ill--always carrying pistols to bed, and threatening to kill her before morning, beating her, and being jealous without provocation--that she obtained a separation from him by Act of Parliament, in which were appointed receivers of his estate, to secure her allowance. This he could not bear. However, he named his steward as one of these receivers. Afterwards, finding out that Mr. Johnson[202] had paid Lady Ferrers fifty pounds without his knowledge, and suspecting him of being in the confederacy against him, he determined, when he failed of opportunities of murdering his wife, to kill the steward, which he effected.
Having ordered Mr. Johnson to attend him at Stanton, his Lordship contrived to send all the men-servants out of the way, so that there was no person in the house but himself and three female servants. On Mr. Johnson entering the room, Lord Ferrers locked the door. His lordship then ordered him to settle an account, and after a little time produced a paper, purporting, as he said, to be a confession of his villany, and required Mr. Johnson to sign it. Johnson refused; on which his lordship, drawing a pistol from his pocket, ordered him to kneel down, which the terrified man did, upon one knee; but Lord Ferrers cried out so loud as to be heard by one of the women at the kitchen door, “Down on your other knee--declare what you have acted against Lord Ferrers--your time is come, and you must die.” He fired, and the ball entered Mr. Johnson’s body just below the last rib, yet he did not drop, but rose up, and expressed the sensations of a dying man both by his looks and broken sentences. An alarm was soon given, and Dr. Kirkland was sent for.[203]
At the time of his arrest, Lord Ferrers was armed with a blunderbuss, two or three pistols, and a dagger. From Ashby-de-la-Zouch his Lordship was sent to Leicester gaol, and from thence, about a fortnight afterwards, was brought to London, in his own landau and six horses, under a strong guard. He was dressed like a jockey, in close riding frock, boots, and cap. Immediately on his arrival, he was carried before the House of Lords. It is impossible to conceive the shock which the evidence contained in the coroner’s inquest gave the court: many of the Lords were standing to look at him, but they soon turned from him with detestation. He was then committed to the custody of the Black Rod, and ordered to the Tower.
After two months’ imprisonment in the Tower, on the 16th April, 1759, Lord Ferrers was brought to his trial in Westminster Hall. He would not plead guilty, and yet had nothing to plead; and at last, to humour his family, pleaded madness, against his inclination. It was melancholy to see two of his brothers brought to depose to lunacy as existing in their own blood, in order to save their brother’s life.[204] On a former affair, in the House of Lords, he is said to have behaved with great shrewdness; no such thing, however, appeared at his trial; and it was afterwards pretended that his being forced by his family, against his inclination, to plead insanity, prevented his exerting his parts; but Lord Ferrers did not act in anything as if his family had influence over him.[205]
The trial lasted three days. His Lordship was sentenced to be hanged, and to have his body dissected and anatomized, the evidence of his insanity not proving satisfactory to their Lordships. But the Right Hon. Lord Henley, late Earl of Nottingham, who acted as High Steward at this awful solemnity, with consent of the Peers, respited his Lordship’s execution till Monday, May 5th. On receiving sentence, the unfortunate nobleman begged his Peers to recommend him to mercy: but all application from himself and friends proved ineffectual, and he was left for execution.
The conduct of Lord Ferrers after his condemnation was singular and extraordinary. The very night he received sentence he played at picquet, and would have continued to play every evening, had not permission been refused, at the particular request of Lady Huntingdon and other members of his family. Lord Cornwallis, Governor of the Tower, shortened his allowance of wine after his conviction, agreeably to the strict acts concerning the crime of murder which had passed both Houses of Parliament. This his Lordship much disliked, and at last pressed his brother to intercede, that at least he might have more porter; “for (said he), what I have is not a draught.” Mr. Shirle remonstrated, but at last consented. Then said the Earl, “Now is as good a time as any to take leave of you. Adieu!”
Very great exertions were made by Lady Huntingdon and other branches of the family to save his life. Two petitions were presented to the King--one by his mother, and the other by all the members of his family; but his Majesty said, as the House of Lords had unanimously found him guilty, he would not interfere. Another petition was presented by my Lord Keeper, but the King refused to hear him.
Dr. Pearce, Bishop of Rochester, offered his services to his Lordship: he thanked the Bishop, and said, as his own brother was a clergyman, he chose to have him; but Lady Huntingdon was more frequently with him than any other relation. The Earl, although by no means disposed to pay attention to the subjects she brought before his mind, allowed her to visit him frequently, and often sent for her for the sake of company. He grew tired of her Ladyship’s unwearied exertions to produce effect upon a conscience so hardened and impenetrable, and complained that she was enough to provoke anybody; yet he permitted her to visit him to the last, even after he had declined seeing his brothers; and had two interviews with Mr. Whitefield, to whom he behaved with great politeness. At Lady Huntingdon’s request, Mr. Whitefield repeatedly offered up public prayer for Lord Ferrers; “and that impertinent fellow (says Horace Walpole) told his enthusiasts, in his sermons, that my Lord’s heart was stone.” The very hardened conduct of Lord Ferrers, through every intricacy of this most horrid affair, even to the last moment of his departure out of life, but too well justified Mr. Whitefield. Witness his fearful insensibility the night before his execution, when he made one of his keepers read Hamlet to him after he was in bed; he paid all his bills in the morning as coolly as if leaving an inn; and half an hour before the arrival of the sheriffs to convey him to the place of execution, corrected some verses he had written in the Tower, in imitation of the Duke of Buckingham’s epitaph:--
“Dubius sed non improbus vixi.
In doubt I lived--in doubt I die,-- Yet stand prepared the vast abyss to try-- And undismay’d, expect eternity!”[206]
On the morning of the 5th of May his body was demanded of the keeper at the gates of the Tower by the sheriffs of London and Middlesex. His Lordship being informed of it, sent a message to the sheriffs requesting that he might go in his own landau, instead of the mourning coach that had been provided by his family; and his request being granted, he entered his landau, drawn by six horses, with Mr. Humphries, chaplain of the Tower, who had been admitted to his Lordship that morning for the first time. The landau was conducted to the outer gate by the officers of the Tower, and was there delivered to the sheriffs. Here Mr. Sheriff Vaillant entered the landau of Lord Ferrers, and expressing his concern at having so melancholy a duty to perform, his Lordship said “he was much obliged to him, and took it kindly that he accompanied him.”
He was dressed in his wedding clothes, which were of a light colour, and embroidered in silver, and said he thought this, at least, as good an occasion of putting them on as that for which they were first made. Soon after Mr. Sheriff Vaillant came into the landau, he said, “You may perhaps, sir, think it strange to see me in this dress, but I have my particular reasons for it.”
Sir William Meredith, and even Lady Huntingdon, were strongly convinced that his courage would fail him at last; but they were deceived. His courage rose where it was most likely to fail. The mixture of pageantry, shame, ignominy, and even of delay, could not shake his resolution. He set out from the Tower at nine, amidst crowds of spectators.[207]
The procession was two hours and three quarters on its way; but during the whole time Lord Ferrers appeared perfectly easy and composed, though he often expressed his desire to have it over, saying, “that the apparatus of death, and the passing through such crowds of people, were ten times worse than death itself.” At first his Lordship talked on indifferent matters, and observing the prodigious confluence of people, he said, “But they never saw a lord hanged, and perhaps will never see another.” One of the dragoons was thrown in consequence of his horse’s leg becoming entangled in the hind wheel. Lord Ferrers expressed much concern, and said, “I hope there will be no death to-day but mine,” and was pleased when Mr. Sheriff Vaillant told him that the man was not hurt. He told the sheriff “that he had written to the King to beg that he might suffer there where his ancestor, the Earl of Essex, the favourite of Elizabeth, had suffered, and was in great hopes of obtaining that favour, as he had the honour of being allied to his Majesty, and of quartering part of the royal arms; he thought it hard (he said) that he must die at the place appointed for the execution of common felons.” The sheriff made excuses to him on his office. “On the contrary (said the Earl), I am much obliged to you. I feared the disagreeableness of the duty might make you depute your under-sheriff. As you are so good as to execute it yourself, I am persuaded the dreadful apparatus will be conducted with more expedition.”
Mr. Humphries, chaplain of the Tower, who sat backwards, then thought it his turn to speak, and began to talk on religious subjects; but Lord Ferrers received the overture with impatience. However, the chaplain persevered, and said he wished to bring his Lordship to some confession or acknowledgment of contrition for a crime so repugnant to the laws of God and man, and wished him to endeavour to do whatever could be done in so short a time. The Earl replied, “he had done everything he had purposed to do with regard to God and man; and as to discourses on religion, you and I, sir (said he to the clergyman), shall probably not agree on that subject. The passage is very short--you will not have time to convince me, nor I to refute you; it cannot be ended before we arrive.” The clergyman still insisted, and urged that, at least, the world would expect some satisfaction, and would naturally be very inquisitive concerning the religion his Lordship professed. Lord Ferrers replied, with some impatience--
“Sir, what have I to do with the world? I am going to pay a forfeit life, which my country has thought proper to take from me. What do I care now what the world thinks of me? But, sir, since you do desire some confession, I confess one thing to you: I do believe there is a God, the Maker of all things. As to modes of worship, we had better not talk of them: all nations and countries have a form of religion by which the people are governed, and whoever disturbs it I look upon as an enemy to society. Whatever my notions may have been, I have never propagated them, or endeavoured to gain persons over to my persuasion. I always thought Lord Bolingbroke in the wrong to publish his notions on religion: I will not fall into the same error. The many sects, and their disputes about religion, have almost turned morality out of doors: and I can never believe what some sectaries teach, that faith alone will save mankind; so that if a man just before he dies should say only, ‘I believe’--that that alone will save him.”
The chaplain represented to him that it would be expected from one of his calling, and that even decency required, that some prayer should be used on the scaffold, and asked his leave, at least, to use the Lord’s Prayer there. Lord Ferrers replied, “I always thought it a good prayer: you may use it if you please.”
The landau being now advanced to the place of execution, his Lordship alighted from it, and, with the same composure and fortitude of mind he had possessed from the time he left the Tower, mounted the scaffold: it was hung with black by the undertaker, at the expense of his family. Under the gallows was a newly-invented stage, to be struck from under him. He showed no kind of fear or discomposure, only just looking at the gallows with a slight motion of dissatisfaction. He said little, kneeled for a moment at the Lord’s Prayer, and afterwards, with great energy, uttered the following ejaculations, “O God! forgive me all my errors--pardon all my sins.”
His Lordship then, rising quickly, mounted the upper stage. He had come pinioned with a black sash, and was unwilling to have his hands tied or his face covered, but was persuaded to both. When the rope was put round his neck he turned pale, but recovered instantly. Within seven minutes after leaving the landau the signal was given for striking the stage, and in four minutes he was quite dead.[208]
Mr. Shirley remained in London some time after the execution in order to pay his brother’s debts, that no further dishonour might be reflected on his memory. Lady Huntingdon, likewise, continued in London till the end of June. This is confirmed by an extract of a letter from the Countess of Northumberland to Mr. Lindsay, dated June 17th:--
“As I am in doubt about your direction I shall send this to Northumberland House, and order them to carry it to Lady Huntingdon, where, I conclude, they will be able to learn how to convey it safely to you. My Lord desires his compliments to you, and I beg to trouble you with mine to Lady Huntingdon, Lady Selina, and Mrs. Hastings.”[209]
Chapter XXIV
Proposed Union among the Evangelical Clergy--Methodism in Scotland--Lady Frances Gardiner--Mr. Townsend sent to Edinburgh--Mr. De Courcy--Lady Glenorchy--Mr. Wesley--Lady Maxwell--Samson Occum, the Indian Preacher--Mohegan Indians--Dr. Haweis--Affair of Aldwincle--Lady Huntingdon purchases the Advowson--Writes to Mr. Thornton--Lady Huntingdon’s Letters to Lord Dartmouth and Mr. Madan--Anecdote.
It was now that Mr. Wesley attempted to form an open and active union between all the clergymen who preached these fundamental truths--original sin, and justification by faith, producing inward and outward holiness. With this hope he transmitted a circular letter to some fifty ministers of the Church, known in later times by the appellation of “Evangelical, or Gospel ministers,” wherein he proposed that, leaving free the disputable points of predestination on one side, and perfection on the other--laying no stress upon expressions, and binding themselves to no peculiar discipline,[210] they should think and speak kindly of each other, form, as it were, a defensive league, and each help the other on in his work, and enlarge his influence by all rightful means.
“For (as he said, in a letter to Lady Huntingdon) some years since God began a great work in England, but the labourers were few; at first these few were of one heart, but this did not continue long; one and another broke off, till no two of us were left together in the work but my brother and me. This prevented much good and occasioned much evil; it grieved our spirits and weakened our hands; it gave the common enemies occasion to blaspheme; it perplexed and puzzled many sincere Christians; it caused many to draw back to perditon; it grieved the Holy Spirit of God.
“As labourers increased, disunion increased--offences were multiplied; and instead of coming nearer to, they stood farther and farther from each other; till, at length, those who were not only brethren in Christ, but fellow-labourers in his Gospel, had no more connexion[211] nor fellowship with each other than Protestants have with Papists.”
This attempt at union took place only a few days before Mr. Wesley’s great and final breach with the Calvinistic brethren.
It was in 1751 that Mr. Wesley, accompanied by Mr. Christopher Hopper, first sought Scotland, on a visit to Colonel Galatin, then in quarters at Musselborough. Notwithstanding the warning of Mr. Whitefield, who had told him that his principles would not do in Scotland, he preached frequently and with great success.[212] Dr. Gillies (Glasgow), Mr. Wardrope (Bathgate), Mr. Adams (Falkirk), and other ministers, as well as several of the nobility, received him with great kindness, and listened with respect to his exhortations; but Mr. Wesley’s comments on Mr. Hervey’s “Theron and Aspasio” produced a new work, called “Aspasio Vindicated,” published after Mr. Hervey’s death, and reflecting on the opinions of Mr. Wesley. About the time of which we write (1766) this work was reprinted, with a preface by Dr. Erskine, one of the ministers of the old Grey Friars’ Church, Edinburgh. Lady Frances Gardiner (widow of the pious Colonel), and Lady Glenorchy, who had been introduced by Lady Huntingdon to Mr. Whitefield, and who, though differing from Mr. Wesley, attended his preaching and the ministry of his associates, with other distinguished persons, separated from him after the publication of these letters.
It was now (1767) that Mr. Townsend visited Scotland, on a mission from Lady Huntingdon, as before adverted to, when her Ladyship was detained at Kippax, and prevented from visiting Scotland, according to her fixed intention. Mr. Townsend was received by Drs. Webster and Erskine, Messrs. Walker, Plenderleath, and Johnson, and other pious and able ministers of the Established Church. He preached at Coldstream (then a small village) on his first entrance into Scotland, thence in two days he reached Edinburgh, where he preached first at Mr. Lee’s English Chapel, to one hundred and fifty people, and then in the Park to a vast multitude, afterwards in the College church, and then at Dalkeith, and afterwards at Leith, with great success. He was accompanied by Mr. Davies, and remained in Edinburgh at least two months. During his stay he preached at five o’clock in the morning, at which early hour the church, and even the neighbouring park, were crowded.
These proceedings, under the patronage of Lady Huntingdon and Lady Glenorchy, and the efforts of the clergy of Edinburgh against Arminianism, raised up hosts against Mr. Wesley on his return to Scotland. He refers in his Journal to the labours of “good Mr. Townsend,” whereby his flock of one hundred and fifty were reduced to fifty. Mr. Townsend soon after revisited Edinburgh, under the patronage of Lady Huntingdon, and, at Lady Glenorchy’s desire, Mr. De Courcy and Mr. Erasmus Middleton met him there, and they, alternately with Mr. Wesley’s preachers, performed divine service in Lady Glenorchy’s chapel. The former being decidedly Calvinistic and the latter Perfectionists, an incongruity in teaching arose, to remedy which Lady Glenorchy withdrew from Mr. Wesley’s Connexion. Her Ladyship in a letter to a friend says, “the Methodists charge Mr. De Courcy with having influenced me, and Lady Maxwell, in particular, is greatly offended with me.” Mr. Wesley’s letter to Lady Maxwell about this note especially warns her against the influence of Mr. De Courcy and the preaching of Mr. Townsend--prophesying that the former, at least, will be a considerable favourite with Lady Glenorchy. The Wesleyan doctrine and practice have never made great progress in Scotland.
About this period the Rev. Samson Occum[213] arrived in England, with Mr. Whitaker, the minister of Norwich, to promote the interests of the Indian charity school founded by Dr. Eleazar Wheeloch, one of the most interesting, eloquent, and successful ministers in New England, first President and Founder of Dartmouth College. Occum was the first Indian preacher who visited England, and, having brought letters of introduction to Lady Huntingdon, was soon received in all the religious circles in London. He preached several times for Mr. Whitefield at the Tabernacle, and at Tottenham-court chapel, which were filled in every part by thronged and attentive auditories. During his stay in England he preached in various parts of the kingdom between three and four hundred sermons. The money which he collected for the Indian school was put into the hands of trustees in England, of whom the Earl of Dartmouth was the principal.
During his stay in England he was sensibly affected by the kindness of Lady Huntingdon, who not only hospitably entertained him at her house, but likewise introduced him to the notice of several pious persons amongst the nobility, both in England and Scotland.[214]
Lady Huntingdon appears to have been much interested about the Mohegan Indians, from accounts related to her by Occum:--
“Ere long (says her Ladyship) I trust the Lord will make his way plain through all that country, that under a preached Gospel these several tribes may become one fold under the spiritual guidance of the Great Shepherd and Bishop of Souls. Occum has been the instrument of great good to many of his tribe--many of whom have renounced their idolatry, and worshipped Him who died upon the cross. I hope yet to have it in my power, if the Lord should see fit to continue me in his service, to extend some aid to this interesting people.”
There were other native preachers scarcely less worthy of remembrance than Occum, though not so intimately connected with our subject. One of these, Joseph Johnson, was born at Mohegan about 1750. He was educated at Dr. Wheeloch’s school at Lebanon, and was afterwards licensed to preach among the Six Nations of Indians. It was there that, in 1776, he received a letter from General Washington, dated at Cambridge, February 20, saying--
“Tell them that we don’t want them to take up the hatchet for us, except they choose it; we only desire that they will not fight against us. We want that the chain of friendship should always remain bright between our friends of the Six Nations and us. We recommend you to them, and hope, by your spreading the truths of the Gospel among them, it will keep the chain bright.”
The Rev. James Fitch, minister of Norwich, was well acquainted with the Mohegan language, and preached the Gospel of salvation to that once powerful tribe for many years. He even gave some of his own lands to induce them to renounce their savage manner of living. The descendants of those Indians at Mohegan, for whose benefit he toiled more than forty years, have recently had a chapel built for them, by the liberality of the citizens of Norwich.[215]
From these instances it will be seen that the school at Lebanon has been extensively useful among the Indians, for whose use it was established. Lady Huntingdon contributed richly to this institution, and Mr. Whitefield made frequent collections for it. Dr. Wheeloch died April 24, 1779, aged sixty-eight. His son, Lieutenant-Colonel Wheeloch, became President of Dartmouth College on the death of his father. In 1783 the trustees resolved to send him to England to promote the interests of the College. With letters from General Washington to Lady Huntingdon, and from Governors Trumbull and Livingston to several persons of influence, he arrived in England, and having procured considerable donations for the College, in money, books, &c., returned to America, but was shipwrecked on the bar off the point of Cape Cod, losing his strong box, containing all his money and papers. He died in 1817.
One of the persons who took interest in the Indian preachers was Dr. Haweis, who was at this moment placed in a somewhat awkward predicament. Mr. Kimpton, who had held the living of Aldwincle, in Northamptonshire, for several years, had, by some very strange and imprudent conduct, fallen into difficulties, and became a prisoner in the King’s Bench. A long absence from his parish could not be dispensed with by his superior, and as he was unable to return to Aldwincle, the living was in danger of lapsing to the Bishop of the Diocese. It therefore became necessary for Mr. Kimpton either to sell the advowson, or obtain the Bishop’s leave for some clergyman to hold it for a limited time. Dr. Haweis, not having any preferment from the time he had been driven from his cure at Oxford,[216] was recommended to Mr. Kimpton by Mr. Madan, who had been introduced to him by the Rev. Samuel Brewer; and as the Bishop’s leave could not be obtained for any person to hold the living for a limited time, he presented it to Dr. Haweis. The whole transaction was concluded with Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis by Mr. Kimpton, when no other person was present. Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis, no doubt, acted in this business as upright and conscientious men, but in the eyes of those equally excellent, Lady Huntingdon, Mr. Whitefield, and Mr. Thornton, their conduct appeared less pure.[217]
Some months after Mr. Kimpton had signed the presentation, a gentleman made him an offer of one thousand guineas for the advowson, whereupon he immediately made an application to Dr. Haweis, intimating his hopes of a resignation, or at least of having a compensation in money. However, as no promises, or even so much as a hint of a consideration, had been made at the time when Dr. Haweis was presented to the living, that gentleman and Mr. Madan peremptorily refused either resignation or compensation. The distress which this refusal brought upon Mr. Kimpton and his family was almost beyond parallel; Mr. Kimpton himself being still a prisoner in the King’s Bench, his son driven out of his mind, and the rest of his family nearly starving.
This affair soon became very public, and the foulest aspersions were thrown on the characters of Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis by Mr. Kimpton and his friends. On the part of Dr. Haweis, it was contended that Mr. Kimpton presented him to the living without any pecuniary consideration whatever, either at the time of his acceptance of it, or the least promise or engagement for any future recompense. Mr. Kimpton and his friends did not deny this; but said it must be presumed that when the patron first waited upon Mr. Madan for his advice in the unfortunate situation he was then in, that he told him his case, and that Mr. Madan must have known what he wanted; and though no promises, or even so much as a hint of a consideration, were made at the time the presentation was signed, yet Dr. Haweis must have known that Mr. Kimpton wholly relied on his honour, and could not think that he would be willing to give his living away absolutely to a man he never saw before, and to one who was likely to enjoy it a great number of years, when he might have found a person of more than twice the age of Dr. Haweis to have given it to.
Mr. Madan sought the advice of the first legal authorities, and having himself been an able practitioner at the bar, felt confident that he had acted in the most conscientious and honourable manner by Mr. Kimpton. Lord Apsley, afterwards Lord Bathurst, then Lord High Chancellor of England, to whom Mr. Madan was chaplain, decided in his favour, as did also several persons conversant with ecclesiastical law. The obloquy and reproach to which Mr. Madan was exposed, and the base attacks made upon his character for the part which he took in this unhappy affair, obliged him to publish a narrative of the whole transaction, in which he accuses Mr. Kimpton of stating what was false, and of having acted a very close and designing part in not declaring his real sentiments. This narrative was also designed to answer the account which Mr. Kimpton had published a short time before.[218]
Matters were in this state when Lady Huntingdon arrived in London. After much consultation with Mr. Whitefield, Mr. Thornton, and others, the purchase of the advowson by her Ladyship was considered the best means to deliver the Christian cause from that obloquy and reproach which was so abundantly heaped upon it through this affair, and help out of prison and debt the miserable sufferers by it, as well as, at the same time, to make a way for Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis to stand on ground that might, in the sight of all good and reasonable men, become truly Christian and honourable. On the 1st of March, Lady Huntingdon sent by Mr. Whitefield a draft for one thousand pounds to Mr. Thornton, and commissioned him, Mr. Whitefield, Mr. West, and Mr. Brewer, to purchase the perpetual advowson of Aldwincle, and deliver Mr. Kimpton and his family out of their difficulties and distress. By her Ladyship’s desire an advertisement was inserted in the public papers, directing all his creditors to apply to Mr. Thornton to receive their respective demands.
The following is a copy of her Ladyship’s letter to Mr. Thornton:--
“March 1st, 1768.
“Dear Sir--In consequence of the visit you had on Saturday, and your approbation of what appeared most right to me, I have one favour to ask from your kind and Christian influence. The natural effects to Mr. Kimpton, on being made easy, may flow in a degree of gratitude to me that would exceedingly hurt me under any form whatever, either from him or his friends. I wish extremely it may appear, as it faithfully is, unconnected with Mr. Madan, and in such a way also as may silence those evil effects of his conduct; but with no spirit even to him that had not the most simple and Christian meaning to all, and this can only be done by that coolness and indifference that belong to every common just action in life. You would, therefore, highly oblige me to have in view for me the suppression of any notices on this occasion. Nothing could so grieve me. My heart feels too much ashamed before Him who sees it, to receive any approbation from man; may he forgive my best meanings when mixed with such imperfect actions as I feel all mine to be. Your kind assistance in this will lay a perpetual obligation on her who most highly esteems you, and on all occasions acknowledges herself, dear Sir, your obliged and faithful humble servant,
“S. HUNTINGDON.
“P. S.--I send the note for 1,000_l._ by Mr. Whitefield.”
To this memorable letter Mr. Thornton sent the following answer:--
“Madam--I have received, by the Rev. Mr. Whitefield, your Ladyship’s favour of a draft on Messrs. Boldero and Co. for a thousand pounds; and it shall be my endeavour to prove myself obedient to your commands in all respects. And I cannot but admire the true Christian manner in which you are pleased to study to act, with a single eye to the honour and glory of our dear Lord and Master, in this great good work. I trust he will own this and all your Ladyship’s labours of love, and shine upon you more and more, till he receives you where we shall be everlastingly employed in praise. I am, with the most sincere regard your Ladyship’s most obedient humble servant,
“JOHN THORNTON.”
Lord Dartmouth having likewise taken an active part in this unhappy affair, and having intimated his anxiety that the characters of Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis should not suffer through her Ladyship’s kind and generous intentions, she wrote to his Lordship the same day on which she commissioned Mr. Thornton to purchase the advowson, informing him of what she had done.
“March 1st, 1768.
“My Lord--I have this day sent, by the hands of Mr. Whitefield, to Mr. Thornton, a note for a thousand pounds, to pay (as by agreement with Mr. Kimpton) for the perpetual advowson of Aldwincle living, and which was the full supposed value before Dr. Haweis had possession of it. As your Lordship must have known the want of concurrence my heart has ever had in this whole affair, so I did think your Lordship had a right to the earliest and fullest information of this transaction, and also of what appeared to me the one best means to deliver from reproach, on this account, the Christian cause, and help out of prison and debt the miserable sufferers by it, as well as at the same time to make a way for Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis to stand on ground that might, in the sight of all good and reasonable men, become truly Christian and honourable. Your Lordship, in wishing the protection of the character of those you regard, has seen this matter in a light, tender, friendly, and charitable; but this medium is not that through which all can see in it that exactness requisite to actions that appear of such consequence to the clearing up of their fidelity when less known. A thousand therefore to one, as well in the Christian as rational world, must and do see it in another; these, doubtless, claim that consideration as due to them which every Christian heart would by concession willingly make, whenever consciously mistaken--else woe to the world indeed because of offences, which would yet remain the hindrance of their peace, by the false impressions received against the power and purity which, through mistaken conduct, must continue so obscured. As to any reserves pride may make on these subjects, may the Lord keep me, your Lordship, and all who name the name of Christ, from them. Should not these measures meet with your Lordship’s approbation, my satisfaction will receive that difference only. As far as I know, my eye has been single to these three points I have mentioned, and that to Him whose I am, and from whose compassion I look for pity to all my ignorance and weakness, in want of further abilities in this matter, as well as for every other purpose to his glory, and in all situations, remain, my Lord, your Lordship’s obliged and faithful humble servant,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
It now remained for Lady Huntingdon to conclude this unfortunate transaction, by writing to Mr. Madan, with a full disclosure of her sentiments, informing him of the step which she thought it most prudent to take. We transcribe the letter, and Mr. Madan’s reply, from a manuscript in her Ladyship’s handwriting:--
“London, March 1st, 1768.
“Rev. Sir--Some time in last April was a year, in my lodgings at Chelsea, you were so good as to inform me of this unhappy affair of Aldwincle. On having your representation read over, my sentiments on that point I most freely gave, and thought, as the matter stood, I could not see how Dr. Haweis, as an honest man, could continue to keep that living. The objection then made against giving it up was the charge of simony, which might in that case be brought. To avoid even the suspicion of this, it instantly occurred to my mind that you and Dr. Haweis immediately taking Mr. Kimpton to the Bishop, and proving yourselves free from the charge that was or might be brought against you, necessarily obliged him (the Bishop) either to allow the resignation of the living in testimony of your innocence, or acquit your characters in keeping it, if he refused to receive it. From the inferior objection of the 300_l._ laid out on the house by Dr. Haweis (and which was afterwards offered to be paid by a friend on resignation of the living), it did not then seem expedient to you that the living should be given up. I then had no more to say, and became satisfied to share in the certain shame and reproach so many of God’s people have had on this occasion; but from the conviction of my mind I could take up no weapons of defence on this subject. It remained from your own testimony to me just the same under every various and future appearance to the world. Since I last came to town I have found a severe scourge indeed upon the Church of God, and which, by going on, must end in every evil word and work. To deliver, therefore, a miserable family, and to stop all further grief to God’s people, who are alike in all parts affected by this blow, I had but one thing that suggested itself to me adequate to its relief, and whereby these best motives might be explained. In order to do this the most effectually in my power, I have commissioned Mr. Thornton, Mr. Whitefield, Mr. West, and Mr. Brewer (by this day giving them a note for 1,000_l._) to purchase the advowson of Aldwincle, and they are now gone to see Mr. Kimpton released from prison, restored to his family, and the debts relative to the advowson, and all his other debts, punctually discharged. Thus far have I gone, but alas! I can go no farther. It remains now only for me to pray to God to enable both you and Mr. Haweis to make every proper and public concession[219] to the world for any conscious infirmity, weakness, temptation, or mistaken step throughout this transaction. May you stand by the cross of Christ in this humbling and trying instance. It will be sufficient to support and carry you victoriously through all, and bring back the love, the just love and honour due to you from the Church of God, and in the end can alone preserve that character, whose defence from man has wanted that success which God only can give. Should I ever live to see this happy day of peace proclaimed, you will then find me that faithful and affectionate friend I desire to be found by you both. Till then, I can only say, I remain your servant for Christ’s sake,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
The concession, drawn up by Lady Huntingdon, which she proposed in the above letter to be signed by Mr. Madan and Dr. Haweis, and circulated in the public prints, never obtained any publicity.
The following is Mr. Madan’s reply, dated March 3, 1768:--
“Madam--When I had the honour of your Ladyship’s letter I was confined to my bed, and therefore could not answer it by your servant. I am at present very unfit for writing, or business of any sort; but lest my longer silence should be misconstrued into disrespect, I trouble your Ladyship with the following answer.
“Your Ladyship acquaints me that you have sent a thousand pounds for the purchase of the advowson of Aldwincle. This step your Ladyship may have taken with the best intentions; but, under all the circumstances of the case, it is very evident to me that the necessary consequence of it will be an increase of reproach and injury to my friend Dr. Haweis’s character and my own; and therefore I hope your Ladyship will do us the justice, upon all occasions, to declare that this step has been taken without our knowledge, privity, consent, or approbation.
“As to the part which Dr. Haweis and I have taken, it has been, all things considered, a very disagreeable one for us; and nothing could have supported us under the oppression and persecution we have met with, but a consciousness of our having acted uprightly and sincerely. This has enabled us to stem the torrent of abuse which hath been poured upon us from all quarters, and I trust will enable us to assert our integrity as long as we live.
“As to the concessions your Ladyship is pleased to mention, as we do not conceive we have any to make, so we must assure you that none can ever be made, by us I mean, for I by no means despair that some may appear on the other side of the question, when conscience shall do its office with respect to the wrongs we have sustained, and our just dealing shall be as the noon-day sun.
“When evil is spoken of us falsely, we are commanded to rejoice; when any can be said truly, I shall hope that you will find none more ready to acknowledge and lament it than dear Dr. Haweis, and,
“Madam, your Ladyship’s humble servant,
“MARTIN MADAN.”
The preaching of Mr. Haweis, which Mr. Newton (one of the ministers who approved his conduct and that of Mr. Madan) said had, like the report of cannon, sounded through the country, attracted vast congregations to Aldwincle church.[220] Mr. Romaine, Mr. Venn, as well as Mr. Newton, visited him in his living. The friendship of such men is unequivocal testimony to the piety of Dr. Haweis: but we do not mean to offer any opinion on the affair of Aldwincle; suppose him to have erred in this, let the mistakes of such men be beacons for our admonition and warning, while their fidelity and devotedness inspire us with the zeal of imitation, and arouse us to exertion.