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CHICAGO. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - EDITOR’S NOTE. - - -------------- - - -The only changes made in revising this work are in the local allusions -to England as “our country,” etc., and in a few phrases and expressions -naturally arising from the original preparation of the chapters for -successive numbers of a magazine. If any reader thinks that the Author’s -enthusiasm in his subject has caused him to ascribe too great influence -to the “Methodist movement,” and not to give due recognition to other -potent agencies in the “great awakening” of the last century, let him -remember that this volume does not profess to give a _complete_, but -only a _partial_ history of the Great Revival. Indeed, the Author’s -graphic pictures relate chiefly to the movement, as it swept over London -and the great mining centres of England, where the truth, as proclaimed -by the great leaders, Whitefield, the Wesleys, and their co-laborers, -won its greatest victories, and where Methodism has ever continued to -render some of its most valiant and glorious services for Christ. It is -not to be inferred that in Scotland, Ireland, and in the American -colonies, as in many portions of England, other organizations, -dissenting societies and churches were not a power in spreading the -Great Revival movement. - -A brief chapter has been added at the close, sketching some phases of -the revival in the American colonies, under the labors of Edwards, -Whitefield, the Tennents, and their associates. Whatever other material -has been added by the Editor is indicated by brackets, thus leaving the -distinguished Author’s views and expressions intact. - -An Index has also been added, to increase the permanent value of the -book to the reader. If the history of the remarkable “religious -awakenings” of the eighteenth century were more diligently studied, and -the holy enthusiasm and wonderful zeal of those great leaders in -“hunting for souls” were to inspire workers of this century, what -marvellous conquests and victories should we witness for the Son of God! - -Philadelphia, March, 1882. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PREFACE. - - -------------- - - -The author of the following pages begs that they may be read kindly—and, -he will venture to say, _not_ critically. Originally published as a -series of papers in the _Sunday at Home_, * * * they are only -_Vignettes_—etchings. The History of the great Religious Movement of the -Eighteenth Century yet remains unwritten; not often has the world known -such a marvellous awakening of religious thought; and, as we are further -removed in time, so, perhaps, we are better able to judge of the -momentous circumstances, could we but seize the point of view. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CONTENTS. - - -------------- - - - CHAP. PAGE. - - I. THE DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN 7 - - II. FIRST STREAKS OF DAWN 24 - - III. OXFORD: NEW LIGHTS AND OLD LANTERNS 48 - - IV. CAST OUT FROM THE CHURCH—TAKING TO THE 68 - FIELDS - - V. THE REVIVAL CONSERVATIVE 86 - - VI. THE SINGERS OF THE REVIVAL 109 - - VII. LAY PREACHING AND LAY PREACHERS 132 - - VIII. A GALLERY OF REVIVALIST PORTRAITS 154 - - IX. BLOSSOMS IN THE WILDERNESS 180 - - X. THE REVIVAL BECOMES EDUCATIONAL—ROBERT 193 - RAIKES - - XI. THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SILAS TOLD 216 - - XII. MISSIONARY SOCIETIES 250 - - XIII. AFTERMATH 260 - - XIV. REVIVAL IN THE NEW WORLD 281 - - APPENDICES 303 - - INDEX 321 - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE GREAT REVIVAL. - - -------------- - - - - - CHAPTER I - - DARKNESS BEFORE DAWN. - - -It cannot be too often remembered or repeated that when the Bible has -been brought face to face with the conscience of corrupt society, in -every age it has shown itself to be that which it professes, and which -its believers declare it to be—“the great power of God.” It proved -itself thus amidst the hoary and decaying corruptions of the ancient -civilisation, when its truths were first published to the Roman Empire; -it proclaimed its power to the impure but polished society of Florence, -when Savonarola preached his wonderful sermons in St. Mark’s; and -effected the same results throughout the whole German Empire, when Bible -truth sounded forth from Luther’s trumpet-tones. The same principle is -illustrated where the great evangelical truths of the New Testament -entered nations, as in Spain or France, only to be rejected. From that -rejection and the martyrdoms of the first believers; those nations have -never recovered themselves even to this hour; and of the two nations, -that in which the rejection was the most haughty and cruel, has suffered -most from its renunciation. - -England has passed through three great evangelical revivals. - -The first, the period of the REFORMATION, whose force was latent there, -even before the waves of the great German revolution reached its shores, -and called forth the pen of a monarch, and that monarch a haughty Tudor, -to enter the lists of disputation with the lowly-born son of a miner of -Hartz Mountains. What that Reformation effected in England we all very -well know; the changes it wrought in opinion, the martyrs who passed -away in their chariots of fire in vindication of its doctrines, the -great writers and preachers to whose works and names we frequently and -lovingly refer. - -Then came the second great evangelical revival, the period of -PURITANISM,[1] whose central interests gather round the great civil -wars. This was the time, and these were the opinions which produced some -of the most massive and magnificent writers of our language; the whole -mind of the country was stirred to its deepest heart by faith in those -truths, which to believe enobles human nature, and enables it to endure -“as seeing Him who is invisible.” There can be no doubt that it produced -some of the grandest and noblest minds, whether for service by sword or -pen, in the pulpit or the cabinet, that the world has known. Lord -Macaulay’s magnificently glowing description of the English Puritan, and -how he attained, by his evangelical opinions, his stature of strength, -will be familiar to all readers who know his essay on Milton. - -Footnote 1: - - Appendix A. - -But the present aim is to gather up some of the facts and impressions, -and briefly to recite some of the influences of the third great -evangelical revival in the Eighteenth Century. We are guilty of no -exaggeration in saying that these have been equally deserving historic -fame with either of the preceding. The story has less, perhaps, to -excite some of our most passionate human interests; it had not to make -its way through stakes and scaffolds, although it could recite many -tales of persecution; it unsheathed no sword, the weapons of its warfare -were not carnal; and on the whole, it may be said its doctrine distilled -“as the dew;” yet it is not too much to say that from the revival of the -last century came forth that wonderfully manifold reticulation and holy -machinery of piety and benevolence, we find in such active operation -around us to-day. - -All impartial historians of the period place this most remarkable -religious impulse in the rank of the very foremost phenomena of the -times. The calm and able historian, Earl Stanhope, speaking of it, as -“despised at its commencement,” continues, “with less immediate -importance than wars or political changes, it endures long after not -only the result but the memory of these has passed away, and thousands” -(his lordship ought to have said millions) “who never heard of Fontenoy -or Walpole, continue to follow the precepts, and venerate the name of -John Wesley.” While the latest, a still more able and equally impartial -and quiet historian, Mr. Lecky, says, “Our splendid victories by land -and sea must yield in real importance to this religious revolution; it -exercised a profound and lasting influence upon the spirit of the -Established Church of England, upon the amount and distribution of the -moral forces of that nation, and even upon the course of its political -history.” - -Shall we, then, first attempt to obtain some adequate idea of what this -Revival effected, by a slight effort to realise what sort of world and -state of society it was into which the Revival came? One writer truly -remarks, “Never has century risen on christian England so void of soul -and faith as that which opened with Queen Anne, and which reached its -misty noon beneath the second George, a dewless night succeeded by a -dewless dawn. There was no freshness in the past and no promise in the -future; the Puritans were buried, the Methodists were not born.” It is -unquestionably true that black, bad and corrupt as society was, for the -most part, all round, in the eighteenth century, intellectual and -spiritual forces broke forth, simultaneously we had almost said, and -believing, as we do, in the Providence which governed the rise of both, -we may say, consentaneously, which have left far behind all social -regenerations which the pen of history has recited before. Of almost all -the fruits we enjoy, it may be said the seeds were planted then; even -those which, like the printing-press or the gospel, had been planted -ages before, were so transplanted as to flourish with a new vigour. - -Our eye has been taught to rest on an interesting incident. It was in -1757 John Wesley, travelling and preaching, then about fifty years of -age, but still with nearly forty years of work before him, arrived in -Glasgow. He saw in the University its library and its pictures; but, had -he possessed the vision of a Hebrew seer he might have glanced up from -the quadrangle of the college to the humble rooms, up a spiral -staircase, of a young workman, over whose lodging was the sign and -information that they were tenanted by a “mathematical instrument maker -to the University.” This young man, living there upon a poor fare, and -eking out a poor subsistence, with many thoughts burdening his mind, was -destined to be the founder of the greatest commercial and material -revolution the world has known: through him seems to have been fulfilled -the wonderfully significant prophecy of Nahum: “The chariots shall rage -in the streets, they shall jostle one against another in the broad ways: -they shall seem like torches, they shall run like the lightnings.” This -young man was James Watt, who gave to the world the steam engine. A few -years after he gave his mighty invention to Birmingham; and the world -has never been the same world since. “By that invention,” says Emerson, -“one man can do the work of two hundred and fifty men;” and in -Manchester alone and in its vicinity there are probably sixty thousand -boilers, and the aggregate power of a million horses. - -Let not the allusion seem out of place. That age was the seed-time of -the present harvest fields; in that time those great religious ideas -which have wrought such an astonishing revolution, acquired body and -form; and we ought to notice how, when God sets free some new idea, He -also calls into existence the new vehicle for its diffusion. He did not -trust the early christian faith to the old Latin races, to the selfish -and æsthetic Greek, or to the merely conservative Hebrew; He “hissed,” -in the graphic language of the old Bible, for a new race, and gave the -New Testament to the Teutonic people, who have ever been its chief -guardians and expositors; and thus, in all reviews of the development -and unfolding of the religious life in the times of which we speak, we -have to notice how the material and the spiritual changes have re-acted -on each other, while both have brought a change which has indeed “made -all things new.” - -Contrasting the state of society after the rise of the Great Revival -with what it was before, the present with the past, it is quite obvious -that something has brought about a general decency and decorum of -manners, a tenderness and benevolence of sentiment, a religious interest -in, and observance of, pious usages, not to speak of a depth of -religious life and conviction, and a general purity and nobility of -literary taste, which did not exist before. All these must be credited -to this great movement. It is not in the nature of steam engines, -whether stationary or locomotive, nor in printing presses, or -Staffordshire potteries, undirected by spiritual forces, to raise the -morals or to improve the manners of mankind. - -If sometimes in the presence of the spectacles of ignorance, crime, -irreligion, and corruption in our own day, we are filled with a sense of -despair for the prospects of society, it may be well to take a -retrospect of what society was in England at the commencement of the -last century. When George III. ascended the throne the population of -England was not much over five millions; at the commencement of the -present century it was nearly eleven millions; but with the intensely -crowded population of the present day, the cancerous elements of -society, the dangerous, pauperised, and criminal classes are in far less -proportion, not merely relatively, but really. It was a small country, -and possessed few inhabitants. There are few circumstances which can -give us much pleasure in the review. National distress was constantly -making itself bitterly felt; it was the age of mobs and riots. The state -of the criminal law was cruel in the extreme. Blackstone calculates that -for no fewer than one hundred and sixty offences, some of them of the -most frivolous description, the judge was bound to pronounce sentence of -death. Crime, of course, flourished. During the year 1738 no fewer than -fifty-two criminals were hanged at Tyburn. During that and the preceding -years, twelve thousand persons had been convicted, within the Bills of -Mortality, for smuggling gin and selling it without licence. The -amusements of all classes of people were exactly of that order -calculated to create a cruel disposition, and thus to encourage crime; -bear-baiting, bull-baiting, prize-fighting, cock-fighting: on a Shrove -Tuesday it was dangerous to pass down any public street. This was the -day selected for the barbarity of tying a harmless cock to a stake, -there to be battered to death by throwing a stick at it from a certain -distance. The grim humour of the people took this form of expressing the -national hatred to the French, from the Latin name for the cock, -_Gallus_. It was in truth a barbarous pun. - -With abundant wealth and means of happiness, the people fell far short -of what we should consider comfort now. Life and liberty were cheap, and -a prevalent Deism or Atheism was united to a wild licentiousness of -manners, brutalising all classes of society. For the most part, the -Church of England had so shamefully forgotten or neglected her duty—this -is admitted now by all her most ardent ministers—while the -Noncomformists had sunk generally into so cold an indifferentism in -devotion, and so hard and sceptical a frame in theology, that every -interest in the land was surrendered to profligacy and recklessness, -and, in thoughtful minds, to despair. Society in general was spiritually -dead. The literature of England, with two or three famous exceptions, -suffered a temporary eclipse. Such as it was, it was perverted from all -high purposes, and was utterly alien to all purity and moral dignity. A -good idea of the moral tone of the times might be obtained by running -the eye over a few volumes of the old plays of this period, many of them -even written by ladies; it is amazing to us now to think not only that -they could be tolerated, but even applauded. The gaols were filled with -culprits; but this did not prevent the heaths, moors, and forests from -swarming with highwaymen, and the cities with burglars. In the remote -regions of England, such as Cornwall in the west, Yorkshire and -Northumberland in the north, and especially in the midland -Staffordshire, the manners were wild and savage, passing all conception -and description. We have to conceive of a state of society divested of -all the educational, philanthropic, and benevolent activities of modern -times. There were no Sunday-schools, and few day-schools; here and -there, some fortunate neighbourhood possessed a grammar-school from some -old foundation. Or, perhaps some solitary chapel, retreating into a -bye-lane in the metropolitan city, or the country town, or, more -probably, far away from any town, stood at some confluence of roads, a -monument of old intolerance; but, as we said, religious life was in fact -dead, or lying in a trance. - -As to the religious teachers of those times, we know of no period in our -history concerning which it might so appropriately be said, in the words -of the prophet, “The pastors” are “become brutish, and have not sought -the Lord.” In the life of a singular man, but not a good one, Thomas -Lord Lyttleton, in a letter dated 1775, we have a most graphic portrait -of a country clergyman, a friend of Lyttleton, who went by the -designation of “Parson Adams.” We suppose him to be no bad -representative of the average parson of that day—coarse, profane, -jocular, irreligious. On a Saturday evening he told Lyttleton, his host, -that he should send his flocks to grass on the approaching Sabbath. “The -next morning,” says Lyttleton, “we hinted to him that the company did -not wish to restrain him from attending the Divine service of the -parish; but he declared that it would be adding contempt to neglect if, -when he had absented himself from his own church he should go to any -other. This curious etiquette he strictly observed; and we passed a -Sabbath contrary, I fear, both to law and to gospel.” - -If we desire to obtain some knowledge of what the Church of England was, -as represented by her clergy when George III. was king, we should go to -her own records; and for the later years of his reign, notably to the -life of that learned, active, and amiable man, Dr. Blomfield, Bishop of -London, whose memory was a wonderful repository of anecdotes, not -tending to elevate the clergy of those times in popular estimation. -Intoxication was a vice very characteristic of the cloth: on one -occasion the bishop reproved one of his Chester clergy for drunkenness: -he replied, “But, my lord, I never was drunk on duty.” “On duty!” -exclaimed the bishop; “and pray, sir, when is a clergyman not on duty?” -“True,” said the other; “my lord, I never thought of that.” The bishop -went into a poor man’s cottage in one of the valleys in the Lake -district, and asked whether his clergyman ever visited him. The poor man -replied that he did very frequently. The bishop was delighted, and -expressed his gratification at this pastoral oversight; and this led to -the discovery that there were a good many foxes on the hills behind the -house, which gave the occasion for the frequency of calls which could -scarcely be considered pastoral. The chaplain and son-in-law of Bishop -North examined candidates for orders in a tent on a cricket-field, he -being engaged as one of the players; the chaplain of Bishop Douglas -examined whilst shaving; Bishop Watson never resided in his diocese -during an episcopate of thirty-four years. - -And those who preached seem rarely to have been of a very edifying order -of preachers; Bishop Blomfield used to relate how, in his boyhood, when -at Bury St. Edmund’s, the Marquis of Bristol had given a number of -scarlet cloaks to some poor old women; they all appeared at church on -the following Sunday, resplendent in their new and bright array, and the -clergyman made the donation of the marquis the subject of his discourse, -announcing his text with a graceful wave of his hand towards the poor -old bodies who were sitting there all together: “Even Solomon, in all -his glory, was not arrayed like one of these!” This worthy seems to have -been very capable of such things: on another occasion a dole of potatoes -was distributed by the local authorities in Bury, and this also was -improved in a sermon. “He had himself,” the bishop says, “a very -corpulent frame, and pompous manner, and a habit of rolling from side to -side while he delivered himself of his breathing thoughts and burning -words; on the occasion of the potato dole, he chose for his singularly -appropriate text (Exodus xvi. 15): ‘And when the children of Israel saw -it, they said one to another, It is manna;’ and thence he proceeded to -discourse to the recipients of the potatoes on the warning furnished by -the Israelites against the sin of gluttony, and the wickedness of taking -more than their share.” - -When that admirable man, Mr. Shirley, began his evangelistic ministry as -the friend and coadjutor of his cousin, the Countess of Huntingdon, a -curate went to the archbishop to complain of his unclerical proceedings: -“Oh, your grace, I have something of great importance to communicate; it -will astonish you!” “Indeed, what can it be?” said the archbishop. “Why, -my lord,” replied he, throwing into his countenance an expression of -horror, and expecting the archbishop to be petrified with astonishment, -“he actually wears white stockings!” “Very unclerical indeed,” said the -archbishop, apparently much surprised; he drew his chair near to the -curate, and with peculiar earnestness, and in a sort of confidential -whisper, said, “Now tell me—I ask this with peculiar feelings of -interest—does Mr. Shirley wear them over his boots?” “Why, no, your -grace, I cannot say he does.” “Well, sir, the first time you ever hear -of Mr. Shirley wearing them over his boots, be so good as to warn me, -and I shall know how to deal with him!” - -We would not, on the other hand, be unjust. We may well believe that -there were hamlets and villages where country clergymen realised their -duties and fulfilled them, and not only deserved all the merit of -Goldsmith’s charming picture,[2] but were faithful ministers of the New -Testament too. But our words and illustrations refer to the average -character presented to us by the Church; and this, again, is illustrated -by the vehement hostility presented on all hands to the first -indications of the Great Revival. For instance, the Rev. Dr. Thomas -Church, Vicar of Battersea, in a well-known sermon on charity schools, -deplored and denounced the enormous wickedness of the times; after -saying, “Our streets are grievously infested; every day we see the most -dreadful confusions, daring villanies, dangers, and mischiefs, arising -from the want of sentiments of piety,” he continues: “For our own sakes -and our posterity’s everything should be encouraged which will -contribute to suppressing these evils, and keep the poor from stealing, -lying, drunkenness, cruelty, or taking God’s name in vain. While we feel -our disease, ’tis madness to set aside any remedy which has power to -check its fury.” Having said this, with a perfectly startling -inconsistency he turns round, and addressing himself to Wesley and the -Methodists, he says, “We cannot but regard you as our most dangerous -enemies.” - -Footnote 2: - - Appendix B. - -When the Great Revival arose, the Church of England set herself, -everywhere, in full array against it; she possessed but few great minds. -The massive intellects of Butler and Berkeley belonged to the -immediately preceding age. The most active intellect on the bench of -bishops was, no doubt, that of Warburton; and it is sad to think that he -descended to a tone of scurrility and injustice in his attack on Wesley, -which, if worthy of his really quarrelsome temper, was altogether -unworthy of his position and his powers. - -Thus, whether we derive our impressions from the so-called Church of -that time, or from society at large, we obtain the evidences of a -deplorable recklessness of all ordinary principles of religion, honour, -or decorum. Bishop Butler had written, in the “Advertisement” to his -_Analogy_, and he appears to have been referring to the clerical and -educated opinion of his time: “It is come, I know not how, to be taken -for granted, by many persons, that Christianity is not so much as a -subject of inquiry; but that it is, now at length, discovered to be -fictitious;” and he wrote his great work for the purpose of arguing the -reasonableness of the christian religion, even on the principles of the -Deism prevalent everywhere around him in the Church and society. Addison -had declared that there was “less appearance of religion in England than -in any neighbouring state or kingdom, whether Protestant or Catholic;” -and Montesquieu came to the country, and having made his notes, -published, probably with some French exaggeration, that there was “no -religion in England, and that the subject, if mentioned in society, -excited nothing but laughter.” - -Such was the state of England, when, as we must think, by the special -providence of God, the voices were heard crying in the wilderness. From -the earlier years of the last century they continued sounding with such -clearness and strength, from the centre to the remotest corners of the -kingdom; from, the coasts, where the Cornish wrecker pursued his strange -craft of crime, along all the highways and hedges, where rudeness and -violence of every description made their occasions for theft, outrage, -and cruelty, until the whole English nation became, as if instinctively, -alive with a new-born soul, and not in vision, but in reality, something -was beheld like that seen by the prophet in the valley of vision—dry -bones clothed with flesh, and standing up “an exceeding great army,” no -longer on the side of corruption and death, but ready with song and -speech, and consistent living, to take their place on the side of the -Lord. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER II - - FIRST STREAKS OF DAWN. - - -In the history of the circumstances which brought about the Great -Revival, we must not fail to notice those which were in action even -before the great apostles of the Revival appeared. We have already given -what may almost be called a silhouette of society, an outline, for the -most part, all dark; and yet in the same period there were relieving -tints, just as sometimes, upon a silhouette-portrait, you have seen an -attempt to throw in some resemblance to the features by a touch of gold. - -Chief among these is one we do not remember ever to have seen noticed in -this connection—the curious invasion of our country by the French at the -close of the seventeenth century. That cruel exodus which poured itself -upon our shores in the great and even horrible persecution of the -Protestants of France, when the blind bigotry of Louis XIV. revoked the -Edict of Nantes, was to us, as a nation, a really incalculable blessing. -It is quite singular, in reading Dr. Smiles’s _Huguenots_, to notice the -large variety of names of illustrious exiles, eminent for learning, -science, character, and rank, who found a refuge here. The folly of the -King of France expelled the chief captains of industry; they came hither -and established their manufactures in different departments, creating -and carrying on new modes of industry. Also great numbers of Protestant -clergymen settled here, and formed respectable French churches; some of -the most eminent ministers of our various denominations at this moment -are descendants of those men. Their descendants are in our peerage; they -are on our bench of bishops; they are at the bar; they stand high in the -ranks of commerce. At the commencement of the eighteenth century, their -ancestors were settled on English shores; in all instances men who had -fled from comfort and domestic peace, in many instances from affluence -and fame, rather than be false to their conscience or to their Saviour. -The cruelties of that dreadful persecution which banished from France -almost every human element it was desirable to retain in it, while they -were, no doubt, there the great ultimate cause of the French Revolution, -brought to England what must have been even as the very seasoning of -society, the salt of our earth in the subsequent age of corruption. Most -of the children of these men were brought up in the discipline of -religious households, such as that which Sir Samuel Romilly—himself one -of the descendants of an earlier band of refugees. Dr. Watts’s mother -was a child of a French exile. Clusters of them grew up in many -neighbourhoods in the country, notably in Southampton, Norwich, -Canterbury, in many parts of London, where Spitalfields especially was a -French colony. When the Revival commenced, these were ready to aid its -various movements by their character and influence. Some fell into the -Wesleyan ranks, though, probably, most, like the eminent scholar and -preacher, William Romaine, one of the sons of the exile, maintained the -more Calvinistic faith, reflecting most nearly the old creed of the -Huguenot. - -This surmise of the influence of that noble invasion upon the national -well-being of Britain is justified by inference from the facts. It is -very interesting to attempt to realise the religious life of eminent -activity and usefulness sustained in different parts of the country -before the Revival dawned, and which must have had an influence in -fostering it when it arose. And, indeed, while we would desire to give -all grateful honour to the extraordinary men (especially to such a man -as John Wesley, who achieved so much through a life in which the length -and the usefulness were equal to each other, since only when he died did -he cease to animate by his personal influence the immense organisation -he had formed), yet it seems really impossible to regard any one mind as -the seed and source of the great movement. It was as if some cyclone of -spiritual power swept all round the nation—or, as if a subtle, unseen -train had been laid by many men, simultaneously, in many counties, and -the spark was struck, and the whole was suddenly wrapped in a Divine -flame. - -Dr. Abel Stevens, in his most interesting, indeed, charming history of -Methodism, from his point of view, gives to his own beloved leader and -Church the credit of the entire movement; so also does Mr. Tyerman, in -his elaborate life of Wesley. But this is quite contrary to all -dispassionate dealing with facts; there were many men and many means in -quiet operation, some of these even before Wesley was born, of which his -prehensile mind availed itself to draw them into his gigantic work; and -there were many which had operated, and continued to operate, which -would not fit themselves into his exact, and somewhat exacting, groove -of Church life. - -We have said it was as if a cyclone of spiritual power were steadily -sweeping round the minds of men and nations, for there were -undoubted gusts of remarkable spiritual life in both hemispheres, at -least fifty years before Methodism had distinctly asserted itself as -a fact. Most remarkable was the “Great Awakening” in America, in -Massachusetts—especially at Northampton (that is a remarkable story, -which will always be associated with the name of Jonathan -Edwards).[3] We have referred to the exodus of the persecuted from -France; equally remarkable was another exodus of persecuted -Protestants from Salzburg, in Austria. The madness of the Church of -Rome again cast forth an immense host of the holiest and most -industrious citizens. At the call of conscience they marched forth -in a body, taking joyfully the spoiling of their goods rather than -disavow their faith: such men with their families are a treasure to -any nation amongst whom they may settle. Thomas Carlyle has paid a -glowing historical eulogy to the memory of these men, and the exodus -has furnished Goethe with the subject of one of his most charming -poems. - -Footnote 3: - - See Appendix C. - -Philip Doddridge’s work was almost done before the Methodist movement -was known. It seems to us that no adequate honour has ever yet been paid -to that most beautiful and remarkably inclusive life. It was public, it -was known and noticed, but it was passed almost in retreat in -Northampton. That he was a preacher and pastor of a Church was but a -slight portion of the life which succumbed, yet in the prime of his -days, to consumption. His academy for the education of young ministers -seems to us, even now, something like a model of what such an academy -should be; his lectures to his students are remarkably full and -scholarly and complete. From thence went forth men like the saintly -Risdon Darracott, the scholarly and suggestive Hugh Farmer, Benjamin -Fawcett, and Andrew Kippis. The hymns of Doddridge were among the -earliest, as they are still among the sweetest, of that kind of offering -to our modern Church; their clear, elevated, thrush-like sweetness, like -the more uplifted seraphic trumpet tones of Watts, broke in upon a time -when there was no sacred song worthy of the name in the Church, and -anticipated the hour when the melodious acclamations of the people -should be one of the most cherished elements of Christian service. - -[Illustration: - - ISAAC WATTS. -] - -And Isaac Watts was, by far, the senior of Doddridge; he lived very much -the life of a hermit. Although the pastor of a city church, he was -sequestered and withdrawn from public life in Theobalds, or Stoke -Newington, where, however, he prosecuted a course of sacred labor of a -marvellously manifold description, inter-meddling with every kind of -learning, and consecrating it all to the great end of the christian -ministry and the producing of books, which, whether as catechisms for -children, treatises for the formation of mental character, philosophic -essays grappling with the difficulties of scholarly minds, or -“comfortable words” to “rock the cradle of declining age,” were all to -become of value when the nation should awake to a real spiritual power. -They are mostly laid aside now; but they have served more than one -generation well; and he, beyond question, was the first who taught the -Protestant Christian Church in England to sing. His hymns and psalms -were sounding on when John Wesley was yet a child, and numbers of them -were appropriated in the first Methodist hymn-book. But Watts and -Doddridge, by the conditions of their physical and mental being, were -unfitted for popular leaders. Perhaps, also, it must be admitted that -they had not that which has been called the “instinct for souls;” they -were concerned rather to illustrate and expound the truth of God, and to -“adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour,” by their lives, than to flash -new convictions into the hearts of men. It is characteristic that, good -and great as they were, they were both at first inimical to the Great -Revival; it seemed to them a suspicious movement. The aged Watts -cautioned his younger friend Doddridge against encouraging it, -especially the preaching of Whitefield; yet they both lived to give -their whole hearts to it; and some of Watts’s last words were in -blessing, when, near death, he received a visit from the great -evangelist. - -[Illustration: - - PHILIP DODDRIDGE. -] - -Thus we need to notice a little carefully the age immediately preceding -the rise of what we call Methodism, in order to understand what -Methodism really effected; we have seen that the dreadful condition of -society was not inconsistent with the existence over the country of -eminently holy men, and of even hallowed christian families and circles. -If space allowed, it would be very pleasant to step into, and sketch the -life of many an interior; and it would scarcely be a work of fancy, but -of authentic knowledge. There were yet many which almost retained the -character of Puritan households, and among them several baronial halls. -Nor ought we to forget that those consistent: and high-minded Christian -folk, the Quakers [Friends], were a much larger body then than now, -although, like the Shunammite lady, they especially dwelt among their -own people. The Moravians also were in England; but all existed like -little scattered hamlet patches of spiritual life; they were respectably -conservative of their own usages. Methodism brought enthusiasm to -religion, and the instinct for souls, united to a power of organisation -hitherto unknown to the religious life. - -[Illustration: - - Doddridge’s House, Northampton. -] - -At what hour shall we fix the earliest dawn of the Great Revival? Among -the earliest tints of the “morning spread upon the mountains,” which was -to descend into the valley, and illuminate all the plains, was the -conversion of that extraordinary woman, Selina Shirley, the Countess of -Huntingdon; it is scarcely too much to call her the Mother of the -Revival; it is not too much to apply to her the language of the great -Hebrew song—“The inhabitants of the villages ceased, they ceased until -that I arose: I arose a mother in Israel.” She illustrates the -difference of which we spoke just now, for there can be no doubt that -she had a passionate instinct for souls, to do good to souls, to save -souls. Her injunctions for the destruction of all her private papers -have been so far complied with as to leave the earlier history of her -mind, and the circumstances which brought about her conversion, for the -most part unknown. It is certain that she was on terms of intimate -friendship with both Watts and Doddridge, but especially with Doddridge. -Another intimate friend of the Countess was Watts’s very close friend, -the Duchess of Somerset; and thus the links of the story seem to run, -like that old and well-known instance of communicated influence, when -Andrew found his own brother, Simon, and these in turn found Philip and -Nathaniel. It was very natural that, beholding the state of society -about her, she should be interested, first, as it seems, for those of -her own order; it was at a later time, when she became acquainted with -Whitefield, that he justified her drawing-room assemblies, by reminding -her—not, perhaps, with exact critical propriety—of the text in -Galatians, where Paul mentioned how he preached “privately to those of -reputation.”[4] For some time this appears to have been the aim of the -good Countess, much in accordance with that pretty saying of hers, that -“there was a text in which she blessed God for the insertion of the -letter M: ‘not _m_any noble.’” The beautiful Countess was a heroine in -her own line from the earliest days of her conversion. Belonging to one -of the noblest families of England, she had an entrance to the highest -circles, and her heart felt very pitiful for, especially, the women of -fashion around her, brokenhearted with disappointment, or sick with -_ennui_. - -Footnote 4: - - Appendix D. - -Among these was Sarah, the great Duchess of Marlborough, apparently one -of the intimate friends of the Countess; her letters are most -characteristic. She mentions that the Duchess of Ancaster, Lady -Townshend, and others, had just heard Mr. Whitefield preach, and “What -they said of the sermon has made me lament ever since that I did not -hear it; it might have been the means of doing me some good, for good, -alas! I do want; but where among the corrupt sons and daughters of Adam -am I to find it?” She goes on: “Dear, good Lady Huntingdon, I have no -comfort in my own family; I hope you will shortly come and see me; I -always feel more happy and more contented after an hour’s conversation -with you; when alone, my reflections and recollection almost kill me. -Now there is Lady Frances Saunderson’s great rout to-morrow night; all -the world will be there, and I must go. I hate that woman as much as I -hate a physician, but I must go, if for no other purpose than to mortify -and spite her. This is very wicked, I know, but I confess all my little -peccadilloes to you, for I know your goodness will lead you to be mild -and forgiving; and perhaps my wicked heart may gain some good from you -in the end.” And then she closes her note with some remarks on “that -crooked, perverse little wretch at Twickenham,” by which pleasant -designation she means the poet, Pope. - -Another, and another order of character, was the Duchess of Buckingham; -she came to hear Whitefield preach in the drawing-room, and was quite -scandalised. In a letter to the Countess, she says, “The doctrines are -most repulsive, and strongly tinctured with impertinence: it is -monstrous to be told that you have a heart as sinful as the common -wretches that crawl the earth; this is highly offensive and insulting, -and I cannot but wonder that your ladyship should relish any sentiments -so much at variance with high rank and good breeding.” Such were some of -the materials the Countess attempted to gather in her drawing-rooms, if -possible to cure the aching of empty hearts. If the two duchesses met -together, it is very likely they would be antipathetic to each other; a -prouder old lady than Sarah, the English empire did not contain, but she -was proud that she was the wife and widow of the great Marlborough. The -Duchess of Buckingham was equally proud that she was the natural -daughter of James II. When her son, the Duke of Buckingham, died, she -sent to the old Duchess of Marlborough to borrow the magnificent car -which had borne John Churchill’s body to the Abbey, and the fiery old -Duchess sent her back word, “It had carried Lord Marlborough, and should -never be profaned by any other corpse.” The message was not likely to -act as an _entente cordiale_ in such society as we have described. - -The mention of these names will show the reader that we are speaking of -a time when the Revival had not wrought itself into a great movement. -The Countess continued to make enthusiastic efforts for those of her own -order—we are afraid, with a few distinguished exceptions, without any -great amount of success; but certainly, were it possible for us to look -into the drawing-room in South Audley Street, in those closing years of -the reign of George II., we might well be astonished at the brilliancy -of the concourse, and the finding ourselves in the company of some of -the most distinguished names of the highest rank and fashion of the -period. It was the age of that cold, sardonic sneerer, Horace Walpole; -he writes to Florence, to his friend Sir Horace Mann, in his scoffing -fashion: “If you ever think of returning to England, you must prepare -yourself with Methodism; this sect increases as fast as almost any -religious nonsense ever did; Lady Fanny Shirley has chosen this way of -bestowing the dregs of her beauty, and Lyttleton is very near making the -same sacrifice of the dregs of all those various characters that he has -worn. The Methodists love your big sinners as proper subjects to work -upon, and indeed they have a plentiful harvest.” Then he satirises Lady -Ferrars, whom he styles “General, my Lady Dowager Ferrars.” But, indeed, -it is impossible to enumerate the names of all, or any proportion of the -number who attended this brilliant circle. Sometimes unhappy events took -place; Mr. Whitefield was sometimes too dreadfully, although -unconsciously, faithful. Lady Rockingham, who really seems to have been -inclined to do good, begged the Countess to permit her to bring the -Countess of Suffolk, well known as the powerful mistress of George II. -Whitefield “knew nothing of the matter;” but some arrow “drawn at a -venture,” and which probably might have as well fitted many another lady -about the court or in that very room, exactly hit the Countess. However -much she fidgeted with irritation, she sat out the service in silence; -but, as soon as it was over, the beautiful fury burst forth in all the -stormful speech of a termagant or virago. She abused Lady Huntingdon; -she declared that the whole service had been a premeditated attack upon -herself. Her relatives, Lady Bertie, the celebrated Lady Betty Germain, -the Duchess of Ancaster, one of the most beautiful women in England, and -who, afterwards, with the Duchess of Hamilton, conducted the future -queen of George III. to England’s shores, expostulated with her, -commanded her to be silent, and attempted to explain her mistake; they -insisted that she should apologise to Lady Huntingdon for her behaviour, -and, in an ungracious manner, she did so; but we learn that she never -honoured the assembly again with her presence. - -What a singular assembly from time to time! the square dark face of that -old gentleman, painfully hobbling in on his crutched stick—face once as -handsome as that of St. John, now the disappointed, moody features of -the massive, but sceptical intelligence of Bolingbroke; poor worn-out -old Chesterfield, cold and courtly, yet seeming so genial and humane, -coming again and again, and yet again; those reckless wits, and leaders -of the _ton_ and all high society, Bubb Doddington, afterwards Lord -Melcombe, and George Selwyn; the Duchess of Montague, with her young -daughter; Lady Cardigan, often there, if her mother, Sarah of -Marlborough, were but seldom a visitor. Charles Townshend, the great -minister, often came; and his friend, Lord Lyttleton, who really must -have been in sympathy with some of the objects of the assembly, if we -may judge from his _Essay on the Conversion of St. Paul_, a piece of -writing which will never lose its value. There you might have seen even -the great commoner, William Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham; but we can -understand why he would be there to listen to the manifold notes of an -eloquence singularly resembling, in many particulars, his own. And, in -fact, where such persons were present, we might be sure that the entire -nobility of the country was represented. It might be tempting to loiter -amidst these scenes a little longer. It was an experiment made by the -Countess; she probably found it almost a failure, and, in the course of -a few years, turned her attention to the larger ideas connected with the -evangelisation of England, and the training of young men for the work of -the ministry. She long outlived all those brilliant hosts she had -gathered round her in the prime of life. But we cannot doubt that some -good was effected by this preaching to “people of reputation.” Courtiers -like Walpole sneered, but it saved the movement to a great degree, when -it became popular, from being suspected as the result of political -faction; and probably, as all these nobles and gentry passed away to -their various country seats, when they heard of the preachers in their -neighbourhoods, and received the complaints of the bishops and their -clergy, with some contempt for the messengers, they were able to feel, -and to say, that there was nothing much more dreadful than the love of -God and His good will to men in their message. - -It seems a very sudden leap from the saloons of the West End to a -Lincolnshire kitchen; but in the kitchen of that most romantic old -vicarage of Epworth, it has been truly said, the most vigorous form of -Methodism had its origin. There, at the close of the seventeenth -century, and the commencement of the eighteenth, lived and laboured old -Samuel Wesley, the father of John and Charles Wesley. Samuel was in -every sense a wonderful man, more wonderful than most people know, -though Mr. Tyerman has done his best to set him forth in a very clear -and pleasant light, in his very entertaining biography. Scholar, -preacher, pastor, and poet was Samuel Wesley; he led a life full of -romantic incident, and full of troubles, of which the two most notable -are debts and ghosts: debts, we must say, in passing, which had more to -do with unavoidable calamity than with any personal imprudence. The good -man would have been shocked, and have counted it one of his sorest -troubles, could he, in some real horoscope, have forecast what “Jackey,” -his son John, was to be. But it was his wife, Susannah Wesley, patient -housewife, much-enduring, much-suffering woman, Mary and Martha in one, -saint as sacredly sweet as any who have seemed worthy of a place in any -calendar of saints, Catholic or Protestant, mother of children, all of -whom were remarkable—two of them wonderful, and a third highly -eminent—it was Susannah Wesley, whose instinct for souls led her to look -abroad over all the parish in which she lived, with a tender, spiritual -affection; in her husband’s absence, turning the large kitchen into a -church, inviting her poor neighbours into it, and, somewhat at first to -the distress of her husband, preaching to and praying with them there. -This brief reference can only memorialise her name; read John Kirk’s -little volume, and learn to love and revere “the mother of the Wesleys!” -The freedom and elevation of her religious life, and her practical -sagacity, it is not difficult to see, must have given hints and ideas -which took shape and body in the large movement of which her son John -came to be regarded, and is still regarded, as the patriarch. Thus Isaac -Taylor says, “The Wesleys’ mother was the mother of Methodism in a -religious and moral sense, for her courage, her submissiveness to -authority, the high tone of her mind, its independence, and its -self-control, the warmth of her devotional feelings, and the practical -direction given to them, came up, and were visibly repeated in the -character and conduct of her sons.” Later on in life she became one of -the wisest advisers of her son, in his employment of the auxiliaries to -his own usefulness. Perhaps, if we could see spirits as they are, we -might see in this woman a higher and loftier type of life than in either -of those who first received life from her bosom; some of her quiet words -have all the passion and sweetness of Charles’s hymns. Our space will -not permit many quotations, but take the following words, and the sweet -meditation in prose of the much-enduring, and often patiently suffering -lady in the old world country vicarage, which read like many of her -son’s notes in verse: “If to esteem and have the highest reverence for -Thee; if constantly and sincerely to acknowledge Thee the supreme, and -only desirable good, be to love Thee, I DO LOVE THEE! If to rejoice in -Thy essential majesty and glory; if to feel a vital joy overspread and -cheer the heart at each perception of Thy blessedness, at every thought -that Thou art God, and that all things are in Thy power; that there is -none superior or equal to Thee, be to love Thee, I DO LOVE THEE! If -comparatively to despise and undervalue all the world contains, which is -esteemed great, fair, or good; if earnestly and constantly to desire -Thee, Thy favour, Thy acceptance, Thyself, rather than any, or all -things Thou hast created, be to love Thee, I DO LOVE THEE!” At length -she died as she had lived, her last words to her sons breathing the -spirit of her singular life: “Children, as soon as I am released, sing a -psalm of praise to God!” - -Thus, from the polite circles of London, from the obscure old farm-like -vicarage, the rude and rough old English home, events were preparing -themselves. John Wesley was born in 1703; the Countess of Huntingdon in -1707: near in their birth time, how far apart the scenery and the -circumstances in which their eyes first opened to the light. Whitefield -was born later, amidst the still less auspicious scenery of the old Bell -Inn, at Gloucester, in 1714. These were undoubtedly among the foremost -names in the great palpitation of thought, feeling, and holy action the -country was to experience. Future chapters will show a number of other -names, which were simultaneously coming forth and educating for the -great conflict. So it has always been, and singularly so, as -illustrating the order of Providence, and the way in which it gives a -new personality to the men whom it designs to aid its purposes. In every -part of the country, all unknown to each other, in families separated by -position and taste, by birth and circumstances, a band of workers was -preparing to produce an entire moral change in the features of the -country. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER III - - OXFORD: NEW LIGHTS AND OLD LANTERNS. - - -It is remarkable that one of the very earliest movements of the new -evangelical succession should manifest itself in Oxford—many minded -Oxford—whose distant spires and antique towers have looked down through -so many ages upon the varying opinions which have surged up around and -within her walls. Lord Bacon has somewhere said that the opinions, -feelings, and thoughts of the young men of any present generation -forecast the whole popular mind of the future age. No remark can be more -true, as exhibited generally in fact. Thus it is not too much to say -that Oxford has usually been a barometer of coming opinions: either by -her adhesion or antagonism to them, she has indicated the pathway of the -nearing weather, either for calm or storm. It was so in the dark ages, -with the old scholastic philosophy; it was so in the times immediately -succeeding them: in our own day, the great Tractarian movement, with all -its influences Rome-ward, arose in Oxford; later still, the strong -tendencies of high intellectual infidelity, and denial of the sacred -prerogatives and rights of the Holy Scriptures, sent forth some of their -earliest notes from Oxford. Oxford has been likened to the magnificent -conservatory at Chatsworth, where art combines with nature, and achieves -all that wealth and taste could command; but the air is heavy and close, -and rich as the forms and colours are around the spectator, there is -depression and repression, even a sense of oppression, upon the spirits, -and we are glad to escape into the breezy chase, and among the old trees -again. This is hardly true of Oxford; no doubt the air is hushed, and -the influences combine to weigh down the mere visitor by a sense of the -hoariness of the past, and the black antiquity and frost of ages; but -somehow there is a mind in Oxford which is always alive—not merely a -scholarly knowledge, but a subtle apprehension of the coming winds—even -as certain creatures forebode and know the coming storm before the rain -falls or the thunder rolls. - -We may presume that most of our readers are acquainted with the -designation, “the Oxford Methodists;” but, perhaps, some are not aware -that the term was applied to a cluster of young students, who, in a time -when the university was delivered over to the usual dissoluteness and -godless indifference of the age, met together in each other’s rooms for -the purpose of sustaining each other in the determination to live a holy -life, and to bring their mutual help to the reading and opening of the -Word of God. From different parts of the country they met together -there; when they went forth, their works, their spheres were different; -but the power and the beauty of the old college days seem to have -accompanied them through life; they realised the Divine life as a real -power from that commencement to the close of their career, although it -is equally interesting to notice how the framework of their opinions -changed. Some of their names are comparatively unknown now, but John and -Charles Wesley, George Whitefield, and James Hervey, are well known; nor -is John Gambold unknown, nor Benjamin Ingham, who married into the -family of the Countess of Huntingdon, of whom we will speak a little -more particularly when we visit the wild Yorkshire of those days; nor -Morgan of Christ Church, whose influence is described as the most -beautiful of all, a young man of delicate constitution and intense -enthusiasm, who visited and talked with the prisoners in the -neighbourhood, visited the cottages around to read and pray, left his -memory as a blessing upon his companions, and was very early called away -to his reward. This obscure life seems to have been one most honoured in -that which came to be called by the wits of Oxford, “The Holy Club.” - -It was just about this time that Voltaire was predicting that, in the -next generation, Christianity would be overthrown and unknown throughout -the whole civilised world. Christianity has lived through, and long -outlived many such predictions. Voltaire had said, “It took twelve men -to set up Christianity; it would only take one” (conceitedly referring -to himself) “to overthrow it;” but the work of those whom he called the -“twelve men” is still of some account in the world—their words are still -of some authority, and there are very few people on the face of the -earth at this moment who know much of, and fewer still who care much for -the wit of the vain old infidel. That Voltaire’s prediction was not -fulfilled, under the Providential influence of that Divine Spirit who -never leaves us in our low estate, was greatly owing to this obscure and -despised “Holy Club” of Oxford. These young men were feeling their way, -groping, as they afterwards admitted, and somewhat in the dark, after -those experiences, which, as they were to be assurances to themselves, -should be also their most certain means of usefulness to others. - -They were also called Methodists. It is singular, but neither the -precise etymology nor the first appropriation of the term Methodist has, -we believe, ever been distinctly or satisfactorily settled. Some have -derived it from an allusion in Juvenal to a quack physician, some to a -passage from the writings of Chrysostom, who says, “to be a methodist is -to be beguiled,” and which was employed in a pamphlet against Mr. -Whitefield. Like some other phrases, it is not easy to settle its first -import or importation into our language. Certainly it is much older than -the times to which this book especially refers. It seems to be even -contemporary with the term Puritan, since we find Spencer, the librarian -of Sion College under Cromwell, writing, “Where are now our Anabaptists -and plain pack-staff Methodists, who esteem all flowers of rhetoric in -sermons no better than stinking weeds?” A writer in the _British -Quarterly_ tells a curious story how once in a parish church in -Huntingdonshire, he was listening to a clergyman, notorious alike by his -private character and vehement intolerance, who was entertaining his -audience, on a week evening, by a discourse from the text, Ephesians iv. -14, “Whereby they lie in wait to deceive.” He said to his people, “Now, -you do not know Greek; I know Greek, and I am going to tell you what -this text really says; it says, ‘they lie in wait to make you -Methodists.’ The word used here is _Methodeian_, that is really the word -that is used, and that is really what Paul said, ‘They lie in wait to -make you Methodists’—a Methodist means a deceiver, and one who deludes, -cheats, and beguiles.” The Grecian scholar was a little at fault in his -next allusion, for he proceeded to quote that other text, “We are not -ignorant of his devices,” and seemed to be under the impression that -“device” was the same word as that on which he had expended his -criticism. “Now,” said he, “you may be ignorant, because you do not know -Greek, but we are not ignorant of his devices, that is, of his methods, -his deceivers, that is, his Methodists.” In such empty wit and ignorant -punning it is very likely that the term had its origin. - -John Wesley passed through a long, singular, and what we may call a -parti-coloured experience, before his mind came out into the light. In -those days his mind was a singular combination of High Churchism, -amounting to what we should call Ritualism now, and mysticism, both of -which influences he brought from Epworth: the first from his father, the -second from the strong fascination of the writings of William Law. He -found, however, in the “Holy Club” that which helped him. He tells us -how, when at Epworth, he travelled many miles to see a “serious man,” -and to take counsel from him. “Sir,” said this person, as if the right -word were given to him at the right moment, exactly meeting the -necessities of the man standing before him, “Sir, you wish to serve God -and to go to heaven: remember you cannot serve Him alone; you must -therefore find companions, or make them. The Bible knows nothing of -solitary religion.” It must be admitted that the enthusiasm of the -mystics has always been rather personal than social; but the society at -Oxford was almost monastic, nor is it wonderful that, with the spectacle -of the dissolute life around them, these earnest men adopted rules of -the severest self-denial and asceticism. John Wesley arrived in Oxford -first in 1720; he left for some time. Returning home to assist his -father, he became, as we know, to his father’s immense exultation, -Fellow of Lincoln College. - -In 1733 George Whitefield arrived at Oxford, then in his nineteenth -year. Like most of this band, Whitefield was, if not really, -comparatively poor, and dependent upon help to enable him to pursue his -studies; not so poor, perhaps, as an illustrious predecessor in the same -college (Pembroke), who had left only the year before, one Samuel -Johnson, the state of whose shoes excited so much commiseration in some -benevolent heart, that a pair of new ones was placed outside his rooms, -only, however, creating surprise in the morning, when he was seen -indignantly kicking them up and down the passage. Whitefield was not -troubled by such over-sensitive and delicate feelings; men are made -differently. Johnson’s rugged independence did its work; and the easy -facility and amiable disposition, which could receive favours without a -sense of degradation, were very essential to what Whitefield was to be. -He, however, when he came to Oxford, was caught in the same glamour of -mysticism as John Wesley. But in this case it was Thomas à-Kempis who -had besieged the soul of the young enthusiast; he was miserable, his -life, his heart and mind were crushed beneath this altogether inhuman -and unattainable standard for salvation. He was a Quietist—what a -paradox!—Whitefield a Quietist! He was seeking salvation by works of -righteousness which he could do. He was practising the severest -austerities and renouncing the claims of an external world; he was -living an internal life which God did not intend should bring to him -either rest or calm; for, in that case, how could he ever have stirred -the deep foundations of universal sympathy? - -But that heart, whose very mould was tenderness, was easily called aside -by the sight of suffering; and there is an interesting story, how, at -this time, in one of his walks by the banks of the river, in such a -frame of mind as we have described, he met a poor woman whose appearance -was discomposed. Naturally enough, he talked with her, and found that -her husband was in the gaol in Oxford, that she had run away from home, -unable to endure any longer the crying of her children from hunger, and -that she even then meditated drowning herself. He gave her immediate -relief, but arranged with her to meet him, and see her husband together -in the evening at the prison. He appears to have done them both good, -ministering to their temporal necessities; he prayed with them, brought -them to the knowledge of the grace which saves, and late on in life he -says, “They are both now living, and I trust will be my joy and crown of -rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus.” Happy is the man to whose life -such an incident as this is given; it calls life away from its dreary -introspections, and sets it upon a trail of outwardness, which is -spiritual health; no one can attain to much religious happiness until he -knows that he has been the means of good to some suffering soul. Faith -grows in us by the revelation that we have been used to do good to -others. - -It was about this time that Charles Wesley met Whitefield moodily -walking through the college corridors. The misery of his appearance -struck him, and he invited him to his rooms to breakfast. The memory of -the meeting never passed away; Charles Wesley refers to it in his elegy -on Whitefield. In a short time he leaped forth into spiritual freedom, -and almost immediately became, youth as he was, preacher, and we may -almost say, apostle. The change in his mind seems to have been as -instantaneous and as luminous as Luther’s at Erfurt. Whitefield was at -work, commencing upon his own great scale, long before the Wesleys. John -had to go to America, and to be entangled there by his High Church -notions; and then there were his Moravian proclivities, so that, -altogether, years passed by before he found his way out into a light so -clear as to be able to reflect it on the minds of others. - -To some of the members of this “Holy Club,” we shall not be able to -refer again; we must, therefore, mention them now. Especially is some -reference due to James Hervey; his name is now rather a legend and -tradition than an active influence in our religious literature; but how -popular once, do not the oldest memories amongst us well know? On some -important points of doctrine he parted company from his friends and -fellow-students, the Wesleys. John Wesley used to declare that he -himself was not converted till his thirty-seventh year, so that we must -modify any impressions we may have from similar declarations made by the -amiable Vicar of Weston Favel: the term conversion, used in such a -sense, in all probability means simply a change in the point of view, an -alteration of opinion, giving a more clear apprehension of truth. Hervey -was always infirm in health, tall, spectral; and, while possessing a -mind teeming with pleasing and poetic fancies, and a power of perceiving -happy analogies, we should regard him as singularly wanting in that fine -solvent of all true genius, geniality. Hence, all his letters read like -sermons; but his poor, infirm frame was the tabernacle of an intensely -fervent soul. Shortly after his settlement in his village in -Northamptonshire he was recommended by his physician to follow the -plough, that he might receive the scent of the fresh earth; a curious -recommendation, but it led to a conversation with the ploughman, which -completely overturned the young scholar’s scheme of theology. The -ploughman was a member of the Church of Dr. Doddridge, afterwards one of -Hervey’s most intimate friends. As they walked together, the young -minister asked the old ploughman what he thought was the hardest thing -in religion? The ploughman very respectfully returned the question. -Hervey replied, “I think the hardest thing in religion is to deny sinful -self,” and he proceeded, at some length, of course, to dilate upon and -expound the difficulty, from which our readers will see that, at this -time, his mind must have been under the same influences as those we meet -in _The Imitation_ of Thomas à-Kempis. “No, sir,” said the old -ploughman, “the hardest thing in religion is to deny righteous self,” -and he proceeded to unfold the principles of his faith. At the time, -Hervey thought the ploughman a fool, but the conversation was not -forgotten, and he declares that it was this view of things which created -for him a new creed. Our readers, perhaps, know his _Theron and -Aspasia_: we owe that book to the conversation with the ploughman; all -its pages, alive with descriptions of natural scenery, historical and -classical allusion, and glittering with chromatic fancy through the -three thick volumes, are written for the purpose of unfolding and -enforcing—to put it in old theological phraseology—the imputed and -imparted righteousness of Christ, the great point of divergence in -teaching between Hervey and John Wesley. - -Thus the term Methodism cannot, any more than Christianity, be contented -with, or contained in one particular line of opinion. Thus, for -instance, among the members of the “Holy Club” we find the two Wesleys -and others distinctly Arminian—the apostles of that form of thought -which especially teaches us that we must attain to the grace of God; -while Whitefield first, and Hervey afterwards, became the teachers of -that doctrine which announces the irresistible grace of God as that -which is outside of us, and comes down upon us. No doubt the doctrines -were too sharply separated by their respective leaders. In the ultimate -issue, both believed alike that all was of grace, and all of God; but -experience makes every man’s point of view; as he feels, so he sees. The -grand thought about all these men in this Great Revival was that they -believed in, and untiringly and with immense confidence announced, that -which smote upon the minds of their hearers almost like a new -revelation; in an age of indifference and Deism they declared that “the -grace of God hath appeared unto all men.” - -There is a very interesting anecdote showing how, about this time, even -the massive and sardonic intellect of Lord Bolingbroke almost gave way. -He was called upon once by a High Church dignitary, his intimate friend, -Dr. Church, Vicar of Battersea, and Prebendary of St. Paul’s, to whom we -have already referred as from the first opposed to the Revival, and, to -the doctor’s amazement, he found Bolingbroke reading Calvin’s -_Institutes_. The peer asked the preacher, the infidel the professed -Christian, what he thought of it. “Oh,” said the doctor, “we think -nothing of such antiquated stuff; we think it enough to preach the -importance of morality and virtue, and have long given up all that talk -about Divine grace.” Bolingbroke’s face and eyes were a study at all -times, but we could wish to have seen him turn in his chair, and fix his -eyes on the vicar as he said: “Look you, doctor. You know I don’t -believe the Bible to be a Divine revelation, but those who do can never -defend it but upon the principle of the doctrine of Divine grace. To say -the truth, there have been times when I have been almost persuaded to -believe it upon this view of things; and there is one argument I have -felt which has gone very far with me on behalf of its authenticity, -which is, that the belief in it exists upon earth even when committed to -the care of such as you, who pretend to believe in it, and yet deny the -only principle upon which it is defensible.” The worn-out statesman and -hard-headed old peer hit the question of his own day, and forecast all -the sceptical strife of ours; for all such questions are summed in one, -Is there supernatural grace, and has that grace appeared unto men? This -was the one faith of all these revivalists. The world was eager to hear -it, for the aching heart of the world longs to believe that it is true. -The conversation we have recited shows that even Bolingbroke wished that -it might be true. - -[Illustration: - - WESTON FAVEL CHURCH, - (Where James Hervey Preached.) -] - -The new creed of Hervey changed the whole character of his preaching. -The little church of Weston Favel, a short distance from the town of -Northampton, became quite a shrine for pilgrimages; he was often -compelled to preach in the churchyard. He was assuredly an intense lover -of natural scenery, a student of natural theology of the old school. His -writing is now said to be meretricious and gaudy. One critic says that -children will always prefer a red to a white sugar-plum, and that the -tea is nicer to them when they drink it from a cup painted with coloured -flowers; and this, perhaps, not unfairly, describes the style of Hervey; -we have prettiness rather than power, elegant disquisition rather than -nervous expression, which is all the more wonderful, as he must have -been an accomplished Latin scholar. But he had a mind of gorgeous -fullness, and his splendid conceptions bore him into a train of what now -seem almost glittering extravagances. Hervey was in the manner of his -life a sickly recluse, and we easily call up the figure of the old -bachelor—for he never married—alternately watching his saucepan of gruel -on the fire, and his favourite microscope on the study table. He was -greatly beloved by the Countess of Huntingdon, perhaps yet more by Lady -Fanny Shirley—the subject of Walpole’s sneer. He was, no doubt, the -writer of the movement, and its thoughts in his books must have seemed -like “butter in a lordly dish.” But his course was comparatively brief; -his work was accomplished at the age of forty-five. He died in his -chair, his last words, “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in -peace, for mine eyes have seen Thy most comfortable salvation;” shortly -after, “The conflict is over; all is done;” the last words of all, -“Precious salvation.” And so passed away one of the most amiable and -accomplished of all the revivalists. - -John Gambold, although ever an excellent and admirable man, lived the -life rather of a secluded mystic, than that of an active reformer. He -became a minister of the Church of England, but afterwards left that -communion, not from any dissensions either from the doctrines or the -discipline of the Church, but simply because he found his spiritual -relationships more in harmony with those of the Moravians, of whose -Church he died a bishop. We presume few readers are acquainted with his -poetical works; nor are there many words among them of remarkable -strength. _The Mystery of Life_ is certainly pleasingly impressive; and -his epitaph on himself deserves quotation: - - “Ask not, ‘Who ended here his span?’ - His name, reproach, and praise, was Man. - ‘Did no great deeds adorn his course?’ - No deed of his but showed him worse: - One thing was great, which God supplied, - He suffered human life—and died. - ‘What points of knowledge did he gain?’ - That life was sacred all—and vain: - ‘Sacred, how high? and vain, how low?’ - He knew not here, but died to know.” - -Such were some of the men who went forth from Oxford. Meantime, as the -flame of revival was spreading, Oxford again starts into singular -notice; how the “Holy Club” escaped official censure and condemnation -seems strange, but in 1768 the members of a similar club were, for -meeting together for prayer and reading the Scriptures, all summarily -expelled from the university. Their number was seven. Several of the -heads of houses spoke in their favour, the principal of their own hall, -Dr. Dixon, moved an amendment against their expulsion, on the ground of -their admirable conduct and exemplary piety. Not a word was alleged -against them, only that some of them were the sons of tradesmen, and -that all of them “held Methodistical tenets, taking upon them to pray, -read and expound the Scriptures, and sing hymns at private houses.” -These practices were considered as hostile to the Articles and interests -of the Church of England, and sentence was pronounced against them. - -Of course this expulsion created a great agitation at the time; and as -the moral character of the young men was so perfectly unimpeachable, it -no doubt greatly aided the cause of the Revival. Dr. Horne, Bishop of -Norwich, author of the Commentary _On the Psalms_—no Methodist, although -an admirable and evangelical man—denounced the measure in a pamphlet in -the strongest terms. The well-known wit and Baptist minister of -Devonshire Square in London, Macgowan, lashed the transaction in his -piece called _The Shaver_. All the young men seem to have turned out -well. Some, like Thomas Jones, who afterwards became curate of Clifton, -and married the sister of Lady Austen, Cowper’s friend—found admission -into the Church of England; the others instantly found help from the -Countess of Huntingdon, who sent them to finish their studies at her -college in Trevecca, and afterwards secured them places in connection -with her work of evangelisation. The transaction gives a singular idea -of what Oxford was in 1768, and prepares us for the vehement -persecutions by which the representatives of Oxford all over the country -armed themselves to resist the Revival, whilst it justifies our -designation of this chapter, “New Lights and Old Lanterns.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - CAST OUT FROM THE CHURCH—TAKING TO THE FIELDS. - - -It was field-preaching, preaching in the open air, which first gave -national distinctiveness to the Revival, and constituted it a movement. -Assuredly any occasions of excitement we have known, give no idea -whatever of the immense agitations which speedily rolled over the -country, from one end to the other, when these great revivalists began -their work in the fields. And the excitement continued, rolling on -through London, and through the counties of England, from the west to -the north, not for days, weeks, or months merely, but through long -years, until the religious life of the land was entirely rekindled, and -its morals and manners re-moulded; and all this, especially in its -origination, without money, no large sums being subscribed or guaranteed -to sustain the work. The work was done, not only without might or power, -but assuredly in the very teeth of the malevolence of might and of -power; nor is it too much to say that it probably would not have been -done, could not have been done, had the churches, chapels, and great -cathedrals been thrown open to the preachers. - -It seems a singular thing to say, but we should speak of Whitefield as -the Luther of this Great Revival, and of Wesley as its Calvin. Both in -the quality of their work and in their relation in point of time, this -analogy is not so unnatural as it perhaps seems at first. The -impetuosity and passion, the vehemence and sleepless vigilance of -Whitefield first broke open the way; the calm, cautious, frequently even -nervously timid intelligence of Wesley organised the work. - -How could a writer, in a recent number of the _Edinburgh Review_, say: -“It is a great mistake to complain, as so many do, that the Church cast -out the Wesleys. We have seen at the beginning how kindly, and even -cordially, they were treated by the leading members of the episcopate.” -Surely any history of Methodism contradicts this statement. Bishop -Benson, indeed, ordained Whitefield, but he bitterly lamented to the -Countess of Huntingdon that he had done so, attributing to him what -seemed to the Bishop the mischief of the evangelical movement. “My -lord,” said the Countess, “mark my words: when you are on your dying -bed, that will be one of the few ordinations you will reflect upon with -complaisance.” - -The words were, in a remarkable degree, prophetic; when the Bishop was -on his death-bed he sent ten guineas to Mr. Whitefield as a token of his -“regard, veneration, and affection,” and begged the great field-preacher -to remember him in prayer. If the bishops were kind and cordial to the -first Methodists, they certainly took a singular way of dissembling -their love. For instance, Bishop Lavington, of Exeter, whose well-known -two volumes on Methodism are really a curiosity of episcopal scurrility, -was in a passion with everything that looked like Whitefieldism in his -diocese. Mr. Thomson, the Vicar of St. Gennys, was a dissipated -clergyman, a character of known immorality; he was a rich man, and not -dependent upon his vicarage. In the midst of his sinful life conscience -was arrested; he became converted; he countenanced and threw open his -pulpit to Mr. Whitefield; he became now as remarkable for his devout -life and fervent gospel preaching as he had been before for his -ungodliness. What made it all the worse was, that he was a man of real -genius. Now all his brethren in the ministry disowned him, and closed -their pulpits against him; and presently Bishop Lavington summoned him -to appear before him to answer the charges made against him by his -brethren for his Methodistical practices. “Sir,” said the Bishop, in the -course of conversation, “if you pursue these practices, and countenance -Whitefield, I will strip your gown from off you.” Mr. Thomson had on his -gown at the time—more frequently worn by ministers of the Church then -than now. To the amazement of the Bishop, Mr. Thomson exclaimed, “I will -save your lordship the trouble!” He took off his gown, dropped it at the -Bishop’s feet, saying, “My lord, I can preach without a gown!” and -before the Bishop could recover from his astonishment he was gone. This -was an instance, however, in which the Bishop was so decidedly in the -wrong that he sent for the vicar again, apologised to him; and the -circumstance, indeed, led to the entertainment by the Bishop of views -which were somewhat milder with reference to Methodism than those which -still give notoriety to his name. - -[Illustration: - - GEORGE WHITEFIELD. -] - -Southey[5], in his certainly not impartial volumes, admits that, for the -most part, the condition of the clergy was dreadful; it is not wonderful -that they closed their churches against the innovators. There was, for -instance, the Vicar of Colne, the Rev. George White; when the preachers -came into his neighbourhood, it was his usual practice to call his -parishioners together by the beat of a drum, to issue a proclamation at -the market-cross, and enlist a mob for the defence of the Church against -the Methodists. Here is a copy of the proclamation, a curiosity in its -way: “Notice is hereby given that if any man be mindful to enlist in His -Majesty’s service, under the command of the Rev. Mr. George White, -Commander-in-Chief, and John Bannister, Lieutenant-General of His -Majesty’s forces for the defence of the Church of England, and the -support of the manufactory in and about Colne, both which are now in -danger, let him repair to the drumhead at the Cross, where each man -shall receive a pint of ale in advance, and all other proper -encouragements.” Such are some of the instances, which might be -multiplied to any extent, showing the reception given to the revivalists -by the clergy of the time. But let no reader suppose that, in reciting -these things, we are willingly dwelling upon facts not creditable to the -Church, or that we forget how many of her most admirable members have -made an abundant _amende honorable_ by their eulogies since; nor are we -forgetting that Nonconformist chapels, whose cold respectability of -service and theology were sadly outraged by the new teachers, were not -more readily opened than the churches were to men with whom the Word of -the Lord was as a fire, or as a hammer to break the rock in pieces.[6] -Whitefield soon felt his power. Immediately after his ordination, he in -some way became for a time an occasional supply at the chapel in the -Tower; he found a straggling congregation of twenty or thirty hearers; -after a service or two the place was overflowing, and remained so. -During his short residence in that neighbourhood the youth continued -throughout the whole week preaching to the soldiers, preaching to -prisoners, holding services on Sunday mornings for young men before the -ordinary service. He was still ostensibly at Oxford; a profitable living -was offered to him in London, and instantly declined. He went to -Gloucester, to Bristol, to Kingswood. Of course it is impossible to -follow Whitefield step by step through his career; we can only rapidly -bring out a crayon sketch of the chief features of his work. He made -voyages to Georgia; voyaging was no pastime in those days, and he spent -a great amount of time in transit to and fro on the seas; our business -with him is chiefly as the first field-preacher; and Kingswood, near -Bristol, appears to have been the first place where this great work was -to be tried. It was then, what it is still, a region of rough -collieries, the Black Country of the West; the people themselves were of -the roughest order. Whitefield spoke at Bristol, to some friends, of his -probable speedy embarkation to preach the Gospel among the Indians of -America; and they said to him, “What need of going abroad to do this? -Have we not Indians enough at home? If you have a mind to convert -Indians, there are colliers enough in Kingswood!” A savage race! As to -taking to the fields in this instance, it was simply a necessity; there -were no churches from whence the preacher could be ejected. Try to -realize it: the heathen society, indoctrinated only in brutal sports; -the rough, black labour only typical of the rough, black minds, the -rough, black souls. Surely he must have been a very brave man; nor was -he one at all of that order of apostles whose native roughness is well -fitted, it seems, to challenge roughness to civility. - -Footnote 5: - - Appendix E. - -Footnote 6: - - Appendix F. - -Whitefield was a perfect gentleman, of manners most affectionate and -amiable; altogether the most unlikely creature, it seems, to rise -triumphant over the execrations of a mighty mob. The oratory of -Whitefield seems to us almost the greatest mystery in the history of -eloquence: his voice must have been wonderful; its strength was -overwhelming, but it was not a roar; its modulations and inflections -were equal to its strength, so that it had the all-commanding tones of a -bell in its clearness, and all the modulations of an organ in its -variety and sweetness. Kingswood only stands as a representative of -crowds of other such places, where savages fell before the enchantment -of his sweet music. Read any accounts of him, and it will be seen that -we do not exaggerate in speaking of him as the very Orpheus of the -pulpit. Assuredly, as it has been said Orpheus, by the power of his -music, drew trees, stones, the frozen mountain-tops, and the floods to -bow to his melody, so men, “stockish, hard, and full of rage,” felt a -change pass over their nature, as they came under the spell of -Whitefield. Yet, perhaps, he would not have gone to Kingswood had he not -been inhibited from preaching in the Bristol churches. He had preached -in St. Mary Redcliff, and the following day had preached opening sermons -in the parish church of SS. Philip and Jacob, and then he was called -before the Chancellor of the diocese, who asked him for his licence by -which he was permitted to preach in that diocese. Whitefield said he was -an ordained minister of the Church of England, and as to the special -licence, it was obsolete. “Why did you not ask,” he said, “for the -licence of the clergyman who preached for you last Thursday?” The -Chancellor replied, “That is no business of yours.” Whitefield said, -“There is a canon forbidding clergymen to frequent taverns and play at -cards, why is that not enforced?” The Chancellor evaded this, but -charged Whitefield with preaching false doctrine; Whitefield replied -that he preached what he knew to be the truth, and he would continue to -preach. “Then,” said the Chancellor, “I will excommunicate you!” The end -of it was that all the city churches were shut against him. “But,” he -says, “if they were all open, they would not contain half the people who -come to hear. So at three in the afternoon I went to Kingswood among the -colliers.” Whitefield laid his case in a very respectful letter, before -the Bishop, but on he went. As to Kingswood, tears poured down the black -faces of the colliers; the great audiences are described as being -drenched in tears. Whitefield himself was in a passion of tears. “How -can I help weeping,” he said to them, “when you have not wept for -yourselves?” And they began to weep. Thus in 1739 began the mighty work -at Kingswood, which has been a great Methodist colony from that day to -this. That was a good morning’s work for the cause of Christ when the -Chancellor shut the doors of the churches of Bristol against the brave -and beautiful preacher, and threatened to excommunicate him. Was it not -said of old, “Thou makest the wrath of man to praise Thee”? - -Now, then, see him girt and road-ready; we might be sure that the -example of the Chancellor of Bristol would be pretty generally followed. -The old ecclesiastical corporations set themselves in array against him; -but how futile the endeavour! Their canons and rubrics were like the -building of hedges to confine an eagle, and they only left him without a -choice—without any choice but to fulfil his instinct for souls, and to -soar. Other “little brief authorities,” mayors, aldermen, and such like, -issued their fulminations. Coming to Basingstoke, the mayor, one John -Abbott, inhibited him. John Abbott seems to have been a burly butcher. -The intercourse and correspondence between the two is very humorously -characteristic; but, although it gives an insight as to the antagonism -which frequently awaited Whitefield, it is too long to quote in this -brief sketch. The butcher-mayor was coarse and insolent; Whitefield -never lost his sweet graciousness; writing to abusive butchers or -abusive bishops, as in his reply to Lavington, he never lost his temper, -never indulged in satire, never exhibits any great marks of genius, -writes straight to the point, simply vindicates himself and his course, -never retracts, never apologises, goes straight on. - -There is no other instance of a preacher who was so equally at home and -equally impressive and commanding in the most various and dissimilar -circles and scenes; it is significant of the notice he excited that his -name occurs so frequently in the correspondence of that cold and -heartless man and flippant sneerer, Horace Walpole, whose allusions to -him are usually disgraceful; but so it was, he was equally commanding in -the polished and select circles of the drawing-room, surrounded by dukes -and duchesses, great statesmen and philosophers, or in the large old -tabernacle or parish church, surrounded by more orderly and saintly -worshippers, or in nature’s vast and grand cathedrals, with twenty or -thirty thousand people around him. - -From the day when he went to Kingswood, we may run a rapid eye along the -perspective of his career—in fields, on heaths, and on commons, it was -the same everywhere; from his intense life we might find many scenes for -description: take one or two. On the breast of the mountain, the trees -and hedges full of people, hushed to profound silence, the open -firmament above him, the prospect of adjacent fields—the sight of -thousands on thousands of people; some in coaches, some on horseback, -and all affected, or drenched in tears. Sometimes evening approaches, -and then he says, “Beneath the twilight it was too much for me, and -quite overcame me.” There was one night never to be forgotten. While he -was preaching it lightened exceedingly; his spirit rose on the tempest; -his voice tolled out the doom and decay hanging over all nature; he -preached the warnings and the consolations of the coming of the Son of -man. The thunder broke over his head, the lightning shone along the -preacher’s path, it ran along the ground in wild glares from one part of -heaven to the other; the whole audience shook like the leaves of a -forest in the wind, whilst high amidst the thunders and the lightnings, -the preacher’s voice rose, exclaiming, “Oh; my friends, the wrath of -God! the wrath of God!” Then his spirit seemed to pass serenely right -through the tempest, and he talked of Christ, who swept the wrath away; -and then he told how he longed for the time when Christ should be -revealed, amidst the flaming fire, consuming all natural things. “Oh,” -exclaimed he, “that my soul may be in a like flame when He shall come to -call me!” Can we realize what his soul must have been who could burn -with such seraphic ardours in the midst of such scenes? - -[Illustration: - - WHITEFIELD PREACHING IN LONDON. -] - -So he opened the way everywhere, by his field-preaching, for John -Wesley. Truly it has been said, “Whitefield, and not Wesley, is the -prominent figure in the opening of the Methodist movement;” and the time -we must assign to this first popular agitation is the winter of 1738-39. -The two men were immensely different. To Whitefield the preaching was no -light work; it was not talking. After one of his sermons, drenched -through, he would lie down, spent, sobbing, exhausted, death-like: John -Wesley, after one of his most effective sermons, in which he also had -shaken men’s souls, would just quietly mount his little pony, and ride -off to the next village or town, reading his book as he went, or -stopping by the way to pluck curious flowers or simples from the hedges; -the poise of their spirits was so different. All great movements need -two men, Moses and Aaron; the prophet Elijah must go before, “to restore -all things.” Whitefield lived in the immediate neighbourhood and -breathed the air of essential truth; Wesley looked at men, and saw how -all remained undone until the work took coherency and shape. As he says, -“I was convinced that preaching like an apostle, without joining -together those that are awakened, and training them up in the ways of -God, is only begetting children for the murderer.” Whitefield preached -like an apostle; the scenes we have described appear charming rural -scenes, in which men’s hearts were bowed and hushed before him; but -there were widely different scenes when he defied the devil, and sought -to win his victims away, even in fairs and wakes—the most wild and -dissolute periodical pests and nuisances of the age. Rough human nature -went down before him, as in the instance of the man who came with heavy -stones to pelt him, and suddenly found his hands as it were tied, and -himself in tears, and, at the close, went up to the preacher, and said, -“I came here only to break your head, and you have broken my heart!” - -But the roughs of London seem to have been worse than the roughs of -Kingswood; and we cannot wonder that men like Walpole, and even polite -and refined religious men, thought that a man who could go right into -St. Bartholomew’s Fair, in Moorfields, and Finsbury, take his station -among drummers, trumpeters, merry-andrews, harlequins, and all kinds of -wild beasts, must be “mad”; it must have seemed the height of -fanaticism, like preaching to a real Gadarene swinery. All the -historians of the movement—Sir James Stephen, Dr. Abel Stevens, Dr. -Southey, Isaac Taylor, and others, recite with admiration the story of -the way in which he wrestled successfully with the merry-andrews. He -began to preach at six o’clock in the morning; stones, dirt, rotten eggs -were hurled at him. “My soul was among lions,” he says; but the -marvellous voice overcame, and he went on speaking, and we know how -tenderly he would speak to them, of their own miseries, and the dangers -of their own sins; the great multitude—it was between twenty and thirty -thousand—“became like lambs;” he finished, went away, and, in the wilder -time—in the afternoon—he came again. In the meantime there had been -organisations to put him down: here was a man with a long heavy whip to -strike the preacher; there was a recruiting sergeant who had been -engaged with drum and fife to interrupt him. As he appeared on the -outskirts of the crowd, Whitefield, who well knew how to catch the -humour of the people too, exclaimed, “Make way for the king’s officer!” -and the mob divided, while, to his surprise, the recruiting officer, -with his drum, found himself immediately beneath Whitefield; it was easy -to manage him now. The crowd around roared like wild beasts; it must -have been a tremendous scene. Will it be believed—it seems -incredible—that he continued there, preaching, praying, singing, until -the night fell? He won a decided victory, and the next day received no -fewer than a thousand notes from persons, “brands plucked from the -burning,” who spoke of the convictions through which they had passed, -and implored the preacher to remember them in his prayers. - -This was in Moorfields, in which neighbourhood since, the followers both -of Wesley and of Whitefield have found their tabernacles and most -eminent fields of usefulness. Many have attempted fair-preaching since -Whitefield’s day, but not, we believe, with much success; it needs a -remarkable combination of powers to make such efforts successful. -Whitefield was able to attempt to outbid the showmen, merry-andrews, and -harlequins, and he succeeded. No wonder they called him a fanatic; he -might have said, “If we be beside ourselves, it is for God, that by all -means we may save some!” - -But what we have been especially desirous that our readers should note -is, that these more vehement manifestations of Methodism were not the -result of any methodised plan, but were a simple yielding to, and taking -possession of circumstances; it was as if “the Spirit of the Lord” came -down upon the leaders, and “carried them whither they knew not.” - - * * * * * - -[For an account of Whitefield’s labours in America, and the spread of -the Great Revival there, the reader is referred to the supplemental -chapter at the end of this volume.] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER V - - THE REVIVAL CONSERVATIVE. - - -Lord Macaulay’s verdict upon John Wesley, that he possessed a “genius -for government not inferior to that of Richelieu,” received immediate -demonstration when he came actively into the movement, and has been -abundantly confirmed since his death, in the history of the society -which he founded. It has been said that all institutions are the -prolonged shadow of one mind, and that by the inclusiveness, or power of -perpetuity in the institution, we may know the mind of the founder. Much -of our last chapter was devoted to some attempt to realise the place and -power of Whitefield;[7] what he was in relation to the Revival may be -defined by the remark, often made, and by capable critics, that while -there have been multitudes of better sermon-makers, it is uncertain -whether the Church ever had so great a pulpit orator. In Wesley’s mind -everything became structural and organic; he was a mighty master of -administration; but he also followed Whitefield’s example, and took to -the fields; and very great, indeed, amazing results, followed his -ministry. - -Footnote 7: - - See Chapter XIV. for his place and power in America. - -Many of the incidents which are impressive and amusing show the -difference between the men. Whitefield overwhelmed the people: Wesley -met insolence and antagonism by some sharp, concise, and cuttingly -appropriate retort, which was remarkable, considering his stature. But -both his presence and his words must have been unusually commanding: “Be -silent, or begone,” he turned round sharply and said once to some -violent disturbers, and they were obedient to the command. - -Wesley’s rencontre with Beau Nash at Bath is a fair illustration of his -quiet and almost obscurely sarcastic method of confounding a troublesome -person. Preaching in the open air at Bath, the King of Bath, the Master -of the Ceremonies, Nash, was so unwise as to attempt to put down the -apostolic man. Nash’s character was bad; it was that of an idle, -heartless, licentious dangler on the skirts of high society. He appeared -in the crowd, and authoritatively asked Wesley by what right he dared to -stand there. The congregation was not wholly of the poor; there were a -number of fashionable and noble persons present, and among them many -with whom this attack had been pre-arranged, and who expected to see the -discomfiture of the Methodist by the courtly and fashionable old dandy. -Wesley replied to the question simply and quietly that he stood there by -the authority of Jesus Christ, conveyed to him “by the present -Archbishop of Canterbury, when he laid hands on me and said, ‘Take thou -authority to preach the Gospel!’” Nash began to bustle and to be -turbulent, and he exclaimed, “This is contrary to Act of Parliament; -this is a conventicle.” “Sir,” said Wesley, “the Act you refer to -applies to seditious meetings: here is no sedition, no shadow of -sedition; the meeting is not, therefore, contrary to the Act.” Nash -stormed, “I say it is; besides, your preaching frightens people out of -their wits.” “Sir,” said Wesley, “give me leave to ask, Did you ever -hear me preach?” “No!” “How, then, can you judge of what you have never -heard?” “Sir, by common report.” “Common report is not enough,” said -Wesley; “again give me leave to ask is your name not Nash?” “My name is -Nash.” And then the reader must imagine Wesley’s thin, clear, piercing -voice, cutting through the crowd: “Sir, I dare not judge of _you_ by -common report.” There does not seem much in it, but the effect was -overwhelming. Nash tried to bully it out a little; but, to make his -discomfiture complete, the people took up the case, and especially one -old woman, whose daughter had come to grief through the fop, in her way -so set forth his sins that he was glad to retreat in dismay. On another -occasion, when attempts were made to assault Wesley, there was some -uncertainty about his person, and the assailants were saying, “Which is -he? which is he?” he stood still as he was walking down the crowded -street, turned upon them, and said, “I am he;” and they instantly fell -back, awed into involuntary silence and respect. - -It is characteristic that while Whitefield simply took to the work of -field-preaching, and preaching in the open air, and troubled himself -very little about finding or giving reasons for the irregularity of the -proceeding, Wesley defended the practice with formidable arguments. It -is remarkable that the practice should have been deemed so irregular, or -should need vindication, considering that our Lord had given to it the -sanction of His example, and that it had been adopted by the apostles -and fathers, the greatest of the Catholic preachers, and the reformers -of every age. A history of field and street-preaching would form a large -and interesting chapter of Church history. Southey quotes a very happy -series of arguments from one of Wesley’s appeals: “What need is there,” -he says, speaking for his antagonists, “of this preaching in the fields -and streets? Are there not churches enough to preach in?” “No, my -friend, there are not, not for us to preach in. You forget we are not -suffered to preach there, else we should prefer them to any place -whatever.” “Well, there are ministers enough without you.” “Ministers -enough, and churches enough! For what? To reclaim all the sinners within -the four seas? and one plain reason why these sinners are never -reclaimed is this: they never come into a church. Will you say, as some -tender-hearted Christians I have heard, ‘Then it is their own fault; let -them die and be damned!’ I grant it may be their own fault, but the -Saviour of souls came after us, and so we ought to seek to save that -which is lost.” He went on to confess the irregularity, but he retorted -that those persons who compelled him to be irregular had no right to -censure him for irregularity. “Will they throw a man into the dirt,” -said he, “and beat him because he is dirty? Of all men living those -clergymen ought not to complain who believe I preach the Gospel; if they -will not ask me to preach in their churches, they are accountable for my -preaching in the fields.” This is a fair illustration of the neat -shrewdness, the compact, incisive common sense of Wesley’s mind. Thus he -argued himself into that sphere of labour which justified him in after -years in saying, without any extravagance, “The world is my parish.” - -We have said the Revival became conservative. It is true the Countess -of Huntingdon did much to make it so; but it assumed a shape of -vitality, and a force of coherent strength, chiefly from the touch of -Wesley’s administrative mind. The present City Road Chapel, which was -opened in 1776, opposite Bunhill Fields Burial Ground, is probably the -first illustration of this fact; it stands where stood the -Foundry—time-honoured spot in the history of Methodism. It stood in -Moorfields; the City Road was a mere lane then. The building had been -used by government for casting cannon; it was a rude ruin. Wesley -purchased it and the site at the very commencement of his work, in -1739; he turned it into a temple. As the years passed on it became the -cradle of London Methodism, accommodating fifteen hundred people. -Until within twenty years of Wesley’s purchase this had been a kind of -Woolwich Arsenal to the government; it became a temple of peace, and -here came “band-rooms,” school-rooms, book-rooms—the first saplings of -Methodist usefulness. - -[Illustration: - - JOHN WESLEY. -] - -It has been truly said by a writer in the _British Quarterly_, that the -most romantic lives of the saints of the Roman Catholic calendar do not -present a more startling succession of incidents than those which meet -us in the life and labours of Wesley. Romish stories claim that Blessed -Raymond, of Pegnafort, spread his cloak upon the sea to transport him -across the water, sailing one hundred and sixty miles in six hours, and -entering his convent through closed doors! The devout and zealous -Francis Xavier spent three whole days in two different places at the -same time, preaching all the while! Rome shines out in transactions like -these: Wesley does not; but he seems to have been almost ubiquitous, and -he moves with a rapidity reminding us of that flying angel who had the -everlasting Gospel to preach, and he shines alike in his conflicts with -nature and the still wilder tempests caused by the passions of men. We -read of his travelling, through the long wintry hours, two hundred and -eighty miles on horseback, in six days; it was a wonderful feat in those -times. When Wesley first began his itinerancy there were no turnpikes in -the country; but before he closed his career, he had probably paid more, -says Dr. Southey, for turnpikes, than any other man in England, for no -other man in England travelled so much. His were no pleasant journeys, -as of summer days; he travelled through the fens of Lincolnshire when -the waters were out; and over the fells of Northumberland when they were -covered with snow. Speaking of one tremendous journey, through dreadful -weather, he says, “Many a rough journey have I had before; but one like -this I never had, between wind and hail, and rain, and ice, and snow, -and driving sleet, and piercing cold; but it is past. Those days will -return no more, and are therefore as though they had never been. - - “‘And pain, like pleasure, is a dream!’” - -How singular was his visit to Epworth, where he found the church of his -childhood, his father’s church, the church of his own first -ministrations, closed against him! The minister of the church was a -drunkard; he had been under great obligations, both to Wesley himself -and to the Wesley family, but he assailed him with the most offensive -brutality; and when Wesley, denied the pulpit, signified his intention -of simply partaking of the Lord’s Supper with the parishioners on the -following Sunday, the coarse man sent word, “Tell Mr. Wesley I shall not -give him the Sacrament, for he is not _fit_.” It seems to have cut Mr. -Wesley very deeply. “It was fit,” he says, “that he who repelled me from -the table where I had myself so often distributed the bread of life, -should be one who owed his all in this world to the tender love my -father had shown to his, as well as personally to himself.” He stayed -there, however, eight days, and preached every evening in the -churchyard, standing on his father’s tomb; truly a singular sight, the -living son, the prophet of his age, surely little short of inspired, -preaching from his dead father’s grave with such pathos and power as we -may well conceive. “I am well assured,” he says, “I did far more good to -my old Lincolnshire parishioners by preaching three days on my father’s -tomb than I did by preaching three years in his pulpit!” - -[Illustration: - - WESLEY PREACHING IN EPWORTH CHURCHYARD. -] - -As he travelled to and fro, odd mistakes sometimes happened. Arrived at -York, he went into the church in St. Saviour’s Gate; the rector, one Mr. -Cordeau, had often warned his congregation against going to hear “that -vagabond Wesley” preach. It was usual in that day for ministers of the -Establishment to wear the cassock or gown, just as everywhere in France -we see the French abbés. Wesley had on his gown, like a university man -in a university town. Mr. Cordeau, not knowing who he was, offered him -his pulpit; Wesley was quite willing, and always ready. Sermons leaped -impromptu from his lips, and this sermon was an impressive one; at its -close the clerk asked the rector if he knew who the preacher was. “No.” -“Why, sir, it was that vagabond Wesley!” “Ah, indeed!” said the -astonished clergyman; “well, never mind, we have had a good sermon.” The -anecdotes of the incidents which waited upon the preacher in his travels -are of every order of humorous, affecting, and romantic interest; they -are spread over a large variety of volumes, and even still need to be -gathered, framed, and hung in the light of some effective chronicle. - -[Illustration: - - EPWORTH CHURCH. -] - -The brilliant passage in which Lord Macaulay portrays, as with the -pencil of a Vandyke, the features of the great English Puritans, is -worthy of attention. Perhaps, even had the great essayist attempted the -task, he had scarcely the requisite sympathies to give an effective -portrait or portraits of the early Methodists; indeed, their characters -are different, as different as a portrait from the pencil of Denner to -one from that of Vandyke, or of Velasquez; but as Denner is wonderful -too, although so homely, so the Methodist is a study. The early -Methodist was, perhaps, usually a very simple, what we should call an -ignorant, man, but he had “the true Light which lighteth every man that -cometh into the world.” He was not such an one as the early Puritan[8] -or the ancient Huguenot, those children of the camp and of the sword, -Nonconformist Templars and Crusaders, whose theology had trained them -for the battle-field, teaching them to frown defiance on kings, and to -treat with contempt the proudest nobles, if they were merely -unsanctified men. The Methodist was not such an one as the stern -Ironside of Cromwell; as he lived in a more cheerful age, so he was the -subject of a more cheerful piety; he was as loyal as he was lowly. He -had been forgotten or neglected by all the priests and Levites of the -land; but a voice had reached him, and raised him to the rank of a -living, conscious, immortal soul. He also was one for whom Christ died. -A new life had created new interests in him; and Christianity, really -believed, does ennoble a man—how can it do otherwise? It gives -self-respect to a man, it shows to him a new purpose and business in -life; moreover, it creates a spirit of holy cheerfulness and joy; and -thus came about that state of mind which Wesley made subservient to -organisation—the necessity for meetings and reciprocations. It has been -said that every church must have some sign or counter-sign, some symbol -to make it popularly successful. St. Dominic gave to his order the -Rosary; John Wesley gave to his Society the Ticket. There were no -chapels, or but few, and none to open their doors to these strange new -pilgrims to the celestial city. We have seen that the churches were -closed against them. Lord Macaulay says, had John Wesley risen in the -Church of Rome, she would have thrown her arms round him, only regarding -him as the founder of a new order, with certain peculiarities calculated -to increase and to extend her empire, and in due time have given to him -the honours of canonisation. - -Footnote 8: - - See Appendix A. - -The English clergy as a body gathered up their garments and shrunk from -all contact with the Methodists as from a pestilence. What could be -done? Something must be done to prevent them from falling back into the -world. Piety needs habit, and must become habitual to be safe, even as -the fine-twined linen of the veil, and the ark of the covenant, and the -cherubim shadowing the mercy-seat, were shut in and all their glory -defended by the rude coverings of badger-skins. John Wesley knew that -the safety of the converted would be in frequent meetings for singing -and prayer and conversation. Reciprocation is the soul of Methodism; so -they assembled in each others’ houses, in rude and lonely but convenient -rooms, by farm-house ingles, in lone hamlets. Thus was created a homely -piety, often rugged enough, no doubt, but full of beautiful and pathetic -instincts. So grew what came to be called band-meetings, class-meetings, -love-feasts, and all the innumerable means by which the Methodist -Society worked, until it became like a wheel within a wheel; simple -enough, however, in the days to which we are referring. “Look to the -Lord, and faithfully attend all the means of grace appointed in the -Society.” Such was, practically, the whole of Methodism. So that famous -old lady, whose bright example has so often been held up on Methodist -platforms, when called upon to state the items of her creed, did so very -sufficiently when she summed it up in the four particulars of -“repentance towards God; faith in the Lord Jesus Christ; a penny a week; -and a shilling a quarter.” Wesley seems to have summed the Methodist -creed more simply still: “Belief in the Lord Jesus Christ, and an -earnest desire to flee from the wrath to come.” This was his condition -of Church fellowship. When the faith became more consciously objective, -it too was seized by the passionate instinct, the desire t o save souls. -This drove the early Methodists out on great occasions to call vast -multitudes together on heaths, on moors. Perhaps—but this was at a later -time—some country gentleman threw open his old hall to the preachers; -though the more aristocratic phase of the Methodist movement fell into -the Calvinistic rather than into the Wesleyan ranks, and subsided into -the organisation of the Countess of Huntingdon, which was, in fact, a -kind of Free Church of England. The followers of Wesley sought the -sequestration of nature, or in cities and towns they took to the streets -or the broad ways and outlying fields. In some neighbourhoods a little -room was built, containing the germ of what in a few years became a -large Wesleyan Society. The burden of all these meetings, and all their -intercourse, whether in speech or song, was the sweetness and fulness of -Jesus. They had intense faith in the love of God shed abroad in the -heart; and their great interest was in souls on the brink of perdition. -They knew little of spiritual difficulties or speculative despair; their -conflict was with the world, the flesh, and the devil; and in this -person, whose features have lately become somewhat dim, and who has -wrapped himself in a new cloak of darkness, they did really believe. -Wesley dealt with sin as sin, and with souls as souls; he and his band -of preachers had little regard to proprieties, and it was not a polished -time; so, ungraceful and undignified, the face weary, and the hand heavy -with toil, they seemed out of breath pursuing souls. The strength of all -these men was that they had a definite creed, and they sought to guard -it by a definite Church life. The early Methodist had also cultivated -the mighty instinct of prayer, about which he had no philosophy, but -believing that God heard him, he quite simply indulged in it as a -passion, and in this to him there was at once a meaning and a joy. We -are not under the necessity of vindicating every phase of the great -movement, we are simply writing down some particulars of its history, -and how it was that it grew and prevailed. God’s ministry goes on by -various means, ordinary and extraordinary; that is the difference -between rivers and rains, between dews and lightnings. - -A very interesting chapter, perhaps a volume, might be compiled from the -old records of the mere anecdotes—the very humours—of the persecution -attending on the Revival. Thus, in Cornwall, Edward Greenfield, a -tanner, with a wife and seven children, was arrested under a warrant -granted by Dr. Borlase, the eminent antiquary, who was, however, a -bitter foe to Methodism. It was inquired what was the objection to -Greenfield, a peaceable, inoffensive man; and the answer was, “The man -is well enough, but the gentlemen round about can’t bear his impudence; -why, he says he knows his sins are forgiven!” The story is well known -how, in one place, a whole waggon-load of Methodists were taken before -the magistrates; but when the question was asked in court what they had -done, a profound silence fell over the assembly, for no one was prepared -with a charge against them, till somebody exclaimed, “They pretended to -be better than other people, and prayed from morning till night!” And -another voice shouted out, “And they’ve _convarted_ my wife; till she -went among they, she had a tongue of her own, and now she’s as quiet as -a lamb!” “Take them all back, take them all back,” said the sensible -magistrate, “and let them convert all the scolds in the town!” - -There is a spot in Cornwall which may be said to be consecrated and set -apart to the memory of Wesley; it is in the immediate neighbourhood of -Redruth, a wild, bare, rugged-looking region now, very suggestive of its -savage aspect upwards of a hundred years since. The spot to which we -refer is the Gwennap Pit; it is a wild amphitheatre, cut out among the -hills, capable of holding about thirty thousand persons. Its natural -walls slant upwards, and the place has altogether wonderful properties -for the carrying the human voice. Wesley began to preach in this spot in -1762. When he first visited Cornwall, the savage mobs of what used to be -called “West Barbary,” howled and roared upon him like lions or wild -beasts; in his later years of visitation, no emperor or sovereign prince -could have been received with more reverence and affection. The streets -were lined and the windows of the houses thronged with gazing crowds, to -see him as he walked along; and no wonder, for Cornwall was one of the -chief territories of that singular ecclesiastical kingdom of which he -was the founder. When he first went into Cornwall, it was really a -region of savage irreligion and heathenism. The reader of his life often -finds, usually about once a year, the visit to Gwennap Pit recorded: he -preached his first sermon there, as we have said, in 1762; at the age of -eighty-six he preached his last in 1789. There, from time to time, they -poured in from all the country round to see and to listen to the words -of this truly reverend father. - -[Illustration: - - The Great Revival. - Wesley Preaching in Gwennap Pit. -] - -The traditions of Methodism have few more imposing scenes. Gwennap Pit -was, perhaps, Wesley’s most famous cathedral; a magnificent church, if -we may apply that term to a building of nature, among the wild moors; it -was thronged by hushed and devout worshippers. Until Wesley went among -these people, the whole immense population might have said, “No man -cared for our souls;” now they poured in to see him there: wild miners -from the immediate neighbourhood, fishermen from the coast, men who -until their conversion had pursued the wrecker’s remorseless and -criminal career, smugglers, more quiet men and their families less -savage, but not less ignorant, from their shieling, or lowly farmstead -on the distant heath. A strange throng, if we think of it, men who had -never used God’s name except in an oath, and who had never breathed a -prayer except for the special providence of a shipwreck, and who with -wicked barbarity had kindled their delusive lights along the coasts, to -fascinate unfortunate ships to the cruel cliffs! But a Divine power had -passed over them, and they were changed, with their families; and hither -they came to gladden the heart of the old patriarch in the wild glen—a -strange spot, and not unbeautiful, roofed over by the blue heavens. -Amidst the broom, the twittering birds, the heath flower, and the -scantling of trees, amidst the venerable rocks, it must have been -wonderful to hear the thirty thousand voices welling up, and singing -Wesley’s words: - - “Suffice that for the season past, - Hell’s horrid language filled our tongues; - We all Thy words behind us cast, - And loudly sang the drunkard’s songs. - But, oh, the power of grace Divine! - In hymns we now our voices raise, - Loudly in strange hosannahs join, - While blasphemies are turned to praise!” - -Such was one of the triumphs of the Great Revival. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE SINGERS OF THE REVIVAL. - - -Chief of all the auxiliary circumstances which aided the Great Revival, -beyond a question, was this: that it taught the people of England, for -the first time, the real power of sacred song. That man in the north of -England who, when taken, by a companion who had been converted, to a -great Methodist preaching, and being asked at the close of the service -how he had enjoyed it, replied, “Weel, I didna care sae mich aboot the -preaching, but, eh, man! yon ballants were grand,” was no doubt a -representative character. And the great and subduing power of large -bodies of people, moved as with one heart and one voice, must have -greatly aided to produce those effects which we are attempting to -realise. All great national movements have acknowledged and used the -power of song. For man is a born singer, and if he cannot sing himself -he likes to feel the power of those who can. It has been so in political -movements: there were the songs of the Roundheads and the Cavaliers. And -the greatest religious movements through all the Christian ages have -acknowledged the power of sacred song, even from the days of the -apostles, and from the time of St. Ambrose in Milan. Luther soon found -that he must teach the people to sing. That is a pleasant little story, -how once, as he was sitting at his window, he heard a blind beggar sing. -It was something about the grace of God, and Luther says the strain -brought tears into his eyes. Then, he says, the thought suddenly flashed -into his mind, “If I could only make gospel songs which people could -sing, and which would spread themselves up and down the cities!” He -directly set to work upon this inspiration, and let fly song after song, -each like a lark mounting towards heaven’s gate, full of New Testament -music. “He took care,” says one writer, in mentioning the incident, -“that each song should have some rememberable word or refrain; such as -‘Jesus,’ ‘Believe and be saved,’ ‘Come unto Me,’ ‘Gospel,’ ‘Grace,’ -‘Worthy is the Lamb,’ and so on.” - -Until Watts and Doddridge appeared, England had no popular sacred -melodies. Amongst the works of the poets, such as Sir Philip Sidney, -Milton, Sandys, George Herbert, and others, a few were scattered up and -down; but they mostly lacked the subtle element which constitutes a -hymn. For, just as a man may be a great poet, and utterly fail in the -power to write a good song, so a man may be a great sacred poet, and yet -miss the faculty which makes the hymn-writer. It is singular, it is -almost indefinable. The subtle something which catches the essential -elements of a great human experience, and gives it lyrical expression, -takes that which other men put into creeds, sermons, theological essays, -and sets it flying, as we just now said, like “the lark to heaven’s -gate.” It ought never to be forgotten that Watts was, in fact, the -creator of the English hymn. He wrote many lines which good taste can in -no case approve; but here again the old proverb holds true, “The house -that is building does not look like the house that is built.” And the -great number of following writers, while they have felt the inspiration -he gave to the Church, have moulded their lines by a more fastidious -taste, which, if it has sometimes improved the metre or the sentiment, -has possibly diminished in the strength. We will venture to say that -even now there is a greater average of majesty of thought and expression -in Watts’s hymns than in any other of our great hymn-writers; although, -in some cases, we find here and there a piece which may equal, and some -one or two which are said to surpass, the flights of the sweet singer of -Stoke Newington. But the hymns of Watts, as a whole, were not so well -fitted to a great and popular revival, to the expression of a tumultuous -and passionate experience, as some we shall notice. They were, as a -whole, especially wanting in the social element, and the finest of them -sound like notes from the harp of some solitary angel. One cannot give -to them the designation which the Wesleys gave to large sections of -their hymns, “suitable for experience meetings.” Praise rather than -experience is the characteristic of Watts, although there are noble -exceptions. Our readers will perhaps remember a well-known and pleasing -instance in a letter from Doddridge to his aged friend. Doddridge had -been preaching on a summer evening in some plain old village chapel in -Northamptonshire, when at the close of the service was “given out,” as -we say, that hymn commencing: - - “Give me the wings of faith to rise.” - -We can suppose the melody to which it was sung to have been very rude; -but it was, perhaps, new to the people, and the preacher was affected as -he saw how, over the congregation, the people were singing earnestly, -and melted to tears while they sang; and at the close of the service -many old people gathered round Doddridge, their hearts all alive with -the hymn, and they wished it were possible, only for once, to look upon -the face of the dear old Dr. Watts. Doddridge was so pleased that he -thought his old friend would be pleased also, and so he wrote the -account of the little incident in a letter to him. In many other parts -of the country, no doubt, the people were waiting and wishful for -popular sacred harmonies. And when the Great Revival came, and -congregations met by thousands, and multitudes who had been accustomed -to song, thoughtless, foolish, very often sinful and licentious, still -needed to sing (for song and human nature are inseparable, apparently, -so far as we know anything about it, in the next world as well as in -this), it was necessary that, as they had been “brought up out of the -horrible pit and miry clay,” “a new song of praise” should be put in the -mouth. John Wesley had heard much of Moravian singing. He took Count -Zinzendorf’s hymns, translated them, and immensely improved them; he was -the first who introduced into our psalmody the noble words of Paul -Gerhardt. Some of the finest of all the hymns in the Wesleyan collection -are these translations. Watts was unsparingly used. Wesley’s first -effort to meet this necessity of the Revival was the publication of his -collection in 1739.[9] And thus, most likely without knowing the -anecdote of Luther we have quoted above, Wesley and his coadjutors did -exactly what the Reformer had done. They gave effect to the Revival by -the ordinance of song, and preached the Gospel in sweet words, and often -recurring Gospel refrains. - -Footnote 9: - - See Appendix. - -The remark is true that there was no art, no splendid form of worship or -ritual; early Methodism and the entire evangelic movement were as free -from all this as Clairvaux in the Valley of Wormwood, when Bernard -ministered there with all his monks around him, or as Cluny when Bernard -de Morlaix chanted his “Jerusalem the Golden.” Like all great religious -movements which have shaken men’s souls, this was purely spiritual, or -if it had a secular expression it was not artificial. Loud amens -resounded as the preacher spoke or prayed, and then the hearty gushes -of, perhaps, not melodious song united all hearts in some litany or Te -Deum in new-born verse from some of the singers of the last revival. -Amongst infuriated mobs, we read how Wesley found a retreat in song, and -overpowered the multitude with what we, perhaps, should not regard -melody. Thus, when at Bengeworth in 1740, where Wesley was set upon by a -crowd, and it was proposed by one that they should take him away and -duck him, he broke out into singing with his redoubted friend, Thomas -Maxfield. He allowed them to carry him whither they would; at the bridge -end of the street the mob retreated and left him; but he took his stand -on the bridge, and striking up— - - “Angel of God, whate’er betide, - Thy summons I obey,” - -preached a useful and effective sermon to hundreds who remained to -listen, from the text, “If God be for us, who can be against us?” - -But the contributions of Watts and Wesley are so well known that it is -more important to notice here that as the Revival moved on, very soon -other remarkable lyrists appeared to contribute, if few, yet really -effective words. Of these none is more remarkable than the mighty -cobbler, Thomas Olivers, a “sturdy Welshman,” as Southey calls him. He -is not to be confounded with John Oliver, also one of the notabilities -of the Revival. Thomas was really an astonishing trophy of the movement; -before his conversion he was a thoroughly bad fellow, a kind of -wandering reprobate, an idle, dissipated man. He fell beneath the power -of Whitefield, whom he heard preach from the text, “Is not this a brand -plucked out of the fire?” He had made comic songs about Whitefield, and -sung them with applause in tap-rooms. As Whitefield came in his way, he -went with the purpose of obtaining fresh fuel for his ridicule. The -heart of the man was completely broken, and he felt so much compunction -for what he had done against the man for whom he now felt so deep a -reverence and awe, that he used to follow him in the streets, and though -he did not speak to him, he says he could scarcely refrain from kissing -the prints of his footsteps. And now, he says, at the beginning of his -new life, what we can well believe of an imagination so intense and -strong, “I saw God in everything: the heavens, the earth and all therein -showed me something of Him; yea, even from a drop of water, a blade of -grass, or a grain of sand, I received instruction.” He was about -seriously to enter into a settled and respectable way of business when -John Wesley heard of him; and although he was converted under -Whitefield, Wesley persuaded him to yield himself to his direction for -the work of preaching as one of his itinerant band, and sent him into -Cornwall—just the man we should think for Cornwall, fiery and -imaginative: off he went, in 1753. He was born in 1725. He testifies -that he was “unable to buy a horse, so, with my boots on my legs, my -great-coat on my back, and my bag with my books and linen across my -shoulders, I set out for Cornwall on foot.” Henceforth there were -forty-six years on earth before him, during which he witnessed a -magnificent confession before many witnesses. He became one of the -foremost controversialists when dissensions arose among the men of the -Revival. He acquired a knowledge of the languages, especially of Hebrew, -and was a great reader. Wesley appointed him as his editor and general -proofreader; but he could never be taught to punctuate properly, and the -punctilious Wesley could not tolerate his inaccuracies as they slipped -through the proof, so he did not retain this post long. But Wesley loved -him, and in 1799 he descended into Wesley’s own tomb, and his remains -lie there, in the cemetery of the City Road Chapel. He wrote more prose -than poetry; but, like St. Ambrose, he is made immortal by a single -hymn. He is the author of one of the most majestic hymns in all -hymnology. Byron and Scott wrote Hebrew melodies, but they will not bear -comparison with this one. While in London upon one occasion, he went -into the Jewish synagogue, and he heard sung there by a rabbi, Dr. -Leoni, an old air, a melody which so enchanted him and fixed itself in -his memory, that he went home, and instantly produced what he called “a -hymn to the God of Abraham,” arranged to the air he had heard. And thus -we possess that which we so frequently sing, - - “The God of Abraham praise!”[10] - -It is principally known by its first four verses; there are twelve. -“There is not,” says James Montgomery, “in our language a lyric of more -majestic style, more elevated thought, or more glorious imagery; * * * -like a stately pile of architecture, severe and simple in design; it -strikes less on the first view than after deliberate examination, * * * -the mind itself grows greater in contemplating it;” and he continues, -“On account of the peculiarity of the measure, none but a person of -equal musical and poetical taste could have produced the harmony -perceptible in the verse.” There will, perhaps, always be a doubt -whether Olivers was the author of the hymn, - - “Lo! He comes with clouds descending.” - -If Charles Wesley were the author, he undoubtedly derived the -inspiration of the piece from Olivers’ hymn, “The Last Judgment:”[11] it -is in the same metre, and probably Wesley took the thought and the -metre, and adapted it to popular service. What is undoubted is that -Olivers, who is the author of the metre, is also the author of the fine -old tune “Helmsley,” to which the hymn was usually sung until quite -recent times; the tune was originally called “Olivers.” - -Footnote 10: - - See Appendix - -Footnote 11: - - See Appendix - -It is but a natural step from Thomas Olivers to his great antagonist, -Augustus Toplady; he also is made immortal by a hymn. He wrote many fine -ones, full of melody, pathos, and affecting imagery. Toplady, as all our -readers know, was a clergyman, the Vicar of Broad Hembury, in -Devonshire. He took the strong Calvinistic side in the controversies -which arose in the course of the Great Revival; Olivers took the strong -Arminian side. They were not very civil to each other; and the scholarly -clergyman no doubt felt his dignity somewhat hurt by the rugged contact -with the cobbler; but the quarrels are forgotten now, and there is -scarcely a hymn-book in which the hymn of Olivers is not found within a -few pages of - - “Rock of Ages, cleft for me!” - -To this hymn has been given almost universally the palm as the finest -hymn in our language. Where there are so many, at once deeply expressive -in experience, and subdued and elevated in feeling, we perhaps may be -forgiven if we hesitate before praise so eminently high. Mr. Gladstone’s -translation into the Latin, in the estimation of eminent scholars, even -carries a more thrilling and penetrative awe.[12] But Toplady wrote many -other hymns quite equal in pathos and poetic merit. The characteristic -of “Rock of Ages” is its depth of penitential devotion. A volume might -be written on the history of this expressive hymn. Innumerable are the -multitudes whom these words have sustained when dying; they were among -the last which lingered on the lips of Prince Albert as he was passing -away; and to how many, through every variety of social distinction, have -they been at once the creed and consolation! It is by his hymns that -Toplady will be chiefly remembered. For years he was hovering along on -the borders of the grave, slowly dying of consumption; and he died in -1778, in the thirty-eighth year of his age. It was his especial wish -that he should be buried with more than quiet, that no announcement -should be made of the funeral, and that there should be no especial -service at his grave: it testifies, however, to the high regard in which -he was held that thousands followed him to his burial in Tottenham Court -Road Chapel; and when we know that his dear friend Rowland Hill -conducted the service, we can scarcely be surprised, or offended, that -he broke through the injunctions of his friend, and addressed the -multitude in affectionate commemoration of the sweet singer. - -Footnote 12: - - See Appendix. - -[Illustration: - - AUGUSTUS TOPLADY. -] - -Toplady we should regard as the chief singer of the Revival, after -Charles Wesley, although entirely of another order; not so social as -meditative, and reminding us, in many of his pieces, of the -characteristics we have attributed to Watts. His midnight hymn is a -piece of uncommon sublimity; portions of it seem almost unfit for -congregational singing; but for inward plaintive meditation, for reading -in the evening family prayer, when the hushed stillness of night is over -the household, and the pilgrim of life is about to commit himself to the -unconsciousness of sleep, the verses seem tenderly suggestive: - - “Thy ministering spirits descend, - And watch while Thy saints are asleep; - By day and by night they attend, - The heirs of salvation to keep. - Bright seraphs despatched from the throne, - Fly swift to their stations assigned; - And angels elect are sent down - To guard the elect of mankind. - - “Their worship no interval knows; - Their fervour is still on the wing; - And, while they protect my repose, - They chant to the praise of my King. - I, too, at the season ordained, - Their chorus forever shall join, - And love and adore without end, - Their gracious Creator and mine.” - -We have noticed in a previous chapter that when Whitefield separated -himself from Wesley, the Revival took two distinctly different routes. -We only refer to this again for the purpose of remarking that as Toplady -was intensely Calvinistic in his method of Divine grace, so his hymns, -also, reflect in all its fulness that creed; yet they are full of -tenderness, and well calculated frequently to arouse dormant devotion. -“Your harps, ye trembling saints;” “Emptied of earth I fain would be;” -“When languor and disease invade;” “Jesus, immutably the same;” “A -debtor to mercy alone,” and many another, leave nothing to be desired -either on the score of devotion, poetry, or melody. - -In a far humbler sphere, but representing the same faith and fervour as -Toplady, and also carried away young, was Cennick. In an article in the -_Christian Remembrancer_, on English hymnology, written very much for -the purpose of throwing contempt on all the hymn-writers of the Revival, -Cennick is spoken of as “a low and violent person; his hymns peculiarly -offensive, both as to matter and manner.” Some exceptions are made by -the reviewer for “Children of the Heavenly King.” We may presume, -therefore, that to this writer, “Thou dear Redeemer, dying Lamb,” is one -of the “peculiarly offensive.” This is not wonderful, when in the next -page we read that “the hymns of Newton are the very essence of -doggerel.” This sounds rather strange, as a verdict, to those who have -felt the particular charm of that much-loved hymn, “How sweet the name -of Jesus sounds!” It is not without a purpose that we refer to this -paper in the _Christian Remembrancer_—evidently by a very scholarly -hand—because its whole tone shows how the sacred song of the Revival -would be likely to be regarded by those who had no sympathy with its -evangelical teaching. The writer, for instance, speaking of Wesley’s -hymns, doubts whether any of them could possibly be included by any -chance in English hymnology! “Jesus, lover of my soul,” is said, “in -some _small_ degree to approximate to the model of a Church hymn!” Of -the Countess of Huntingdon’s hymn-book, the writer says, “We shall -certainly not notice the raving profanity!” It is not necessary further -either to sadden or to irritate the reader by similar expressions; but -the entire paper, and the criticisms we have cited, will show what was -likely to be the effect of the hymns of the Revival on many similar -minds of that time. In fact, the joy of the Revival work arose from -this, that no person, no priest, nor Church usage, was needed to -interpose between the soul and the Saviour. Faith in Christ, and His -immediate, personal presence with the soul seeking Him by faith, as it -was the burden of the best of the sermons, so it was, also, of all the -great hymns. - -The origin and the authors of several eminent hymns are certainly -obscure. To Edward Perronet must be assigned the authorship of the fine -coronation anthem of the Lamb that was slain: “All hail the power of -Jesus’ name!” - -Another, which has become a universal favourite, is “Beyond the -glittering starry globe.” This is a noble and inspiring hymn; only a few -verses are usually quoted in our hymn-books. Lord Selborne divides its -authorship between Fanch and Turner. We have seen it attributed to -Olivers; this is certainly a mistake. The _Quarterly Review_, in a very -able paper on hymnology, reproducing an old legend concerning it, traces -it to two brothers in a humble situation in life, one an itinerant -preacher, the other a porter. The preacher desired the porter to carry a -letter for him. “I can’t go,” said the porter, “I am writing a hymn.” -“You write a hymn, indeed! Nonsense! you go with the letter, and I will -finish the hymn.” He went, and returned, but the hymn was unfinished. -The preacher had taken it up at the third verse, and his muse had -forsaken him at the eighth. “Give me the pen,” said the porter, and he -wrote off, - - “They brought His chariot from above, - To bear Him to His throne; - Clapped their triumphant wings, and cried, - ‘The glorious work is done!’” - -Unfortunately the author of the paper in the _Quarterly Review_ appears -never to have seen the hymn in its entirety. The verse he cites is not -the eighth, but the twenty-second, and it has been mutilated almost -wherever quoted; the verse itself is part of an apostrophe to the -angels, recalling their ministrations round our Lord: - - “Tended His chariot up the sky, - And bore Him to His throne; - Then swept your golden harps and cried, - ‘The glorious work is done!’” - -Whoever wrote the hymn had the imagination of a poet, the fine pathos of -a believer, and a strong lyrical power of expression. - -Anecdotes of the origin of many of our great hymns of this period are as -interesting as they are almost innumerable; those of which we are -speaking are hymns of the Revival—to speak concisely—perhaps commenced -with the Wesleys, and closed with Cowper and Newton. It must not be -supposed that there were no singers save those whose verses found their -way into the Wesleyan or other great collections of hymns; there were -James Grant, Joseph Griggs, especially notable, Miss Steele, the author -of a great number of hymns of universal acceptance in all our churches, -and which are more like those of Doddridge than any other since his day. -Then there was John Stocker,—but we would particularly notice Job -Hupton, the author of a hymn which has never been included in any -hymn-book except _Our Hymn Book_, edited by the author of this volume, -but which is scarcely inferior to “Beyond the glittering starry sky.” - - “Come, ye saints, and raise an anthem, - Cleave the skies with shouts of praise, - Sing to Him who found a ransom, - Ancient of eternal days. - Bring your harps, and bring your odours, - Sweep the string and pour the lay; - View His works! behold His wonders! - Let hosannas crown the day!” - -The hymn is far too long for quotation. Job Hupton was a Baptist -minister in the neighbourhood of Beccles, where he died in 1849, in the -eighty-eighth year of his age, and the sixty-fifth of his ministry. - -Thus there was set free throughout the country a spirit of sacred song -which was new to the experience of the nation: it was boldly -evangelical; it was devoted, not to the eulogy of Church forms and days; -there was not a syllable of Mariolatry; but praise to Christ, earnest -meditation upon the state of man without His work, and the blessedness -of the soul which had risen to the saving apprehension of it. This forms -the whole substance of the Divine melody. It has seemed to some that the -most perfect hymn in the English language is, “Jesus! lover of my soul.” -Sentiments may differ, arising from modifications of experience, but -that hymn undoubtedly is the very essence of all the hymns which were -sung in the days of the Great Revival. For the first time there was -given to Christian experience that which met it at every turn. Watts -found such a choir, and such an audience for his devotions, as he had -never known in his life; and “Charles Wesley,” says Isaac Taylor, “has -been drawing thousands in his wake and onward, from earth to heaven.” -The hymns met and united all companies and all societies. The bridal -party returned from church, singing, - - “We kindly help each other, - Till all shall wear the starry crown.” - -If they gathered round the grave, they sang;—and what a variety of -glorious funereal hymns they had! But that was a great favourite: - - “There all the ship’s company meet, - Who sailed with their Saviour beneath; - With shoutings each other they greet, - And triumph o’er sorrow and death.” - -Few separations took place without that song, - - “Blest be the dear uniting love, - That will not let us part.” - -While others became such favourites that even almost every service had -to be hallowed by them; such as, - - “Jesus! the name high over all, - In hell, or earth, or sky;” - -while an equal favourite almost, was, - - “Oh, for a thousand tongues to sing - My great Redeemer’s praise!” - -They must soon have become very well known, for so early as 1748, when a -sad cluster of convicts, horse-stealers, highway robbers, burglars, -smugglers, and thieves, were led forth to execution, the turnkey of the -prison said he had never seen such people before. The Methodists had -been among them; they had all yielded themselves to the power of “the -truth as it is in Jesus,” and on their way to Tyburn they all sang -together, - - “Lamb of God! whose bleeding love - We now recall to mind, - Send the answer from above, - And let us mercy find; - Think on us, who think of Thee, - And every struggling soul release; - Oh! remember Calvary, - And let us go in peace!” - -The hymns found their way to sick beds. The old Earl of Derby, the -grandfather of the present peer, was dying at Knowsley. He had for his -housekeeper there a Mrs. Brass, a good and faithful Methodist; the old -Earl was fond of talking with her upon religious matters, and one day -she read to him the well-known hymn, “All ye that pass by, to Jesus draw -nigh.” When she came to the lines, - - “The Lord in the day of His anger did lay - Our sins on the Lamb, and he bore them away,” - -the Earl looked up and said, “Stop! don’t you think, Mrs. Brass, that -ought to be, ‘The Lord in the day of his _mercy_ did lay’?” - -The old lady did not admit the validity of his lordship’s theology; but -it very abundantly showed that his experience had passed through the -verse, and reached to the true meaning of the hymn. An old blind woman -was hearing Peter McOwan preach. He quoted these lines: - - “The Lord pours eyesight on the blind; - The Lord supports the fainting mind.” - -The poor old woman was not happy until she met the preacher, and she -said, “But are there really such sweet verses? Are you sure the book -contains such a hymn?” and he read the whole to her. It is one by Watts: - - “I’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath.” - -Innumerable are the anecdotes of these hymns; they inaugurated really -the rise of English hymnology; and it is not too much to say that, as -compared with them, many more recent hymns are as tinsel compared with -gold. A writer truly says: “They sob, they swell, they meet the spirit -in its most hushed and plaintive mood. They roll and bear it aloft, in -its most inspired and prophetic moods, as on the surge of more than a -mighty organ swell; among the mines and quarries, and wild moors of -Cornwall, among the factories of Lancashire and Yorkshire, in chambers -of death, in the most joyous assemblages of the household, they have -relieved the hard lot, and sweetened the pleasant one; and even in other -lands soldiers and sailors, slaves and prisoners, have recited with what -joy these words have entered into their life.” - -Thus the great hymns of this period grew and became a religious power in -the land, strangely contradicting a verdict which Cardinal Wiseman -pronounced some years since, that “all Protestant devotion is dead.” -While we give all honour to the fine hymns of Denmark and Germany, many -of the best of which were translated with the movement, it may, with no -exaggeration, be said that the hymnology of England in the eighteenth -century is the finest and most complete which the history of the Church -has known. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - LAY PREACHING AND LAY PREACHERS. - - -There came with the work of the Revival a practice, without which it is -more than questionable if it would have obtained such a rapid and -abiding hold upon the various populations and districts of the country; -this was lay preaching. The designation must have a more inclusive -interpretation than we generally apply to it; we must understand by it -rather the work of those men who, in contradistinction to the great -leaders of the Revival—men of scholarship, of universities, and of -education—possessed none of these qualifications, or but in a more -slight and undisciplined degree. They were converted men, modified by -various temperaments; they one and all possessed an ardent zeal; but, in -many instances, we shall find that they were as much devoted to the work -of the ministry as those who had received a regular ordination. It is -singular that prejudices so strong should exist against lay preaching -and preachers, for the practice has surely received the sanction of the -most ancient usages of the Church, as even Dr. Southey admits, in his -notes to the _Life of Wesley_. Thus, in the history of the Church, this -phenomenon could scarcely be regarded as new. Orders of preaching -friars; “hedge-preachers,” “black, white, and grey,” with all their -company; disciples of Francis, Dominic, or Ignatius, had spread over -Europe during the dark and mediæval ages. Although this rousing element -of Church life had not found much expression in the churches of the -Reformation, yet with the impulse of the new Revival, up started these -men by multitudes. The reason of this was very simple. There is a -well-known little anecdote of some town missionary standing up in a -broad highway preaching to a multitude. He was arrested by a Roman -Catholic priest, who asked him from the edge of the crowd by what -authority he dared to stand there? and who had given him the right to -preach? The man had his New Testament in his hand; he rapidly turned to -the last chapter of it, and said, “I find it written here, ‘Let him that -heareth say, Come!’ I have heard, and I would say Come!” The anecdote -represents sufficiently the rise and progress of lay preaching in the -Revival. There first appeared, naturally, a simple set of men, who, in -their different spheres, would, perhaps, lead and direct a -prayer-meeting, and round it with some pious and gentle exhortation. We -have already pointed out the necessity soon felt for frequent and -reciprocative services; these were not the lay preachers to whom we -refer; but in this fraternal form of Church fellowship, the lay preacher -had his origin. - -Wesley imposed restrictions upon his helpers which he soon found himself -compelled to renounce. John Wesley was a strong adherent to the idea of -Church order. The first lay preacher in his communion who leapt over the -traces was Thomas Maxfield. It was at the Foundry in Moor Fields. Wesley -was in Bristol, and the intelligence was conveyed to him. He appears to -have regarded it as a serious and dangerous innovation. The good -Susannah Wesley, his mother—now past threescore years and ten—infirm and -feeble, was yet living in the Chapel House of the Foundry. To her John -hurried on his arrival in London; and after his affectionate salutations -and inquiries, he expressed such a manifest dissatisfaction and anxiety -that she inquired the cause. With some indignation and unusual -abruptness, he said, “Thomas Maxfield has turned preacher, I find;” and -then the wise and saintly woman gave him her advice. She reminded him -that, from her prejudices against lay preaching he could not suspect her -of favouring anything of the kind; “but take care,” she said, “what you -do respecting that young man, for he is as surely called of God to -preach as you are.” She advised her son to hear Maxfield for himself. He -did so, and at once buried all his prejudices. He exclaimed after the -sermon, “It is the Lord, let Him do what seemeth Him good!” and Thomas -Maxfield became the first of a host who spread all over the country. - -It may be supposed that the Countess of Huntingdon very naturally shared -all Wesley’s prejudices against lay preaching; but she heard Maxfield -preach, and she wrote of him, “God has raised one from the stones to sit -among the princes of the people. He is my astonishment; how is God’s -power shown in weakness!” and she soon set herself to the work of -supplying an order of men, of whom Maxfield was the first to lead the -way. By-and-by came another innovation: the lay evangelists at first -never went into the pulpit, but spoke from among the people, or from the -desk. The first who broke through this usage was Thomas Walsh; we will -say more of him presently. He was a man of deep humility, and his life -reveals entire and extraordinary consecration; but he believed himself -to be an ambassador for Christ, and he walked directly up into the -pulpit, never questioning, but quite disregarding the usual custom. The -majesty of his manner, his solemn, impressive, and commanding eloquence, -forbade all remark; and henceforth all the lay preachers followed his -example. There arose a band of extraordinary men. Let the reader refer -to the chronicles of their lives, and the effects of their labours, and -he will not suppose that he has seen anything in our day at all -approaching to what they were. - -Local preachers have now long been part of the great organisation of -Methodism. But in the period to which we refer, it must be remembered -that the pen had not commenced the exercise of its more popular -influence. There were few authors, few journalists, very few really -popular books; these men, then, with their various gifts of elevated -holiness, broad and rugged humour, or glowing imagination, went to and -fro among the people, rousing and instructing the dormant mind of the -country. Then it was Wesley’s great aim to sustain interest by variety. -Wesley himself said that he believed he should preach himself and his -congregation asleep if he were to confine his ministrations to one -pulpit for twelve months. We would take the liberty to say in reference -to this, that it would depend upon whether he kept his own mind fresh -and wakeful during the time. He writes, however: “We have found by long -and constant experience, that a frequent change of teachers is best; -this preacher has one talent, that another. No one whom I ever knew has -all the talents which are needful for beginning, continuing, and -perfecting the work in a whole congregation; neither,” he adds, “can he -find matter for preaching morning and evening, nor will the people come -to hear him; hence he grows cold, and so do the people; whereas if he -never stays more than a fortnight together in one place, he may find -matter enough, and the people will gladly hear him.” - -This certainly gives an idea but of a plain order of services; and, no -doubt, some of Wesley’s preachers were of the plainest. There was -Michael Fenwick, of whom Wesley says, “he was just made to travel with -me—an excellent groom, _valet de chambre_, nurse, and, upon occasion, a -tolerable preacher.” This good man was one day vain enough to complain -to Wesley, that although he was constantly travelling with him, his name -was never inserted in Wesley’s published _Journals_. In the next number -he found himself immortalised with his master there. “I left Epworth,” -writes Wesley, “with great satisfaction, and about one, preached at -Clayworth. I think none were unmoved but Michael Fenwick, who fell fast -asleep under an adjoining hayrick.” - -A higher type of man, but still of the very plain order of preachers, -was Joseph Bradford. He also was Wesley’s frequent travelling companion, -and he judged no service too servile by which he could show his -reverence for his master. But on one occasion Wesley directed him to -carry a packet of letters to the post. The occasion was very -extraordinary, and Bradford wished to hear Wesley’s sermon first. Wesley -was urgent and insisted that the letters must go. Bradford refused; he -would hear the sermon. “Then,” said Wesley, “you and I must part!” “Very -good, sir,” said Bradford. The service was over. They slept in the same -room. On rising in the morning, Wesley accosted his old friend and -companion, and asked if he had considered what had been said, that they -must part. “Yes, sir,” replied Bradford. “And must we part?” inquired -Wesley. “Please yourself, sir,” was the reply. “Will you ask my pardon?” -rejoined Wesley. “No, sir.” “You wont?” “No, sir.” “Then I will ask -yours,” replied the great man. It is said that Bradford melted under the -words, and wept like a child. But we must not convey the idea that the -early preachers were generally of this order. “In a great house there -are vessels to honour and vessels to dishonour.” “Vessels of dishonour” -assuredly were none of these men: but there were some who attained to a -greatness almost as remarkable as the greatness of the three, Whitefield -and the Wesleys. - -What a man was John Nelson! His was a life full of singular incidents. -It was truly apostolic, whether we consider its holy magnanimity, the -violence and vehemence of the cruel persecutions he encountered, or his -singular power over excited mobs; reminding us sometimes of Paul -fighting as with wild beasts at Ephesus, or standing with cunning tact, -and disarming at once captain and crowd on the steps of the Castle at -Jerusalem. Then, although he was but a poor working stonemason, he had a -high gentlemanly bearing, before which those who considered themselves -gentlemen, magistrates and others, fell back abashed and ashamed. He was -one of the prophets of Yorkshire; and many of the large Societies at -this day in Leeds, Halifax, and Bradford owe their foundation to him. It -seems wonderful to us now, that merely preaching the word of truth, and -especially as John Nelson preached it, with such a cheerful, radiant, -and even heavenly manner, should bring out mighty mobs to assault him. -The stories of his itinerancy are innumerable, and his life is really -one of the most romantic in these preaching annals. At Nottingham, while -he was preaching, the crowds threw squibs at him and round him; but, as -he was still pursuing his path of speech, a sergeant in the army pressed -up to him, with tears, saying, “In the presence of God and all this -company, I beg your pardon. I came here on purpose to mob you, but I -have been compelled to hear you; and I here declare I believe you to be -a servant of the living God!” He threw his arms round Nelson’s neck, -kissed him, and went away weeping; and we see him no more. Perhaps more -remarkable still was his reception at Grimsby. There the clergyman of -the parish hired a drummer to gather a great mob, as he said, “to defend -the rights of the Church.” The storm which raged round Nelson was wild -and ferocious; but it illustrates the power of this extraordinary man -over his rudest hearers, that after beating his drum for a long time, -the poor drummer threw it away, and stood listening, the tears running -down his cheeks. - -[Illustration: - - John Nelson at Nottingham. -] - -Nelson was a man of immense physical strength; his own trade had -fostered this, and before his conversion he had, no doubt, been feared -as a man who could hit out and hit hard. As the most effectual means of -silencing him, he was pressed for a soldier; but John was not only a -Methodist, he had adopted the Quaker notion that a Christian dare not -fight; and he seems to have been a real torment to the officers and men -of the regiment, who indeed marched him about different parts of the -country, but could not get him either to accept the king’s money or to -submit to drill. An officer put him in prison for rebuking his -profanity, and threatened to chastise him. Nelson says, “It caused a -sore temptation to arise in me; to think that a wicked, ignorant man -should thus torment me, and I able to tie his head and heels together. I -found an old man’s bone in me; but the Lord lifted up the standard -within, else should I have wrung his neck and set my foot upon him.” - -At length, after three months, the Countess of Huntingdon procured his -discharge. The regiment was in Newcastle. He preached there on the -evening of the day on which he was liberated, and it is testified that a -number of the soldiers from his regiment came to hear him, and parted -from him with tears. He was arrested as a vagrant, without any visible -means of living. A gentleman instantly stepped forward and offered five -hundred pounds bail; but the bail was refused. He was able to prove that -he was a high-charactered, industrious workman; but it availed nothing. -Crowds wept and prayed for him as he was borne through the streets. -“Fear not!” he cried, “oh, friends; God hath His way in the whirlwind, -and in the storm. Only pray that my faith fail not!” It was at Bradford. -They thrust him into a most filthy dungeon. The authorities would give -him no food. The people thrust in food, water, and candles. He shared -these with some wretched prisoners in the same cage, and he sang hymns, -and talked to them all night. He was marched off to York; but there the -excitement was so great when it was known that John Nelson was coming a -prisoner that armed troops were ordered out to guard him. He says, “Hell -from beneath was moved to meet me at my coming!” All the windows were -crowded with people—some in sympathy, but most cheering and huzzaing as -if some great political traitor had been arrested; but he says, “The -Lord made my brow like brass, so that I could look upon all the people -as grasshoppers, and pass through the city as if there had been none in -it but God and me.” - -Such was John Nelson. These anecdotes are sufficient to show the manner -of man he was. He has been truly called “the proto-martyr of Methodism.” -But it is not in a hint or two that all can be said which ought to be -said of this noble and extraordinary man. His conversion, perhaps, sank -down to deeper roots than in many instances. The thoughts of Methodism -found him perplexed with those agonizing questions which have tormented -men in all ages, until they have realized the truth as it is in Jesus. -His life was guilty of no immoralities; he had a happy, humble home, was -industrious, and receiving good wages; but as he walked to and fro among -the fields he was distressed, “for,” he said, “surely God never made man -to be such a riddle to himself, and to leave him so.” He heard Wesley -preach. “Then,” he says, “my heart beat like the pendulum of a clock, -and I thought his whole discourse was aimed at me;” and so, in short, he -became a Methodist, and a Methodist preacher; and among the noble names -in the history of the Church of Christ, in his own line and order, it -may be doubted whether a nobler name can be mentioned than that of John -Nelson. - -Quite another order of man, less human, but equally divine, was Thomas -Walsh. His parents were Romanists, and he was intended by them for the -Romish priesthood; and he appears to have been an intense Romanist -ascetic until about eighteen years of age. He had a thoughtful and -exceedingly intense nature, and his faith was no rest to him. In his -dilemma he heard a Methodist preacher speak one day from the text, “Come -unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you -rest.” It appears to have been the turning-point of a remarkable life. - -“The life of Thomas Walsh,” says Dr. Southey, “might almost convince a -Catholic that saints were to be found in other communions as well as in -the Church of Rome.” Walsh became a great biblical scholar; he was an -Irishman, he mastered the native Irish, that he might preach in it; but -Latin, Greek, and Hebrew became familiar to him; and of the Hebrew, -especially, it is said that he studied so deeply, that his memory was an -entire concordance of the whole Bible. His soul was as a flame of fire, -but it burnt out the body quickly. John Wesley says of him, “I do not -remember ever to have known a man who, in so few years as he remained -upon earth, was the instrument of converting so many sinners.” He became -mighty in his influence over the Roman Catholics. The priests said that -“Walsh had died some years ago, and that he who went about preaching, on -mountains and highways, in meadows, private houses, prisons, and ships, -was a devil who had assumed his shape.” This was the only way in which -they could account for the extraordinary influence he possessed. His -labours were greatly divided between Ireland and London, but everywhere -he bore down all before him by a kind of absorbed ecstasy of ardent -faith; but he died at the age of twenty-seven. While lying on his -death-bed he was oppressed with a sense of despair, even of his -salvation. The sufferings of his mind on this account were protracted -and intense; at last he broke out in an exclamation, “He is come! He is -come! My Beloved is mine, and I am His for ever!” and so he fell back -and died. Thomas Walsh is a great name still in the records of the lay -preachers of early Methodism. - -All orders of men rose: different from any we have mentioned was George -Story, whose quiet, but earnest and reasonable nature, seems to have -commanded the especial love of Southey. He appears never to have become -what some call an enthusiast; but he interestingly illustrates, that it -was not merely over the rugged and uninformed minds that the power of -the Revival exercised its influence. Very curiously, he appears to have -been converted by thinking about Eugene Aram, the well-known scholar, -whose name has become so celebrated in fiction and in poetry, and who -had a short time before been executed for murder at York. Story was -impressed by the importance of the acquisition of knowledge, and Aram’s -extraordinary attainments kindled in his mind a sense of admiration and -emulation; but, as he thought upon his life, he reasoned, “What did this -man’s learning profit him? It did not save him from becoming a thief and -a murderer, or even from attempting his own life.” It was an immense -suggestion to him; it led him upon another track of thinking. The -Methodists came through his village; he yielded himself to the -influence, and Dr. Southey thinks “there is not in the whole biography -of Methodism a more interesting or remarkable case than his.” He became -a great preacher, but disarmed and convinced men rather by his calm, -dispassionate elevation of manner, than by such weapons as the cheerful -_bonhomie_ of Nelson, or the fervid fire of Walsh. - -But we are, perhaps, conveying the idea that it was only beneath the -administration of John Wesley that these great lay preachers were to be -found. It was not so; but no doubt beneath that administration their -itinerancy became more systematic and organised. Whitefield does not -appear to have at all shared Wesley’s prejudices on this means of -usefulness; but those men who fell beneath the influence of Whitefield, -or the Countess, seem soon to meet us as settled ministers, in many, if -not in all instances. Among them there are few greater names in the -whole Revival than those of Captain Jonathan Scott and the renowned -Captain Toriel Joss. Captain Scott was a captain of dragoons, and one of -the heroes of Minden; he was converted by the instrumentality of William -Romaine, who, in spite of his prejudices against lay preaching, -encouraged him in his excursions, in which he spoke to immense crowds -with great effect. Fletcher, of Madeley, said, “his coat shames many a -black one.” He was a gentleman of an ancient and opulent family, and the -Countess, who, naturally, was delighted to see people of her own order -by her side, felt herself greatly strengthened by him. It was said, when -he preached at Leeds, the whole town turned out to hear him; and he was -one of the great preachers of the Tabernacle in Moorfields, during more -than twenty years. But yet a far more famous man was Toriel Joss. He was -a captain of the seas, and had led a life which somewhat reminds us of -Newton’s. He was a good and even great sailor, but he became a greater -preacher. Whitefield said of these two men, that “God, who sitteth upon -the flood, can bring a shark from the ocean, and a lion from the forest, -to show forth his praise.” Joss was a man of property, with a fair -prospect of considerable wealth, when he renounced the seas and became -one of the great lay preachers. Whitefield insisted that he should -abandon the chart, the compass, and the deck, and take to the pulpit. He -did so. In London his fame was second only to that of Whitefield -himself. He became Whitefield’s coadjutor at the Tabernacle, where, -first as associate pastor, and afterwards as pastor, he continued for -thirty years. The chapel at Tottenham Court Road was his chief field, -and John Berridge called him “Whitefield’s Archdeacon of Tottenham.” - -[Illustration: - - TABERNACLE, MOORFIELDS. -] - -We cannot particularise others: there were Sampson Staniforth, the -soldier, Alexander Mather, Christopher Hopper, John Haime, John -Parson—and these are only representative names. There were crowds of -them; they travelled to and fro, with hard fare, throughout the land. -Their excursions were not recreations or amusements. Attempt to think -what England was at that time. It is a fact that they often had to swim -through streams and wade through snows to keep their appointments; often -to sleep in summer in the open air, beneath the trees of a forest. -Sometimes a preacher was seen with a spade strapped to his back, to cut -a way for man and horse through the heavy snow-drifts. Highwaymen were -abroad, and there are many odd stories about their encounters with these -men; but, then, usually, they had nothing to lose. Rogers, in his _Lives -of the Early Preachers_, tells a characteristic story. One of these lay -preachers, as usual on horseback, was waylaid by three robbers; one of -them seized the bridle of his horse, the second put a pistol to his -head, the third began to pull him from the saddle—all, of course, -declaring that they would have his money or his life. The preacher -looked solemnly at them, and asked them “if they had prayed that -morning.” This confounded them a little, still they continued their work -of plunder. One pulled out a knife to rip the saddle-bag open; the -preacher said, “There are only some books and tracts there; as to money, -I have only twopence halfpenny in my pocket;” he took it out and gave it -them. “All that I have of value about me,” he said, “is my coat. I am a -servant of God; I am going on His errand to preach; but let me kneel -down and pray with you; that will do you more good than anything I can -give you.” One of them said, “I will have nothing to do with anything we -can get from this man!” They had taken his watch; they restored this, -and took up the bags and fastened them again on the horse. The preacher -thanked them for their great civility to him; “But now,” said he, “I -will pray!” and he fell upon his knees, and prayed with great power. Two -of the rascals, utterly frightened at this treatment, started off as -fast as their legs could carry them; the third—he who had first refused -to have anything to do with the job—continued on his knees with the -preacher; and when they parted company he promised that he would try to -lead a new life, and hoped to become a new man. - -Should the reader search the old magazines and documents in which are -enshrined the records of the early days of the Revival, he will find -many incidents showing what a romantic story is this of the -self-denials, the difficulties, and enthusiasm of these men, whose best -record is on high—most of them faithful men, like Alexander Coates, who, -after a life of singular length and usefulness in the work, went to his -rest. His talents were said to be extraordinary, both in preaching and -in conversation. Just as he was dying, one of his brethren called upon -him and said, “You don’t think you have followed a cunningly-devised -fable now?” “No, no, no!” said the dying man. “And what do you see?” -“Land ahead!” said the old man. They were his last words. Such were the -men of this Great Revival; so they lived their lives of faithful -usefulness, and so they passed away. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - A GALLERY OF REVIVALIST PORTRAITS. - - -If we were writing a sustained history of the Revival, we might devote -some pages, at this period, to notice the varied forms of satire and -ribaldry by which it was greeted. While the noble bands of preachers -were pursuing their way, instructing and awakening the popular mind of -the country, not only heartless and affected dilettanti, like Horace -Walpole, regarded it with the condescension of their supercilious -sneers, but for the more popular taste there was _The Spiritual -Quixote_, a book which even now has its readers, and in which Whitefield -and his followers were held up to ridicule; and Lackington, the great -bookseller, in his disgraceful, but entertaining autobiography, -attempted to cover the Societies of Wesley with his scurrility. It was -about the year 1750 that _The Minor_ was brought out on the stage of the -Haymarket Theatre; the author was that great comedian, but most -despicable and dissolute character, Foote. The play lies before us as we -write; we have taken it down to notice the really shameless buffoonery -and falsehood in which it indulges. Whitefield is especially libelled -and burlesqued. The Countess of Huntingdon waited personally on the Lord -Chamberlain, and besought him to suppress it; it was not much to the -credit of his lordship’s knowledge, that he declared, had he known the -evil influence of the thing before it was licensed, it should not have -been produced, but being licensed, it was beyond his control. Then the -good Countess waited on David Garrick; Garrick knew and admired -Whitefield; he received her with distinguished kindness and respect, and -it is to his honour that, through his influence, it was temporarily -suppressed. It seems a singular compensation that the author of this -piece, who permitted himself to indulge in the most disgraceful -insinuations against one of the holiest and purest of men, a few years -after was charged with a great crime, of which he was, no doubt, quite -innocent, and died a broken-hearted and beggared man. - -Another of these disgraceful stage libels, _The Hypocrite_, appeared at -Drury Lane in 1768; in it are the well-known characters of Dr. Cantwell, -and Mawworm, and old Lady Lambert. There is more of a kind of genius in -it than in _The Minor_, but it was all stolen property, and little more -than an appropriation from Molière’s _Tartuffe_ and Cibber’s _Nonjuror_. -All these things are forgotten now; but they are worthy of notice as -entering into the history of the Revival, and showing the malice which -was stirred in multitudes of minds against men and designs, on the -whole, so innocent and holy. Was it not written from of old, “The carnal -mind is enmity against God”? - -But as to the movement itself, companions-in-arms, and of a very high -order alike for valour and character, crowded to the field; we have -referred to several distinguished laymen; it is at least equally -important to notice that while the leaders of the Church were, as a -body, set in array against it—while archbishops and bishops of that day -frowned, or scoffed and scorned, there were a number of clergymen whose -piety, whose wit and eloquence, whose affluent humour, whose learning, -whose intrepidity and sleepless variety of labour, surround their names, -even now as then, with a charm of interest, making every life as it -comes before us a readable and delightful recreation. Some of them were -assuredly oddities; it is not long since we made a pilgrimage to -Everton, in Bedfordshire, to read the singular epitaph, on the tomb in -the churchyard, of one of the oddest and most extraordinary of all these -men. Even if our readers have read that epitaph, it will do them no harm -to read it again: - - - Here lie - The earthly remains of - JOHN BERRIDGE, - Late Vicar of Everton, - And an itinerant servant of Jesus Christ, - Who loved his Master, and His work, - And after running on His errands many years, - Was called up to wait on Him above. - Reader, - Art thou born again? - No salvation without a New Birth! - I was born in sin, February, 1716, - Remained ignorant of my fallen state till 1730, - Lived proudly on Faith and Works for Salvation - Till 1751. - Was admitted to Everton Vicarage, 1755. - Fled to Jesus alone for refuge, 1756. - Fell asleep in Christ Jesus, January 22, 1793. - - -With the exception of the date of his death, it was written by the hand -that moulders beneath the stone; it is characteristic that its writer -caused himself to be buried in that part of the churchyard where, up to -that time, only those had been interred who had destroyed themselves, or -come to an ignominious end. Before his death he had often said that he -would take this effectual means of consecrating that unhallowed spot. - -This epitaph sufficiently shows that John Berridge was an original -character. Southey says of him that he was a buffoon and a fanatic. -Southey’s judgments about the men of the Revival were frequently as -shallow as they were unjust; he must have felt a sharp sting when, as -doubtless was the case, he heard the well-known anecdote of George IV., -who, on reading Richard Watson’s calm reply to Southey’s attacks on the -Methodist leaders, exclaimed, as he laid down the book, “Oh, my poor -Poet Laureate!” He deserved all that and a good deal more, if only for -the verdict we have quoted on Berridge. So far as scholarship may test a -man, John Berridge was most likely a far deeper scholar than Dr. -Southey; he was a distinguished member of Clare Hall, Cambridge, and for -many years read and studied fourteen hours a day; but he was an -uncontrollable droll and humourist; pithy proverbs fell spontaneously -along all his speech. As one critic says of his style, “It was like -granulated salt.” As a preacher, he was equal to any multitudes; he -lived among farmers and graziers, and the twinkling of his eye, all -alive with shrewd cheerfulness, compelled attention even before he -opened his lips. The late Dr. Guthrie, not long before his death, -thought it worth his while to republish _The Christian World Unmasked; -pray Come and Peep_; and it is characteristic of Berridge throughout. - -After his conversion, his Bishop called him up and threatened to send -him to gaol for preaching out of his parish. Our readers may imagine -with such a man what sort of conference it was, and which of the two -would be likely to get the worst of it: “I tell you,” said the Bishop, -“if you continue preaching where you have no right, you are very likely -to be sent to Huntingdon Gaol.” “I have no more regard for a gaol than -other folks,” said he; “but I would rather go there with a good -conscience than be at liberty without one.” The conference is too long -for quotation, but Berridge held on his way; he became one of the most -beloved and intimate friends of the Countess of Huntingdon; and if he -shocked his bishop by preaching out of his own parish, he must have -roused his wrath by preaching in her ladyship’s chapel in London, and -throughout the country. His letters to the Countess are as -characteristic as his speech, or any other of his writings. Thus he -writes to her about young Rowland Hill, “I find you have got honest -Rowland down to Bath; he is a pretty young spaniel, fit for land or -water, and he has a wonderful yelp; he forsakes father and mother and -brethren, and gives up all for Jesus, and I believe he will prove a -useful labourer if he keeps clear of petticoat snares.” No doubt, -Berridge sometimes seemed not only racy, but rude; but his words were -wonderfully calculated to meet the average and level of an immense -congregation. While he lived on terms of fellowship with all the great -leaders of the movement, he was faithful as the vicar of his own parish, -and was the apostle of the whole region of Bedfordshire. - -With all his shrewd worldly wisdom, Berridge had a most benevolent hand; -he was rich, and devoted far more than the income of his vicarage to -helping his poor neighbours, supporting itinerant ministers, renting -houses and barns for preaching the Gospel, and, however far he travelled -to preach, always disbursing his expenses from his own pocket. How he -would have loved John Bunyan, and how John Bunyan would have loved him! -It is curious that within a few miles of the place where the illustrious -dreamer was so long imprisoned, one should arise out of the very Church -which persecuted Bunyan, to do for a long succession of years, on the -same ground, the work for which he was persecuted. - -[Illustration: - - Haworth Church. -] - -From the low Bedford level, what a flight to the wildest spot in wild -Yorkshire, Haworth, and its venerable old parish church, celebrated now -as a classic region, haunted by the memory of the author of _Jane Eyre_, -and all the Brontë family; but in the times of which we are writing, the -vicar, William Grimshaw, was quite as queer and quaint a creature as -Berridge. A wild spot now—a stern, grand place; desolate moors still -seeming to stretch all round it; though more easily reached in this day, -it must indeed have been a rough solitude when William Grimshaw became -its vicar, in 1742. He was born in 1708; he died in 1763. He was a man -something of the nature of the wild moors around him. When he became the -pastor of the parish, the people all round him were plunged in the most -sottish heathenism. The pastor was a kind of son of the desert, and he -became such an one as the Baptist, crying in the wilderness. The people -were rough, they perhaps needed a rough shepherd; they had one. The -character of Grimshaw is that of a rough, faithful, and not less -beautiful shepherd’s dog. On the Sabbath morning he would commence his -service, giving out the psalm, and having taken note of the absentees -from the congregation, would start off, while the psalm was being sung, -to drive in the loiterers, visiting the ale-houses, routing out the -drinkers, and literally compelling them to come into the parish church. -One Sabbath morning, a stranger riding through Haworth, seeing some men -scrambling over a garden wall, and some others leaping through a low -window, imagined the house was on fire. He inquired what was the matter. -One of them cried out, “The parson’s a coming!” and that explained the -riddle. Upon another occasion, as a man was passing through the village, -on the Sabbath day, on his way to call a doctor, his horse lost a shoe. -He found his way to the village smithy to have his loss repaired. The -blacksmith told him that it was the Lord’s day, and the work could not -be done unless the minister gave his permission. So they went to the -parson, who, of course, as the case was urgent and necessary, gave his -consent. But the story illustrates the mastery the vicar attained over -the rough minds around him. He was a man of a hardy mould. He was -intensely earnest. He not only effected a mighty moral change in his own -parish, but Haworth was visited every Sabbath by pilgrims from miles -round to listen to this singular, strong, mountain voice; so that the -church became unequal to the great congregations, and he often had to -preach in the churchyard, a desolate looking spot now, but alive with -mighty concourses then. It is said that his strong, pithy words haunted -men long after they were spoken, as the infidel nobleman, who, in an -affected manner, told him he was unable to see the truth of -Christianity. “The fault,” said the rough vicar, “is not so much in your -lordship’s head as in your heart.” - -[Illustration: - - GRIMSHAW’S HOUSE. -] - -Grimshaw was the first who kindled in the wild heights of Yorkshire the -flames of the Revival. His mind was stirred simultaneously with others, -but he does not appear to have received either from Whitefield or Wesley -the impulses which created his extraordinary character, though he, of -course, entered heartily into all their work. They visited Haworth, and -preached to immense concourses there. As to Grimshaw himself, in the -most irregular manner, he preached in the Methodist conventicles and -dissenting chapels in all the country round. He effected an entire -change in his own neighbourhood. He put down the races; he reformed the -village feasts, wakes, and fairs. He was often expecting suspension, and -at last he was cited before the Archbishop, who inquired of him as to -the number of his communicants. “How many,” said his grace, “had you -when you first went to Haworth?” “Twelve.” “And how many now?” “In the -summer, about twelve hundred.” The astonished Archbishop turned to his -assistants in the examination, and said, “I really cannot find fault -with Mr. Grimshaw when he brings so many people to the Lord’s Table.” -Southey is also complimentary, in his own way, to this singular -clergyman, and says, “He was certainly mad!” - -[Illustration: - - William Grimshaw. -] - -It was what Festus said to Paul; but the madness of the pastor of -Haworth was a blessing to the farms and cottages of those wild -moorlands. He was a child of nature in her most beautiful moods, -glorified by Divine grace. The freshness and buoyancy of the heath his -foot so lightly pressed, and the torrents which sung around him, were -but typical of his hardy naturalness and beauty of character. Truly it -has been said, it was not more natural that the gentle lover of nature -should lie at the foot of Helvellyn, than that this watchman of the -mountains should sleep at the foot of the hills amongst which he had so -faithfully laboured. He died comparatively young. His last words were -very characteristic. Robert Shaw, an old Methodist preacher, called upon -him; he said, “I will pray for you as long as I live, and if there is -praying in heaven, I will pray for you there; I am as happy as I can be -on earth, and as sure of glory as if I were in it.” His last words were, -“Here goes an unprofitable servant!” - -The wild Yorkshire of that day took up the Revival with a will; and -Henry Venn, of Huddersfield, we suppose, has even transcended by his -usefulness the fame of either Berridge or Grimshaw; he was born in 1724, -and died in 1797. His life was genial and fruitful, and to his church in -Huddersfield the people poured in droves to listen to him. It has been -said his life was like a field of wheat, or a fine summer day. And how -are these to be painted or put upon the canvas? He could scarcely be -called eccentric, excepting in the sense in which earnestness, holiness, -and usefulness are always eccentric. His influence may be said, in some -directions, to continue still. He was one of the indefatigable -coadjutors of the Countess in all her work, and towards the close of his -life he came to London to throw his influence round young Rowland Hill, -by preaching for some time in Surrey Chapel. - -In another district of Yorkshire, a mighty movement was going on, -commencing about 1734. Benjamin Ingham, whom we met some time since at -Oxford, as a member of the Holy Club, was living at Ossett, near -Dewsbury. He had married Lady Margaret Hastings, a younger sister of the -Countess of Huntingdon. He had received ordination in the Church of -England, but his irregularities had forced him out. Like the Wesleys, in -the earlier part of his history, he became enchanted with the devotional -life of the Moravians, and at this period he introduced with marvellous -results a modified Moravianism into the West Riding of Yorkshire. He -founded as many as eighty Societies; but he appears to have attempted to -carry out an impossible scheme, the union of the Moravian discipline and -doctrine with his idea of Congregationalism. His influence over the West -Riding for a long time was immense; but, most naturally, divisions -arose, and the purely Moravian element separated itself into its own -order of Church life, while the Methodist element was absorbed in the -great and growing Wesleyan Societies. He was a friend of Count -Zinzendorf, who was his guest for a long time at Ledstone House. The -shock which his Society sustained, and the death of Lady Margaret, his -admirable and beloved wife, were blows from which the good man never -recovered; but the effects of his usefulness continued, although he -passed; and if the reader ever visits the little Moravian Colony and -Institution of Fulneck, near Leeds, in Yorkshire, he may be pleased to -remember that this is also one of the offshoots of the Great Revival. - -It is a sudden leap from the West Riding of Yorkshire to Truro, the -charming little capital of Western Cornwall. We are here met by an -imperishable and beautiful name, that of Samuel Walker, the minister; he -was born in 1714, and died in 1761. His influence over his town was -great and abiding, and Walker of Truro is a name which to this day -retains its fragrance, as associated with the restoration of his town -from wild depravity to purity and exemplary piety. - -How impossible it is to do more than merely mention the names of men, -every action of whose lives was consecrated, and every breath an ardent -flame, all helping on and urging forward the great work of rousing a -careless world and a careless Church. What an influence had William -Romaine, who for a long time, it has been said, was one of the sights of -London; it was rather drolly put when it was said, “People came from the -country to see Garrick act and to hear Romaine preach!” Nor let our -readers suppose that he was a mere sensational orator; he was a great -scholar. We hear of him first as the Gresham Professor of Astronomy, and -the editor of the four volumes of Calasio’s _Hebrew Concordance_; then -he caught the evangelic fire; he became one of the chaplains of the -Countess of Huntingdon, and, so far as the Church of the Establishment -was concerned, he was the most considerable light of London for a period -of nearly fifty years; and very singular was his history in this -relation, especially in some of the churches whose pulpits he filled. It -seems singular to us now how even his great talents could obtain for him -the place of morning lecturer at St. George’s, Hanover Square; but the -charge was soon urged against him that he vulgarised that most -fashionable of congregations, and most uncomfortably crowded the church. -He was appointed evening lecturer at St. Dunstan’s in Fleet Street; but -the rector barred his entrance into the pulpit, seating himself there -during the time of prayers, so that the preacher might be unable to -enter. Lord Mansfield decided that, after seven in the evening, the -church was not the rector’s, but that Mr. Romaine was entitled to the -use of it; then, at seven in the evening, the churchwardens closed the -church doors, and kept the congregation outside, wearying them in the -rain or in the cold. At length, the patience of the churchwardens gave -way before the persistency of the people and the preacher; but it was an -age of candles, and they refused to light the church, and Mr. Romaine -often preached in a crowded church by the light of one candle. They paid -him the merest minimum which he could demand, or which they were -compelled to pay; sometimes only eighteen pounds a year. But he was a -hardy man, and he lived on the plainest fare, and dressed in homespun -cloth. He was dragged repeatedly before courts of law, but he was as -difficult to manage here as in the church; he brought his judges to the -statutes, none of which he had broken. Every effort was made to expel -him from the Church, but he would not be cast out; and at last he -appears to have settled himself, as such men generally do, into an -irresistible fact. He became the Rector of St. Ann’s, Blackfriars. There -he preached those sermons which were shaped afterwards into the -favourite book of our forefathers, _The Life, Walk, and Triumph of -Faith_. Born in 1714, he died in 1795. His last years were clothed with -a pleasant serenity, although, perhaps, some have detected in his -character marks of a severity, probably the result of those conflicts -which, through so many years, he had with such remarkable consistency -sustained. - -[Illustration: - - ST. ANN’S, BLACKFRIARS. -] - -And surely we ought to mention, in this right noble band, John Newton; -but he brings us near to the time when the passion of the Revival was -settling itself into organisation and calm; when the fury of persecution -was ceasing; Methodism was becoming even a respectable and acknowledged -fact. John Newton was born in 1725, and died in 1807. All his sympathies -were with the theology and the activities of the revivalists; but before -he most singularly found himself the Rector of St. Mary Woolnoth, and -St. Mary Woolchurch, he had led a life which, for its marvellous variety -of incident, reads like one of Defoe’s fictions. - -[Illustration: - - St. Mary Woolnoth. - John Newton. -] - -But his parlour in No. 8 Coleman Street Buildings, on a Friday evening, -was thronged by all the dignitaries of the evangelical movement of his -day. As he said, “I was a wild beast on the coast of Africa, but the -Lord caught me and tamed me; and now you come to see me as people go to -see the lions in the Tower.” A grand old man was John Newton, the young -sailor transformed into the saintly old rector; there he sat with few -traces of the parson about him, in his blue pea-jacket, and his black -neckerchief, liking still to retain something of the freedom of his old -blue seas; full of quaint wisdom, which never, like that of his friend -Berridge, became rude or droll; quietly sitting there and meditating; -his enthusiastic life apparently having subsided into stillness, while -the Hannah Mores, Wilberforces, Claudius Buchanans, and John Campbells, -went to him to find their enthusiasm confirmed. The friend of Cowper, -who surely deserves to be called the Poet Laureate of the -Revival—himself the author of some of the sweetest hymns we still sing; -the biographer of his own wonderful career, and of the life of his -friend and brother-in-arms, William Grimshaw; one of the finest of our -religious letter-writers; with capacities within him for almost -everything he might have thought it wise to undertake, he now seems to -us appropriately to close this small gallery we have attempted to -present. When the spirit of the Revival was either settling into -firmness and consolidation, or striking out into those new and -marvellous fields of labour—its natural outgrowth—which another chapter -may present succinctly to the eye, John Newton, by his great experience -of men, his profound faith, his steady hand and clear eye, became the -wise adviser and fosterer of schemes whose gigantic enterprise would -certainly have astonished even his capacious intelligence. - -In closing this chapter it is quite worth while to notice that, various -as were the characters of these men, and of their innumerable comrades, -to whom we do homage, although we have no space even to mention their -names, their strength arose from the certainty and the confidence with -which they spoke; there was nothing tentative about their teaching. That -great scholar, Sir William Hamilton, says that “assurance is the -_punctum saliens_, that is the strong point of Luther’s system;” so it -was with all these men, “We speak that we do know, and testify that we -have seen;” it was the full assurance of knowledge; and it gave them -authority over the men with whom they wrestled, whether in public or -private. Whitefield and Wesley alike, and all their followers, had -strong faith in God. They were believers in the personal regard of God -for the souls of men; and every idea of prayer supposes some such -personal regard, whether offered by the highest of high Calvinists, or -the simplest primitive Methodist; the whole spirit of the Revival turned -on this; these men, as they strongly believed, were able, by the strong -attractive force of their own nature, to compel other minds to their -convictions. Their history strongly illustrates that that teaching which -oscillates to and fro in a pendulous uncertainty is powerless to reform -character or influence mind. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - BLOSSOMS IN THE WILDERNESS. - - -The preceding chapters have shown that the Great Revival was creating -over the wild moral wastes of England a pure and spiritual atmosphere, -and its movements and organisations were taking root in every direction. -Voltaire, and that pedantic cluster of conceited infidels, the -Bolingbrokes, Middletons, and Mandevilles, Chubbs, Woolstons, and -Collinses, who prophesied that Christian faith was fast vanishing from -the earth, were slightly premature. It is, indeed, interesting to notice -the contrast in this period between England and the then most unhappy -sister-kingdom of France: there, indeed, Christian faith did seem to be -trodden underfoot of men. While a great silent, hallowed revolution was -going on in one, all things were preparing for a tremendous revolution -in the other. It was just about the time that the Revival was leavening -English society that Lord Chesterfield summed up what he had noticed in -France, in the following words: “In short, all the symptoms which I have -ever met with in history previous to great changes and revolutions in -government, now exist and daily increase in France.” The words were -spoken several years before that terrible Revolution came, which -conducted the King, the Queen, and almost all the aristocracy, -respectability, and lingering piety of the nation to the scaffold. It -was a wonderful compensation. A few years before, a sovereign had cast -away from his nation, and from around his throne, all the social -elements which could guard and give dignity to it; how natural, then, -that the whole _canaille_ of the kingdom should rush upon the throne of -his successor, and cast it and its occupant into the bonfire of the -Reign of Terror! - -In Britain, from some cause, all was different. This period of the -Revival has been truly called the starting-point of the modern religious -history of that land; and, somehow, all things were singularly combining -to give to the nation a new-born happiness, to create new facilities for -mental growth and culture, and to enlarge and to fill their cup of -national joy. It will be noticed that these things did not descend to -the nation generally from the highest places of the land. With the -exception of the sovereign, we cannot see many instances of a lively -interest in the moral well-being of the people. Other exceptions there -were, but they were very few. From the people themselves, and from the -causes we have described, originated and spread those means which, -amidst the wild agitations of revolution, as they came foaming over the -Channel, and which were rather aided than repressed by the unwisdom of -many of the governments and magistrates, calmed and enlightened the -public mind, and secured the order of society, and the stability of the -throne. - -The historians of Wesleyanism—we will say it respectfully, but still -very firmly—have been too uniformly disposed to see in their own society -the centre and the spring of all those amazing means of social -regeneration to which the period of the Revival gave birth. Dr. Abel -Stevens specially seems to regard Methodism and Wesleyanism as -conterminous. It would seem from him that the work of the -printing-office, the book or the tract society, schools and missions, -and the various means of social amelioration or redemption, all have -their origin in Wesleyanism. We may give the largest honour to the -venerable name of Wesley, and accept this history by Dr. Stevens as the -best, yet as an American he did not fully know what had been done by -others not in the Connexion. There was an immense field of Methodism -which did not fall beneath the dominion of Wesley, and had no relation -to the Wesleyan Conference. The same spirit touched simultaneously many -minds, quite separated by ecclesiastical and social relations, but all -wrought up to the same end. These pages have been greatly devoted to -reminiscences of the great preachers, and illustrations of the preaching -power of the Revival, but our readers know that the Revival did not end -in preaching. These voices stirred the slumbering mind of the nation -like a thunder-peal, but they roused to work and practical effort. The -great characteristic of all that came out of the movement may be summed -up in the often-quoted expression, “A single eye to the glory of God.” -As one of the clergymen of Yorkshire, earnest and active in those times, -was wont to say, “I do love those one-eyed Christians.” - -We shall have occasion to mention the name of Robert Raikes, and that -name reminds us not only of Gloucester, but of Gloucestershire; many -circumstances gave to that most charming county a conspicuous place. -Lying in the immediate neighbourhood of Bath, it attracted the attention -of the Countess of Huntingdon. “As sure as God is in Gloucestershire,” -was an old proverb, first used in monastic days, then applied to the -Reformation time, when Tyndale, the first translator of the English New -Testament, had his home in the lovely village of North Nibley; but it -became yet more true when Whitefield preached to the immense concourses -on Stinchcombe Hill; when Rodborough and Ebley, and the valley of the -Stroud Water were lit up with Revival beacons, and when Rowland Hill -established his vicarage at Wotton-under-Edge; then, in its immediate -neighbourhood, arose that beautiful Christian worker, the close friend -of George Whitefield, Cornelius Winter; and from his labours came forth -his most eminent pupil, and great preacher, William Jay. - -And the Revival took effect on distinct circles which certainly seemed -outside of the Methodist movement, but which yet, assuredly, belonged to -it; the Clapham Sect, for instance. “The Clapham Sect” is a designation -originating in the facetious and satiric brain of Sydney Smith, than -whom the Revival never had a more unjust, ungenerous, or ungracious -critic; but the pages of the _Edinburgh Review_, in which the flippant -sting of speech first appeared, years afterwards consecrated the term -and made it historical in the elegant essay of Sir James Stephen. By his -pen the sect, with all its leaders, acts, and consequences, are -pleasantly described in the _Essays on Ecclesiastical Biography_; and -surely this was as much the result of the Great Revival as the -“evangelical succession” which calls forth the exercise in previous -pages of the same interesting pen; it was all a natural evangelical -succession, that of which we have spoken before, as enthusiasm for -humanity growing out of enthusiasm for Divine truth. Men who have become -fairly impressed by a sense of their own immortality and its redemption -in Christ, become interested in the temporal well-being and the eternal -welfare of others. It has always been so, and is so still, that men who -have not a sense of man’s immortal welfare have usually cared but little -about his temporal interests. Hospitals and churches, orphanages and -missionary societies, usually grow out of the same spiritual root. - -We scarcely need ask our readers to accompany us to the pleasant little -village of Clapham, and its sweet sequestered Common, then so far -removed from the great metropolis; surrounded by the homes of wealthy -men, merchants, statesmen, eminent preachers, all of them infected with -the spirit of the Revival, and all of them noteworthy in the story of -those means which were to shiver the chains of the slave, to carry light -to dark heathen minds, and to hand out the Bible to English villages and -far-off nations. We have been desirous of conveying the impression that -those were times of a singular and almost simultaneous spiritual -upheaval; it was as if, in different regions of the great lake of -humanity, submerged islands suddenly appeared from beneath the waves; -and it is not too much to say that all those various means which have so -tended to beautify and bless the world, schemes of education, schemes -for the improvement of prison discipline, schemes of missionary -enterprise for the extension of Christian influence in the East Indies, -the destruction of slavery in the West Indies, and the abolition of the -slave trade throughout the British Empire; Bible societies and Tract -societies, and, in fact, the whole munificent machinery and organisation -of our day, sprang forth from that revival of the last century. It seems -now like a magnificent burst of enthusiasm; yet, ultimately it was based -upon only two or three great elements of faith: the spiritual world was -an intense reality; the soul of every man, woman, and child on the face -of the earth had an endowment of immortality; they were precious to the -Redeemer, they ought, therefore, to be precious to all the followers of -the Redeemer. Charged with these truths, their spirits inflamed to a -holy enthusiasm by them, from parlours and drawing-rooms, from the lowly -homes and cottages of England, all these new professors appeared to be -in search of occasions for doing good; the schemes worked themselves -through all the varieties of human temperament and imperfection; but, -looking back, it must surely be admitted that they achieved glorious -results. - -[Illustration: - - John Thornton. -] - -If the reader, impressed by veneration, should make a pilgrimage to -Clapham Common, and inquire from some one of the oldest inhabitants -which was the house in which John Shore, the great Lord Teignmouth, the -first President of the Bible Society, lived, his soul within him might -be a little vexed to be informed that yonder large building at the -extreme corner of the common, the great Roman Catholic Redemptionist -College, is the house. There, were canvassed and brooded over a number -of the schemes to which we have referred. Thither from his own house, -close to the well-known “Plough”—its site now covered by suburban -shops—went the great Zachary Macaulay, sometimes accompanied by his son, -a bright, intelligent lad, afterwards known as Thomas Babington -Macaulay. John Shore had been Governor of India, at Calcutta. On the -common resided also, for some time, William Wilberforce. These were the -great statesmen who were desirous of organising great plans, from which -the consummating prayer of David in the 72nd Psalm should be realised. -Then there was another house on the common, the mansion of John -Thornton, which seemed to share with that of Lord Teignmouth the honours -of these Divine committees of ways and means. Before the establishment -of the Bible Society, Mr. Thornton had been in the habit of spending two -thousand pounds a year in the distribution of Bibles and Testaments—a -very Bible Society in himself. It is, perhaps, not too much to say, -there was scarcely a thought which had for its object the well-being of -the human family but it found its representation and discussion in those -palatial abodes on Clapham Common. There were Granville Sharp and Thomas -Clarkson; thither, how often went cheery old John Newton, to whom, first -of all, on arriving in London, went every holy wayfarer from the -provinces, wayfarers who soon found their entrance beneath his -protecting wing, and cheery introduction to these pleasant circles. -Beneath the incentives of his animating words, the fervid earnestness of -Claudius Buchanan found its pathway of power, and _The Star of the -East_—his great sermon on “Missions to India,”—was first seen shining -over Clapham Common; and it was the same genial tongue which encouraged -that fine, but almost forgotten man, John Campbell, in the enterprise of -his spirit, to pierce into the deserts of Africa. We may notice how -great ideas perpetuate themselves into generations, when we remember -that it was John Campbell who first took out Robert Moffat, and settled -him down in the field of his wonderful labours. - -Sir James Stephen, in his admirable paper, is far from exhausting all -the memories of that Clapham Sect. There was another house, not in -Clapham, but not far removed—Hatcham House, as we remember it—a noble -mansion, standing in its park, opposite where the old lane turned off -from the main road to Peckham. There lived Joseph Hardcastle—certainly -one of the Clapham Sect—Wilberforce’s close and intimate friend, a -munificent merchant prince, in whose offices in the City were held for a -long time all the earliest committee meetings of the Bible Society, the -Religious Tract Society, and the London Missionary Society, and from -whom appear to have emanated the first suggestions for the limitation of -the powers of the East India Company in supporting and sanctioning, by -the English Government, Hindoo infanticide and idolatry. Among all the -glorious names of the Clapham Sect, not one shines out more beautifully -than that of this noble Christian gentleman. - -Perhaps a natural delicacy withheld Sir James Stephen from chronicling -the story of his own father, Sir George Stephen; and there was Thomas -Gisborne, most charming of English preachers of the Church of England -evangelical school; and Sir Robert Grant, whose hymns are still among -the sweetest in our national psalmody. But we can do no more than thus -say that it was from hence that the spirit of the Revival rose in new -strength, and taking to itself the wings of the morning, spread to the -uttermost parts of the earth. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER X - - THE REVIVAL BECOMES EDUCATIONAL.—ROBERT RAIKES. - - -In the year 1880 was celebrated in England and America the centenary of -Sunday-schools. The life and labours of Robert Raikes, whose name has -long been familiar as “a household word” in connection with such -institutions, were reviewed, and fresh interest added to that early work -for the young. - -[Illustration: - - ROBERT RAIKES AND HIS SCHOLARS. -] - -Gloucestershire, if not one of the largest, is certainly one of the -fairest—as, indeed, its name is said to imply: from _Glaw_, an old -British word signifying “fair”—it is one of the fairest, and it ought to -be one of the most famous, counties of England. Many are its -distinguished worthies: John de Trevisa was Vicar of Berkeley, in -Gloucestershire, and a contemporary with John Wyclif, and, like him, he -had a strong aversion to the practices of the Church of Rome, and an -earnest desire to make the Scriptures known to his parishioners; and in -Nibley, in Gloucestershire, was born, and lived, William Tyndale, in -whose noble heart the great idea sprang up that Christian Englishmen -should read the New Testament in their own mother-tongue, and who said -to a celebrated priest, “If God spares my life, I will take care that a -plough-boy shall know more of the Scriptures than you do.” The story of -the great translator and martyr is most interesting. Gloucestershire has -been famous, too, for its contributions to the noble army of martyrs, -notably, not only James Baynham, but, in Gloucester, its bishop, John -Hooper, was in 1555 burnt to death. In Berkeley the very distinguished -physician, and first promulgator of the doctrine of vaccination, Dr. -Edward Jenner, the son of the vicar, was born; and from the Old Bell, in -Gloucester, went forth the wonderful preacher George Whitefield, to -arouse the sleeping Church in England and America from its lethargy. The -quaint old proverb to which we have already alluded—“As sure as God is -in Gloucestershire”—was very complimentary, but not very correct; it -arose from the amazing ecclesiastical wealth of the county, which was so -rich that it attracted the notice of the papal court, and four Italian -bishops held it in succession for fifty years; one of these, Giulio de -Medici, became Pope Clement VII., succeeding Pope Leo X. in the papacy -in 1523. This eminent ecclesiastical fame no doubt originated the -proverb; but it acquired a tone of reality and truth rather from the -martyrdom of its bishop than from the elevation of his predecessor to -the papal tiara; rather from Tyndale, William Sarton, and his brother -weaver-martyrs, than from its costly and magnificent endowments; from -Whitefield and Jenner rather than from its crowd of priests and friars. - -Thus Gloucestershire has certainly considerable eminence among English -counties. To other distinguished names must be added that of Robert -Raikes, who must ever be regarded as the founder of Sabbath-schools. It -is not intended by this that there had never been any attempts made to -gather the children on the Sabbath for some kind of religious -instruction—although such attempts were very few, and a diligent search -has probably brought them all [?] under our knowledge; but the example -and the influence of Raikes gave to the idea the character of a -movement; it stirred the whole country, from the throne itself, the King -and Queen, the bishops, and the clergy; all classes of ministers and -laymen became interested in what was evidently an easy and happy method -of seizing upon the multitudes of lost children who in that day were -“perishing for lack of knowledge.” - -Mr. Joseph Stratford, in his _Biographical Sketches of the Great and -Good Men in Gloucestershire_, and Mr. Alfred Gregory, in his _Life of -Robert Raikes_—to which works we must confess our obligation for much of -the information contained in this chapter—have both done honour to the -several humbler and more obscure labourers whose hearts were moved to -attempt the work to which Raikes gave a national importance, and which -from his hands, and from his time, became henceforth a perpetual -institution in the Church work of every denomination of Christian -believers and labourers. The Rev. Joseph Alleine, the author of _The -Alarm to the Unconverted_, an eminent Nonconformist minister of Taunton, -adopted the plan of gathering the young people together for instruction -on the Lord’s day. Even in Gloucestershire, before Raikes was born, in -the village of Flaxley, on the borders of the Forest of Dean—Flaxley, of -which the poet Bloomfield sings: - - “’Mid depths of shade gay sunbeams broke - Through noble Flaxley’s bowers of oak; - Where many a cottage, trim and gay, - Whispered delight through all the way:” - -in the old Cistercian Abbey, Mrs. Catharine Boevey, the lady of the -abbey, had one of the earliest and pleasantest Sabbath-schools. Her -monument in Flaxley Church, erected after her death in 1726, records her -“clothing and feeding her indigent neighbours, and teaching their -children, some of whom she entertained at her house, and examined them -herself.” Six of the poor children, it is elsewhere stated, “by turns -dined at her residence on Sundays, and were afterwards heard say the -Catechism.” - -We read of a humbler labourer, realising, perhaps, more the idea of a -Sabbath-school teacher, in Bolton, in Lancashire, James Hey, or “Old -Jemmy o’ th’ Hey.” Old Jemmy, Mr. Gregory tells us, employed the working -days of the week in winding bobbins for weavers, and on Sundays he -taught the boys and girls of the neighbourhood to read. His school -assembled twice each Sunday, in the cottage of a neighbour, and the time -of commencing was announced, not by the ringing of a bell, but by an -excellent substitute, an old brass pestle and mortar. After a while, Mr. -Adam Compton, a paper manufacturer in the neighbourhood, began to supply -Jemmy with books, and subscriptions in money were given him; he was thus -enabled to form three branch establishments, the teachers of which were -paid one shilling each Sunday for their services. Besides these there -are several other instances: in 1763 the Rev. Theophilus Lindsey -established something like a Sunday-school at Catterick, in Yorkshire; -at High Wycombe, in 1769, Miss Hannah Ball, a young Methodist lady, -formed a Sunday-school in her town; and at Macclesfield that admirable -and excellent man, the Rev. David Simpson, originated a similar plan of -usefulness; and, contemporary with Mr. Raikes, in the old Whitefield -Tabernacle, at Dursley, in Gloucestershire, we find Mr. William King, a -woollen card-maker, attempting the work of teaching on a Sunday, and -coming into Gloucester to take counsel with Mr. Raikes as to the best -way of carrying it forward. Such, scattered over the face of the -country, at great distances, and in no way representing a general plan -of useful labour, were the hints and efforts before the idea took what -may be called an apostolic shape in the person of Robert Raikes. - -Notwithstanding the instances we have given, Mr. Raikes must really be -regarded as the founder of Sunday-schools as an extended organisation. -With him they became more than a notion, or a mere piece of local -effort; and his position and profession, and the high respect in which -he was held in the city in which he lived, all alike enabled him to give -publicity to the plan: and before he commenced this movement, he was -known as a philanthropist; indeed, John Howard himself bears something -like the same relation to prison philanthropy which Raikes bears to -Sunday-schools. No one doubts that Howard was the great apostle of -prisons; but it seems that before he commenced his great prison crusade, -Raikes had laboured diligently to reform the Gloucester gaol. The -condition of the prisoners was most pitiable, and Raikes, nearly twenty -years before he commenced the Sunday-school system, had been working -among them, attempting their material, moral, and spiritual improvement, -by which he had earned for himself the designation of the “Teacher of -the Poor.” Howard visited Raikes in Gloucester, and bears his testimony -to the blessedness and benevolence of his labours in the prison there; -and the gaol appears not unnaturally to have suggested the idea of the -Sunday-school to the benevolent-hearted man. It was a dreadful state of -society. Some idea may be formed of it from a paragraph in the -_Gloucester Journal_ for June, 1783, the paper of which Raikes was the -editor and proprietor: it is mentioned that no less than sixty-six -persons were committed to the Castle in one week, and Mr. Raikes adds, -“The prison is already so full that all the gaoler’s stock of fetters is -occupied, and the smiths are hard at work casting new ones.” He goes on -to say: “The people sent in are neither disappointed soldiers nor -sailors, but chiefly frequenters of ale-houses and skittle-alleys.” -Then, in another paragraph, he goes on to remark, “The ships about to -sail for Botany Bay will carry about one thousand miserable creatures, -who might have lived perfectly happy in this country had they been early -taught good principles, and to avoid the danger of associating with -those who make sobriety and industry the objects of their ridicule.” - -From sentences like these it is easy to see the direction in which the -mind of the good man was moving, before he commenced the work which has -given such a happy and abiding perpetuity to his name. He gathered the -children; the streets were full of noise and disturbances every Sunday. -In a little while, says the Rev. Dr. Glass, Mr. Raikes found himself -surrounded by such a set of little ragamuffins as would have disgusted -other men less zealous to do good, and less earnest to disseminate -comfort, exhortation, and benefit to all around him, than the founder of -Sunday-schools. He prevented their running about in wild disorder -through the streets. By and by, he arranged that a number of them should -meet him at seven o’clock on the Sunday morning in the cathedral close, -when he and they all went into the cathedral together to an early -service. The increase of the numbers was rapid; Mr. Raikes was looked up -to as the commander-in-chief of this ragged regiment. It is testified -that a change took place and passed over the streets of the old -Gloucester city on the Sunday. A glance at the features of Mr. Raikes -will assure the reader that he was an amiable and gentle man, but that -by no means implies always a weak one. He appears to have had plenty of -strength, self-possession, and knowledge of the world. He also belonged -to, and moved in, good society; and this is not without its influence. -As he told the King, in the course of a long interview, when the King -and Queen sent for him to Windsor, to talk over his system with him, in -order that they might, in some sense, be his disciples, and adopt and -recommend his plan: it was “botanising in human nature.” “All that I -require,” said Raikes, to the parents of the children, “are clean hands, -clean faces, and their hair combed.” To many who were barefooted, after -they had shown some regularity of attendance, he gave shoes, and others -he clothed. Yes, it was “botanising in human nature;” and very many -anecdotes show what flowers sprang up out of the black soil in the path -of the good man. - -All the stories told of Raikes show that the law of kindness was usually -on his lips. A sulky, stubborn girl had resisted all reproofs and -correction, and had refused to ask forgiveness of her mother. In the -presence of the mother, Raikes said to the girl, “Well, if you have no -regard for yourself, I have much for you. You will be ruined and lost if -you do not become a good girl; and if you will not humble yourself, I -must humble myself on your behalf and make a beginning for you;” and -then, with great solemnity, he entreated the mother to forgive the girl, -using such words that he overcame the girl’s pride. The stubborn -creature actually fell on her knees, and begged her mother’s -forgiveness, and never gave Mr. Raikes or her mother trouble afterwards. -It is a very simple anecdote; but it shows the Divine spirit in the -method of the man; and the more closely we come into a personal -knowledge of his character, the more admirable and lovable it seems. -Thus literally true and beautiful are the words of the hymn: - - “Like a lone husbandman, forlorn, - The man of Gloucester went, - Bearing his seeds of precious corn; - And God the blessing sent. - - Now, watered long by faith and prayer, - From year to year it grows, - Till heath, and hill, and desert bare, - Do blossom as the rose.” - -Mr. Raikes was a Churchman; he was so happy as to have, near to his own -parish of St. Mary-le-Crypt, in Gloucester, an intimate friend, the -Rector of St. Aldate’s—a neighbouring parish in the same city—the Rev. -Thomas Stock, whose monument in the church truly testifies that “to him, -in conjunction with Robert Raikes, Esquire, is justly attributed the -honour of having planned and instituted the first Sunday-school in the -kingdom.” Mr. Stock was but a young man in 1780, for he died in 1803, -then only fifty-four years of age; he must have been, at the time of the -first institution of Sunday-schools, a young man of fine and tender -instincts. He appears, simultaneously with Mr. Raikes’s movement, to -have formed a Sunday-school in his own parish, taking upon himself the -superintendence of it, and the responsibility of such expenses as it -involved. But Mr. Stock says, in a letter written in 1788, “The progress -of the institution through the kingdom is justly attributed to the -constant representations which Mr. Raikes made in his own paper of the -benefits which he saw would probably arise from it.” At the time Mr. -Raikes began the work, he was about forty-four years of age; it was a -great thing in that day to possess a respectable journal, a newspaper of -acknowledged character and influence; to this, very likely, we owe it, -in some considerable measure, that the work in Gloucester became -extensively known and spread, and expanded into a great movement. But he -does not appear to have used the columns of his newspaper for the -purpose of calling attention to the usefulness and desirability of the -work until after it had been in operation about three years; in 1783 and -1784, very modestly he commends the system to general adoption. - -[Illustration: - - Robert Raikes. -] - -It is remarkable that in the course of two or three years, several -bishops—the Bishop of Gloucester, in the cathedral, the Bishops of -Chester and Salisbury, in their charges to the clergy of their -dioceses—strongly commended the plan. All orders of mind poured around -the movement their commendation; even Adam Smith, whom no one will think -likely to have fallen into exaggerated expressions where Christian -activity is concerned, said, “No plan has promised to effect a change of -manners with equal ease and simplicity, since the days of the apostles.” -The poet Cowper declared that he knew of no nobler means by which a -reformation of the lower classes could be effected. Some attempts have -been made to claim for John Wesley the honour of inaugurating the -Sunday-school system; considering the intensely practical character of -that venerated man, and how much he was in advance of his times in most -of his activities, it is a wonder that he did not; but his venerable -memory has honours, certainly, in all sufficiency. He wrote his first -commendation of Sunday-schools in the _Arminian Magazine_ of 1784. He -says, “I find these schools spring up wherever I go; perhaps God may -have a deeper end therein than men are aware of; who knows but that some -of these schools may become nurseries for Christians?” Prophetic as -these words are, this is fainter and tardier praise than we should have -expected from him; but in 1787 he writes more warmly, expresses his -belief that these schools will be one great means of reviving religion -throughout the kingdom, and expresses “wonder that Satan has not sent -out some able champion against them.” In 1788 he says: “I verily think -that these schools are one of the noblest specimens of charity which -have been set on foot in England since the days of William the -Conqueror.” - -Some estimate may be formed of the rapidity with which the movement -spread, when we find that in this year, 1787, the number of children -taught in Sunday-schools in Manchester alone, on the testimony of the -very eminent John Nichols, the great printer and anecdotist, was no -fewer than five thousand. It was in this year also, 1787, that Mr. -Raikes was visiting some relatives in the neighbourhood of Windsor. He -must have attained to the dignity of a celebrity; nor is this wonderful, -when we remember the universal acceptance with which his great idea of -Sunday-schools had been honoured. The Queen invited him to visit her, -and inquired of him, he says, “by what accident a thought which promised -so much benefit to the lower order of people as the institution of -Sunday-schools, was suggested to his mind?” The visit was a long one; he -spent two hours with the Queen—the King also, we believe, being present -most of the time—not so much in expounding the system, for that was -simple enough, but they were curious as to what he had observed in the -change and improvement of the characters among whom he worked; and we -believe that it was then he told the King, in the words we have already -quoted, that he regarded his work as a kind of “botanising in human -nature;” this was a favourite phrase of his in describing the work. The -result of this visit was, that the Queen established a Sunday-school in -Windsor, and also a school of industry at Brentford, which the King and -Queen occasionally visited. It may be taken as an illustration of the -native modesty of Mr. Raikes’s own character that he never referred in -his paper to this distinguished notice of royalty. - -Do our readers know anything of Mrs. Sarah Trimmer? A hundred years ago, -there was, probably, not a better-known woman in England; and although -her works have long ceased to exercise any influence, we suppose none, -in her time, were more eminently useful. Pious, devoted, earnestly -evangelical, if we speak of her as a kind of lesser Hannah More, the -remark must apply to her intellectual character rather than to her -reputation or her usefulness. Almost as soon as the Sunday-school idea -was announced, she stepped forward as its most able and intrepid -advocate; her _Economy of Charity_ exercised a large influence, and she -published a number of books, which, at that time, were admirably suited -to the level of the capacity which the Sunday-school teacher desired to -reach; she was also a great favourite with the King and Queen, and -appears to have visited them on the easy terms of friendship. The -intense interest she felt in Sunday-schools is manifest in innumerable -pages of the two volumes which record her life; certainly, she was often -at the ear of the royal pair, to whisper any good and pleasant thing -connected with the progress of her favourite thought. She repeatedly -expresses her obligation to Mr. Raikes; but her biographer only -expresses the simple truth when he says: “To Mr. Raikes, of Gloucester, -the nation is, in the first place, indebted for the happy idea of -collecting the children of the poor together on the Sabbath, and giving -them instruction suited to the sacredness of the day; but, perhaps, no -publication on this subject was of more utility than the _Economy of -Charity_. The influence of the work was very visible when it first made -its appearance, and proved a source of unspeakable gratification to the -author.” - -It is not consistent with the aim of this book to enter at greater -length into the life of Robert Raikes; we have said sufficient to show -that the term which has been applied to him of “founder of -Sunday-schools,” is not misapplied. He was a simple and good man, on -whose heart, as into a fruitful soil, an idea fell, and it became a -realised conviction. Look at his portrait, and instantly there comes to -your mind Cowper’s well-known description of one of his friends, - - “An honest man, close-buttoned to the chin, - Broadcloth without, and a warm heart within.” - -No words can better describe him—not a tint of fanaticism seems to shade -his character; he had a warm enthusiasm for ends and aims which -commended themselves to his judgment. It is pleasant to know that, as he -lived when the agitation for the abolition of the slave trade was -commencing, he gave to the movement his hearty blessings and best -wishes. At sixty-seven years of age he retired from business; no doubt a -very well-to-do man, for he was the owner of two freehold estates near -Gloucester, and he received an annuity of three hundred pounds from the -_Gloucester Journal_. He died at his house in Bell Lane, in the city of -Gloucester, where he had taken up his residence when he retired from -active life; he died suddenly, in his seventy-sixth year, in 1811. Then -the family vault in St. Mary-le-Crypt, which sixty years before had -received his father’s ashes, received the body of the gentle -philanthropist. He had kept up his Sunday-school work and interest to -the close; and he left instructions that his Sunday-school children -should be invited to follow him to the grave, and that each of them -should receive a shilling and a plum cake. On the tablet over the place -where he sleeps an appropriate verse of Scripture well describes him: -“When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it -gave witness to me: because I delivered the poor that cried, and the -fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that -was ready to perish came upon me: and I caused the widow’s heart to sing -for joy.” - -It seems very questionable whether the slightest shade can cross the -memory of this plain, simply useful, and unostentatious man. And it -ought to be said that Anne Raikes, who rests in the same grave, appears -to have been every way the worthy companion of her husband. She was the -daughter of Thomas Trigg, Esq., of Newnham, in Gloucestershire; the -sister of Sir Thomas Trigg and Admiral John Trigg. They were married in -1767. She shared in all her husband’s large and charitable intentions, -and when he died he left the whole of his property to her. She survived -him seventeen years, and died in 1828, at the age of eighty-five. - -[Illustration: - - RAIKES’S HOUSE, GLOUCESTER. -] - -The visitor to Gloucester will be surely struck by a quaint old house in -Southgate Street—still standing almost unaltered, save that the basement -is now divided into two shops. A few years since the old oak timbers -were braced, stained, and varnished. It is a fine specimen of the better -class of English residences of a hundred and fifty years since, and is -still remarkable in the old city, owing very much to the good taste -which governed their renovation. This was the printing-office of Robert -Raikes, a notice in the _Gloucester Journal_, dated August 19, 1758, -announcing his removal from Blackfriars Square to this house in -Southgate Street. The house now is in the occupation of Mrs. Watson. The -house where Raikes lived and died is nearly opposite. It will not be -difficult for the spectator to realise the pleasant image of the old -gentleman, dressed, after the fashion of the day, in his blue coat with -gold buttons, buff waistcoat, drab kerseymere breeches, white stockings, -and low shoes, passing beneath those ancient gables, and engaged in -those various public and private duties which we have attempted to -record. A century has passed away since then, and the simple lessons the -philanthropist attempted to impart to the young waifs and strays he -gathered about him have expanded into more comprehensive departments of -knowledge. The originator of Sunday-schools would be astonished were he -to step into almost any of those which have branched out from his -leading idea. It is still expanding; it is one of the most real and -intense activities of the Universal Church; but among the immense crowds -of those who, in England and America, are conducting Sunday-school -classes, it is, perhaps, not too much to say, that in not one is there a -more simple and earnest desire to do good than that which illuminated -the life, and lends a sweet and charming interest to the memory, of -Robert Raikes. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - THE ROMANTIC STORY OF SILAS TOLD. - - -Dr. Abel Stevens, in his _History of Methodism_, says, “I congratulate -myself on the opportunity of reviving the memory of Silas Told;” and -speaks of the little biography in which Silas himself records his -adventures as “a record told with frank and affecting simplicity, in a -style of terse and flowing English Defoe might have envied.” - -Such a testimony is well calculated to excite the curiosity of an -interested reader, especially as the two or three incidents mentioned -only serve to whet the appetite for more of the like description. The -little volume to which he refers has been for some years in the -possession of the author of this volume. It is indeed an astonishing -book; its alleged likeness to Defoe’s charmingly various style of -recital of adventures by sea and by land is no exaggeration, whilst as a -piece of real biography it may claim, and quite sustain, a place side by -side with the romantic and adventurous career of John Newton; but the -wild wonderfulness of the story of Silas seems to leave Newton’s in the -shade. Like Newton, Told was also a seer of visions and a dreamer of -dreams, and a believer, in special providences; and well might he -believe in such who was led certainly along as singular a path as any -mortal could tread. The only other memorial besides his own which has, -we believe, been penned of him—a brief recapitulations-well describes -him as honest, simple, and tender. Silas Told accompanied, in that awful -day, numbers of persons to the gallows, and attempted to console -sufferers and victims in circumstances of most harrowing and tragic -solemnity: he certainly furnished comfortable help and light when no -others were willing or able to sympathise or to help. John Wesley loved -him, and when Silas died he buried him, and says of him in his -_Journal_: “On the 20th of December, 1778, I buried what was mortal of -honest Silas Told. For many years he attended the malefactors in Newgate -without fee or reward; and I suppose no man, for this hundred years, has -been so successful in that melancholy office. God had given him peculiar -talents for it, and he had amazing success therein; the greatest part of -those whom he attended died in peace, and many of them in the triumph of -faith.” Such was Silas Told. - -But before we come to those characteristic circumstances to which Wesley -refers, we must follow him through some of the wild scenes of his sailor -life. He was born in Bristol in 1711; his parents were respectable and -creditable people, but of somewhat faded families. His grandfather had -been an eminent physician in Bunhill Row, London; his mother was from -Exeter. * * * - -Silas was educated in the noble foundation school of Edward Colston in -Bristol. The life of this excellent philanthropist was so remarkable, -and in many particulars so like his own, that we cannot wonder that he -stops for some pages in his early story to recite some of the remarkable -phenomena in Colston’s life. Silas’s childhood was singular, and the -stories he tells are especially noticeable, because in after-life the -turn of his character seems to have been especially real and practical. -Thus he tells how, when a child, wandering with his sister in the King’s -Wood, near Bristol, they lost their way, and were filled with the utmost -consternation, when suddenly, although no house was in view, nor, as -they thought, near, a dog came up behind them, and drove them clear out -of the wood into a path with which they were acquainted; especially it -was remarkable that the dog never barked at them, but when they looked -round about for the dog he was nowhere to be seen. Careless children out -for their own pleasure, they sauntered on their way again, and again -lost their way in the wood—were again bewildered, and in greater -perplexity than before, when, on a sudden looking up, they saw the same -dog making towards them; they ran from him in fright, but he followed -them, drove them out of the labyrinths, and did not leave them until -they could not possibly lose their way again. Simple Silas says, “I then -turned about to look for the dog, but saw no more of him, although we -were now upon an open common. This was the Lord’s doings, and marvellous -in our eyes.” - -When he was twelve years of age, he appears to have been quite -singularly influenced by the reading of the _Pilgrim’s Progress_; and -late in life, when writing his biography, he briefly, but significantly, -attempts to reproduce the intense enjoyment he received—the book -evidently caught and coloured his whole imagination. At this time, too, -he was very nearly drowned, and while drowning, so far from having any -sense of terror, he had no sense nor idea of the things of this world, -but that it appeared to him he rushingly emerged out of thick darkness -into what appeared to him a glorious city, lustrous and brilliant, the -light of which seemed to illuminate the darkness through which he had -urged his way. It was as if the city had a floor like glass, and yet he -was sure that neither city nor floor had any substance; also he saw -people there; the inhabitants arrayed in robes of what seemed the finest -substance, but flowing from their necks to their feet; and yet he was -sensible too that they had no material substance; they moved, but did -not labour as in walking, but glided as if carried along by the wind; -and he testifies how he felt a wonderful joy and peace, and he never -forgot the impression through life, although soon recalled to the world -in which he was to sorrow and suffer so much. It is quite easy to see -John Bunyan in all this; but while he was thus pleasantly happy in his -visionary or intro-visionary state, a benevolent and tender-hearted -Dutchman, who had been among some haymakers in a field on the banks of -the river, was striking out after him among the willow-bushes and sedges -of the stream, from whence he was brought, body and soul, back to the -world again. Such are the glimpses of the childhood of Silas. - -Then shortly comes a dismal transition from strange providences in the -wood, and enchanting visions beneath the waves, to the singularly severe -sufferings of a seafaring life. The ships in that day have left a grim -and ugly reputation surviving still. The term “sea-devil” has often been -used as descriptive of the masters of ships in that time. Silas seems to -have sailed under some of the worst specimens of this order. About the -age of fourteen he was bound apprentice to Captain Moses Lilly, and -started for his first voyage from Bristol to Jamaica. “Here,” he says, -“I may date my first sufferings.” He says the first of his afflictions -“was sea-sickness, which held me till my arrival in Jamaica;” and -considering that it was a voyage of fourteen weeks, it was a fair spell -of entertainment from that pleasant companion. They were short of water, -they were put on short allowance of food, and when having obtained their -freight, while lying in Kingston harbour, their vessel, and seventy-six -sail of ships, many of them very large, but all riding with three -anchors ahead, were all scattered by an astonishing hurricane, and all -the vessels in Port Royal shared the same fate. He tells how the corpses -of the drowned sailors strewed the shores, and how, immediately after -the subsidence of the hurricane, a pestilential sickness swept away -thousands of the natives. “Every morning,” he says, “I have observed -between thirty and forty corpses carried past my window; being very near -death myself, I expected every day to approach with the messenger of my -dissolution.” - -During this time he appears to have been lying in a warehouse, with no -person to take care of him except a negro, who every day brought to him, -where he was laid in his hammock, Jesuit’s bark. - -“At length,” he says, “my master gave me up, and I wandered up and down -the town, almost parched with the insufferable blaze of the sun, till I -resolved to lay me down and die, as I had neither money nor friend; -accordingly, I fixed upon a dunghill in the east end of the town of -Kingston, and being in such a weak condition, I pondered much upon Job’s -case, and considered mine similar to that of his; however, I was fully -resigned to death, nor had I the slightest expectation of relief from -any quarter; yet the kind providence of God was over me, and raised me -up a friend in an entire stranger. A London captain coming by was struck -with the sordid object, came up to me, and, in a very compassionate -manner, asked me if I was sensible of any friend upon the island from -whom I could obtain relief; he likewise asked me to whom I belonged. I -answered, to Captain Moses Lilly, and had been cast away in the late -hurricane. This captain appeared to have some knowledge of my master, -and, cursing him for a barbarous villain, told me he would compel him to -take proper care of me. About a quarter of an hour after this, my master -arrived, whom I had not seen before for six weeks, and took me to a -public-house kept by, a Mrs. Hutchinson, and there ordered me to be -taken proper care of. However, he soon quitted the island, and directed -his course for England, leaving me behind at his sick quarters; and, if -it should please God to permit my recovery, I was commanded to take my -passage to England in the _Montserrat_, Captain David Jones, a very -fatherly, tender-hearted man: this was the first alleviation of my -misery. Now the captain sent his son on shore, in order to receive me on -board. When I came alongside, Captain Jones, standing on the ship’s -gunwale, addressed me after a very humane and compassionate manner, with -expressions to the following effect: ‘Come, poor child, into the cabin, -and you shall want nothing that the ship affords; go, and my son shall -prepare for you, in the first place, a basin of good egg-flip, and -anything else that maybe conducive to your relief.’ But I, being very -bad with my fever and ague, could neither eat nor drink.” - -A very pleasant captain, this seems, to have sailed with; but poor Silas -had very little of his company. However, the good captain and his -boatswain put their experiences together, and the poor boy was restored -to health, and after some singular adventures he reached Bristol. -Arriving there, however, Captain Lilly transferred him to a Captain -Timothy Tucker, of whom Silas bears the pleasing testimony, “A greater -villain, I firmly believe, never existed, although at home he assumed -the character and temper of a saint.” The wretch actually stole a white -woman from her own country to sell her to the black prince of Bonny, on -the African coast. They had not been long at sea before this delightful -person gave Silas a taste of his temper. Thinking the boy had taken too -much bread from the cask, he went to the cabin and brought back with him -his large horsewhip, “and exercised it,” says Silas, “about my body in -so unmerciful a manner, that not only the clothes on my back were cut to -pieces, but every sailor declared they could see my bones; and then he -threw me all along the deck, and jumped many times upon the pit of my -stomach, in order to endanger my life; and had not the people laid hold -of my two legs, and thrown me under the windlass, after the manner they -throw dead cats or dogs, he would have ended his despotic cruelty in -murder.” This free and easy mode of recreation was much indulged in by -seafaring officers in that time, but this Tucker appears to have been -really what Silas calls him, “a blood-thirsty devil;” and stories of -murder, and the incredible cruelties of the slave-trade lend their -horrible fascination to the narrative of Silas Told. How would it be -possible to work the commerce of the slave-trade without such characters -as this Tucker, who presents much more the appearance of a lawless -pirate than of the noble character we call a sailor? - -Those readers who would like to follow poor Silas through the entire -details of his miseries on ship-board, his hairbreadth escapes from -peril and shipwreck, must read them in Silas’s own book, if they can -find it; but we may attempt to give some little account of his wreck -upon the American coast, in New England. Few stories can be more -charming than the picture he gives of his wanderings with his companions -after their escape from the wreck, not because he and they were -destitute, and all but naked, but because of the pleasant glimpses we -have of the simple, hospitable, home life in those beautiful old New -England days—hospitality of the most romantic and free-handed -description. - -We will select two pictures, as illustrating something of the character -of New England settlements in those very early days of their history. -Silas and his companions were cast on shore, and had found refuge in a -tavern seven miles from the beach; he had no clothing; but the landlord -of the tavern gave him a pair of red breeches, the last he had after -supplying the rest. Silas goes on: “Ebenezer Allen, Governor of the -island, and who dwelt about six miles from the tavern, hearing of our -distress, made all possible haste to relieve us; and when he arrived at -the tavern, accompanied by his two eldest sons, he took Captain Seaborn, -his black servant, Joseph and myself through partiality, and escorted us -home to his own house. Between eleven and twelve at night we reached the -Governor’s mansion, all of us ashamed to be seen; we would fain have hid -ourselves in any dark hole or corner, as it was a truly magnificent -building, with wings on each side thereof, but, to our astonishment, we -were received into the great parlour, where were sitting by the fireside -two fine, portly ladies, attending the spit, which was burdened with a -very heavy quarter of house-lamb. Observing a large mahogany table to be -spread with a fine damask cloth, and every knife, fork, and plate to be -laid in a genteel mode, I was apprehensive that it was intended for the -entertainment of some persons of note or distinction, or, at least, for -a family supper. In a short time the joint was taken up, and laid on the -table, yet nobody sat down to eat; and as we were almost hid in one -corner of the room, the ladies turned round and said, ‘Poor men, why -don’t you come to supper?’ I replied, ‘Madam, we had no idea it was -prepared for us.’ The ladies then entreated us to eat without any fear -of them, assuring us that it was prepared for none others; and none of -us having eaten anything for near six and thirty hours before, we picked -the bones of the whole quarter, to which we had plenty of rich old cider -to drink: after supper we went to bed, and enjoyed so profound a sleep -that the next morning it was difficult for the old gentleman to awake -us. The following day I became the partaker of several second-hand -garments, and, as I was happily possessed of a little learning, it -caused me to be more abundantly caressed by the whole family, and -therefore I fared sumptuously every day. - -“This unexpected change of circumstances and diet I undoubtedly -experienced in a very uncommon manner; but as I was strictly trained up -a Churchman, I could not support the idea of a Dissenter, although, God -knows, I had well-nigh by this time dissented from all that is truly -good. This proved a bar to my promotion, and my strong propensity to -sail for England to see my mother prevented my acceptance of the -greatest offer I ever received in my life before; for when the day came -that we were to quit the island, and to cross the sound over to a town -called Sandwich, on the main continent, the young esquire took me apart -from my associates, and earnestly entreated me to tarry with them, -saying that if I would accede to their proposals nothing should be -lacking to render my situation equivalent to the rest of the family. As -there were very few white men on the island, I was fixed upon, if -willing, to espouse one of the Governor’s daughters. I had been informed -that the Governor was immensely rich, having on the island two thousand -head of cattle and twenty thousand sheep, and every acre of land thereon -belonging to himself. However, I could not be prevailed upon to accept -the offer; therefore the Governor furnished us with forty shillings -each, and gave us a pass over to the town of Sandwich.” - -Such passages as this show the severe experiences through which Silas -passed; they illustrate the education he was receiving for that life of -singular earnestness and tenderness which was to close and crown his -career; but we have made the extract here for the purpose of giving some -idea of that cheerful, hospitable, home life of New England in those -then almost wild regions which are now covered with the population of -towns. - -Here is another instance, which occurred at Hanover, in the United -States, through which district Silas and his companions appear to have -been wending their way, seeking a return to England. “One Sunday, as my -companions and self were crossing the churchyard at the time of Divine -service, a well-dressed gentleman came out of the church and said, -‘Gentlemen, we do not suffer any person in this country to travel on the -Lord’s day.’ We gave him to understand that it was necessity which -constrained us to walk that way, as we had all been shipwrecked on St. -Martin’s [Martha’s (?)] Vineyard, and were journeying to Boston. The -gentleman was still dissatisfied, but quitted our company and went into -church. When we had gone a little farther, a large white house proved -the object of our attention. The door being wide open, we reasonably -imagined it was not in an unguarded state, without servants or others; -but as we all went into the kitchen, nobody appeared to be within, nor -was there an individual either above or below. However, I advised my -companions to tarry in the house until some person or other should -arrive. They did so, and in a short time afterwards two ladies, richly -dressed, with a footman following them, came in through the kitchen; -and, notwithstanding they turned round and saw us, who in so dirty and -disagreeable a garb and appearance might have terrified them -exceedingly, yet neither of them was observed to take any notice of us, -nor did either of them ask us any questions touching the cause of so -great an intrusion. - -“About a quarter of an hour afterwards, a footman entered the kitchen -with a cloth and a large two-quart silver tankard full of rich cider, -also a loaf and cheese; but we, not knowing it was prepared for us, did -not attempt to partake thereof. At length the ladies coming into the -kitchen, and viewing us in our former position, desired to know the -reason of our malady, seeing we were not refreshing ourselves; whereupon -I urged the others to join with me in the acceptance of so hospitable a -proposal. After this the ladies commenced a similar inquiry into our -situation. I gave them as particular an account of every recent -vicissitude that befell us as I was capable of, with a genuine, relation -of our being shipwrecked, and the sole reasons of our travelling into -that country; likewise begged that they would excuse our impertinence, -as they were already informed of the cause; we were then emboldened to -ask the ladies if they could furnish us with a lodging that evening. -They replied it was uncertain whether our wishes could be accomplished -there, but that if we proceeded somewhat farther we should doubtless be -entertained and genteelly accommodated by their brother—a Quaker—whose -house was not more than a distance of seven miles. We thanked the -ladies, and set forward, and at about eight o’clock arrived at their -brother’s house. Fatigued with our journey, we hastened into the parlour -and delivered our message; whereupon a gentleman gave us to understand, -by his free and liberal conduct, that he was the Quaker referred to by -the aforesaid ladies, who, total strangers as we were, used us with a -degree of hospitality impossible to be exceeded; indeed, I could venture -to say that the accommodations we met with at the Quaker’s house, seeing -they were imparted to us with such affectionate sympathy, greatly -outweighed those we formerly experienced. - -“After our banquet, the gentleman took us up into a fine spacious -bed-chamber, with desirable bedding and very costly chintz curtains. We -enjoyed a sound night’s rest, and arose between seven and eight the next -morning, and were entertained with a good breakfast; returned many -thanks for the unrestrained friendship and liberality, and departed -therefrom, fully purposed to direct our course for Boston, which was not -more than seven miles farther. Here all the land was strewed with -plenty, the orchards were replete with apple-trees and pears; they had -cider-presses in the centre of their orchards, and great quantities of -fine cider, and any person might become a partaker thereof for the mere -trouble of asking. We soon entered Boston, a commodious, beautiful city, -with seventeen spired meetings, the dissenting religion being then -established in that part of the world. I resided here for the space of -four months, and lodged with Captain Seaborn at Deacon Townshend’s; -deacon of the North Meeting, and by trade a blacksmith.” He gives a -glowing and beautiful description of the high moral and religious -character of Boston; here also he met with a stroke of good fortune in -receiving some arrears of salvage for a vessel he had assisted in saving -before his last wreck. Such are specimens of the interest and -entertainment afforded in the earlier parts of this pleasant piece of -autobiography. But we must hasten past his adventures, both in the -island of Antigua and among the islands of the Mediterranean. - -It is not wonderful that the great sufferings and toils of Silas should, -even at a very early period of life, prostrate his health, and subject -him to repeated vehement attacks of illness. He was but twenty-three -when he married; still, however, a sailor, and destined yet for some -wild experiences on the seas. Not long, however. A married life disposed -him for a home life, and he accepted, while still a very young man, the -position of a schoolmaster, beneath the patronage of a Lady Luther, in -the county of Essex. He was not in this position very long. Silas, -although an unconverted man, must have had strong religious feelings; -and the clergyman of the parish, fond of smoking and drinking with -him—and it may well be conceived what an entertaining companion Silas -must have been in those days, with his budget of adventures—ridiculed -him for his faith in the Scriptures and his belief in Bible theology. -This so shocked Silas, that, making no special profession of religion, -he yet separated himself from the clergyman’s company, and shortly after -he left that neighbourhood, and again sought his fortune, but without -any very cheerful prospects, in London. - -It was in 1740 that a young blacksmith introduced him to the people whom -he had hitherto hated and despised—the Methodists. He heard John Wesley -preach at the Foundry in the Moor Fields from the text, “I write unto -you, little children, for your sins are forgiven you.” This set his soul -on fire; he became a Methodist, notwithstanding the very vehement -opposition of his wife, to whom he appears to have been very tenderly -attached, and who herself was a very motherly and virtuous woman, but -altogether indisposed to the new notions, as many people considered -them. He improved in circumstances, and became a responsible managing -clerk on a wharf at Wapping. While there Mr. Wesley repeatedly and -earnestly pressed him to take charge of the charity school he had -established at the Foundry. After long hesitation he did so; and it was -here that while attending a service at five o’clock in the morning, he -heard Mr. Wesley preach from the text, “I was sick, and in prison, and -ye visited me not.” By a most remarkable application of this charge to -himself, Silas testifies that his mind was stirred with a strange -compunction, as he thought that he had never cared for, or attempted to -ameliorate the condition, or to minister to the souls of the crowds of -those unhappy malefactors who then almost weekly expiated their -offences, very often of the most trivial description, on the gallows. It -seems that the hearing that sermon proved to be a most remarkable -turning-point in the life of Silas. Through it he became most eminently -useful during a very remarkable and painful career; and his after-life -is surrounded by such a succession of romantic incidents that they at -once equal, if they do not transcend, and strangely contrast with his -wild adventures on the seas. - -And here we may pause a moment to reflect how every man’s work derives -its character from what he was before. What thousands of sailors, in -that day, passed through all the trials which Silas passed, leaving them -still only rough sailor men! In him all the roughness seemed only to -strike down to depths of wonderful compassion and tenderness. Singular -was the university in which he graduated to become so great and powerful -a preacher! How he preached we do not know, but his words must have been -warm and touching, faithful and loving, judging from their results; and -as to his pulpit, we do not hear that it was in chapels or churches—his -audience was very much confined to the condemned cell, and to the cart -from whence the poor victims were “turned off,” as it was called in -those days. In this work he found his singular niche. How long it often -takes for a man to find his place in the work that is given him to do; -and when the place is found, sometimes, how long it takes to fit nicely -and admirably into the work itself! what sharp angles have, to be rubbed -away, what difficulties to be overcome! It is wonderful, with all the -horrible experiences through which this man had passed, and spectacles -of cruelty so revolting that they seem almost to shake our faith, not -merely in man, but even in a just and overruling God, that every -sentiment of religion and tenderness had not been eradicated from his -nature; but it would appear that the old gracious influences of -childhood—the days of the _Pilgrim’s Progress_, and the wonderful vision -when drowning beneath the waters, had never been effaced through all his -strange and chequered career, although certainly not untainted by the -sins of the ordinary sailor’s life. The work in which he was now to be -engaged needed a very tender and affectionate nature; but ordinary -tenderness starts back and is repelled by cruel and repulsive scenes. -Told’s education on the seas, like that of a surgeon in a hospital, -enabled him to look on harrowing sights of suffering without wincing, or -losing in his tender interest his own self-possession. - -It ought not to be forgotten that John Howard, the great prison -philanthropist, belongs to the epoch of the Great Revival. Of him Edmund -Burke said, “He had visited all Europe in a circumnavigation of charity, -not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces, or the stateliness of -temples; not to collect medals or to collate manuscripts, but to dive -into the depths of dungeons and to plunge into the infections of -hospitals.” About the year 1760,[13] when he began his consecrated work, -Silas Told, as a prison philanthropist upon a smaller, but equally -earnest scale, attempted to console the prisoners of Newgate. - -Footnote 13: - - See Appendix. - -Shortly after hearing that sermon to which we have alluded, a messenger -came to him at the school to tell him that there were ten malefactors -lying under sentence of death in Newgate, some of them in a state of -considerable terror and alarm, and imploring him to find some one to -visit them. Here was the call to the work. The coincidences were -remarkable: John Wesley’s sermon, his own aroused and tender state of -mind produced by the sermon, and the occasion for the active and -practical exercise of his feeling. So opportunities would meet us of -turning suggestions into usefulness, if we watched for them. - -The English laws were barbarous in those days; truly it has been said -that a fearfully heavyweight of blood rests upon the conscience of -England for the state of the law in those times. Few of those who have -given such honour to the noble labours of John Howard and the loving -ministrations of Elizabeth Fry ever heard of Silas Told. In a smaller -sphere than the first of these, and in a much more intensely painful -manner than the second, he anticipated the labours of both. He instantly -responded to this first call to Newgate. Two of the ten malefactors were -reprieved; he attended the remaining eight to the gallows. He had so -influenced the hearts of all of them in their cell that their obduracy -was broken down and softened—so great had been his power over them, that -locked up together in one cell the night before their execution, they -had spent it in prayer and solemn conversation. “At length they were -ordered into the cart, and I was prevailed upon to go with them. When we -were in the cart I addressed myself to each of them separately. The -first was Mr. Atkins, the son of a glazier in the city, a youth nineteen -years of age. I said to him, ‘My dear, are you afraid to die?’ He said, -‘No, sir; really I am not.’ I asked him wherefore he was not afraid to -die? and he said, ‘I have laid my soul at the feet of Jesus, therefore I -am not afraid to die.’ I then spake to Mr. Gardner, a journeyman -carpenter; he made a very comfortable report of the true peace of God -which he found reigning in his heart. The last person to whom I spoke -was one Thompson, a very illiterate young man; but he assured me he was -perfectly happy in his Saviour, and continued so until his last moments. -This was the first time of my visiting the malefactors in Newgate, and -then it was not without much shame and fear, because I clearly perceived -the greater part of the populace considered me as one of the sufferers.” - -The most remarkable of this cluster was one John Lancaster—for what -offence he was sentenced to death does not appear; but the entire -account Silas gives of him, both in the prison and at the place of -execution, exhibits a fine, tender, and really holy character. The -attendant sheriff himself burst into tears before the beautiful -demeanour of this young man. However, so it was, that he was without any -friend in London to procure for his body a proper interment; and the -story of Silas admits us into a pretty spectacle of the times. After the -poor bodies were cut down, Lancaster’s was seized by a surgeons’ mob, -who intended to carry it over to Paddington. It was Silas’s first -experience, as we have seen; and he describes the whole scene as rather -like a great fair than an awful execution. In this confusion the body of -Lancaster had been seized, the crowd dispersed—all save some old woman, -who sold gin, and Silas himself, very likely smitten into extraordinary -meditation by a spectacle so new to him—when a company of eight sailors -appeared on the scene, with truncheons in their hands, who said they had -come to see the execution, and gazed with very menacing faces on the -vacated gallows from whence the bodies had been cut down. “Gentlemen,” -said the old woman, “I suppose you want the man that the surgeons have -got?” “Ay,” said the sailors, “where is he?” The old woman gave them to -understand that the body had been carried away to Paddington, and she -pointed them to the direct road. Away the sailors hastened—it may be -presumed that Lancaster was a sailor, and some old comrade of these men. -They demanded his body from the surgeons’ mob, and obtained it. What -they intended to do with it scarcely transpires; it is most likely that -they had intended a rescue at the foot of the gallows, and arrived too -late. However, hoisting it on their shoulders, away they marched with it -off to Islington, and thence round to Shoreditch; thence to a place -called Coventry’s Fields. By this time they were getting fairly wearied -out with their burden, and by unanimous consent they agreed to lay it on -the step of the first door they came to: this done, they started off. It -created some stir in the street, which brought down an old woman who -lived in the house to the step of the door, and who exclaimed, as she -saw the body, in a loud, agitated voice, “Lord! this is my son John -Lancaster!” It is probable that the old woman was a Methodist, for to -Silas Told and the Methodists she was indebted for a decent and -respectable burial for her son in a good strong coffin and decent -shroud. Silas and his wife went to see him whilst he was lying so, -previous to his burial. There was no alteration of his visage, no marks -of violence, and says Told, “A pleasant smile appeared on his -countenance, and he lay as in sweet sleep.” A singularly romantic story, -for it seems the sailors did not know at all to whom he belonged; and -what an insight into the social condition of London at that time! - -Told did not give up his connection with his school at the Foundry, but -he devoted himself, sanctioned by John Wesley and his Church fellowship, -to the preaching and ministering to all the poor felons and malefactors -in London, including also, in this exercise of love, the work-houses for -twelve miles round London; he believed he had a message of tender -sympathy for those who were of this order, “sick and in prison.” It -seems strange to us, who know how much he had suffered himself, that the -old sailor possessed such a loving, tender, and affectionate heart; and -yet he tells how, in the earlier part of these very years, he was -haunted by irritating doubts and alarms: then came to him old mystical -revelations, such as those he had known when drowning, reminding us of -similar instances in the lives of John Howe and John Flavel; and the -noble man was strengthened. - -He went on for twenty years in the way we have described; and the -interest of his autobiography compels the wish that it were much longer; -for, of course, the largest amount of his precious life of labour was -not set down, and cannot be recalled; and readers who are fond of -romance will find his name in connection with some of the most -remarkable executions of his time. - -A singular circumstance was this: Four gentlemen—Mr. Brett, the son of -an eminent divine in Dublin; Whalley, a gentleman of considerable -fortune, possessed of three country-seats of his own; Dupree, “in every -particular,” says Silas, “a complete gentleman;” and Morgan, an officer -on board one of His Majesty’s ships of war—after dinner, upon the -occasion of their being at an election for the members for Chelmsford, -proposed to start forth, and, by way of recreation, rob somebody on the -highway. Away they went, and chanced upon a farmer, whom they eased of a -considerable sum of money. The farmer followed them into Chelmsford; -they were all secured, and next day removed to London; they took their -trials, and were sentenced, and left for execution. Told visited them -all in prison. Morgan was engaged to be married to Lady Elizabeth -Hamilton, the sister of the Duke of Hamilton. She repeatedly visited her -affianced husband in the cell, and Told was with them at most of their -interviews. It was supposed that, from the rank of the prisoners, and -the character of their offence, there would be no difficulty in -obtaining a reprieve; but the King was quite inexorable; he said, “his -subjects were not to be in bodily fear in order that men might gratify -their drunken whims.” Lady Elizabeth Hamilton, however, thrust herself -several times before the King; wept, threw herself on her knees, and -behaved altogether in such a manner that the King said, “Lady Betsy, -there is no standing your importunity any further; I will spare his -life, but on one condition—that he is not acquainted therewith until he -arrives at the place of execution;” and it was so. The other three -unfortunates were executed, and Lady Elizabeth, in her coach, received -her lover into it as he stepped from the cart. It is a sad story, but it -must have been a sweet satisfaction to the lady. - -Far more dreadful were some cases which engaged the tender heart of -Silas. A young man, named Coleman, was tried for an aggravated assault -on a young woman. The young woman herself declared that Coleman was not -the man; but he had enemies who pressed apparent circumstances against -him, and urged them on the young woman, to induce her to change her -opinion. She never wavered; yet, singular to say, he was convicted and -executed. A short time after the real criminal was discovered, by his -own confession; he was also tried, condemned, and executed, and the -perjured witnesses against poor Coleman sentenced to stand in the -pillory. - -But one of the most pitiful and dreadful cases in Silas Told’s -experience was that of Mary Edmondson, a sweet young girl, tried upon -mere circumstantial evidence, and executed on Kennington Common, for the -supposed murder of her aunt at Rotherhithe. She appears to have been -most brutally treated; the mob believed her to be guilty, and received -her with shocking execrations. Whether Silas had a prejudice against her -or not, we cannot say; it is not likely that he had a prejudice against -any suffering soul; but it so happened, he says, as he had not visited -her in her imprisonment, so he entertained no idea of seeing her suffer. -But as he was passing through the Borough, a pious cheesemonger, named -Skinner, called him into his shop, tenderly expressed deep interest in -her present and future state, and besought him to see her; so his first -interview with her was only just as she was going forth to her sad end. - -Silas shall tell the story himself: “When she was brought into the room, -she stood with her back against the wainscot, but appeared perfectly -resigned to the will of God. I then addressed myself to her, saying, ‘My -dear, for God’s sake, for Christ’s sake, for the sake of your own -precious soul, do not die with a lie in your mouth; you are, in a few -moments, to appear in the presence of the holy God, who is of purer eyes -than to behold iniquity. Oh, consider what an eternity of misery must be -the position of all who die in their sins!’ She heard me with much -meekness and simplicity, but answered that she had already advanced the -truth, and must persevere in the same spirit to her last moments.” -Efforts were made to prevent Told from accompanying her any farther, and -the rioters were so exasperated against her that Told seems only to have -been safe by keeping near to the sheriff along the whole way. The -sheriff also told him that he would be giving a great satisfaction to -the whole nation, could he only bring her to a confession. “Now, as we -were proceeding on the road, the sheriff’s horse being close to the -cart, I looked up at her from under the horse’s bridle, and I said, ‘My -dear, look to Jesus.’ This quickened her spirit, insomuch that although -she had not looked about her before, she turned herself round to me, and -said, ‘Sir, I bless God I can look to Jesus—to my comfort.’” - -Arrived at the place of execution, he spoke to her again solemnly, “Did -you not commit the act? Had you no concern therein? Were you not -interested in the murder?” She said, “I am as clear of the whole affair -as I was the day my mother brought me into the world.” She was very -young, she had all the aspects of innocence about her. The sheriff burst -into tears, and turned his head away, exclaiming, “Good God! it is a -second Coleman’s case!” - -At this moment her cousin stepped up into the cart, and sought to kiss -her. She turned her face away, and pushed him off. She had before -charged him with being the murderer—and he was. When subsequently taken -up for another crime, he confessed the committal of this. Her aunt had -left to Mary, in the event of her death, more money than to this wretch. -The executioner drew the cart away, and Mary’s body—leaning the poor -head, in her last moments, on Silas’s shoulder—dear old Silas, her only -comfort in that terrible hour—fell into the arms of death. But he tells -how she was cold and still before the cart was drawn away. - -But perhaps a still more pitiful case was that of poor Anderson, who was -hanged for stealing sixpence: he was a labouring man, and had been of -irreproachable character. He and his wife—far gone with child—were -destitute of money, clothes, and food. He said to his wife, “My dear, I -will go out, down to the quays; it may be that the Lord will provide me -with a loaf of bread.” All his efforts were fruitless, but passing -through Hoxton Fields, he met two washerwomen. He did not bid them stop, -but he said to one, “Mistress, I want money.” She gave him twopence. He -said to the other, “You have money, I know you have.” She said, “I have -fourpence.” He took that. Insensible of what might follow, as of what he -had done, he walked down into Old Street: there, the two women having -followed him gave him in charge of a constable. He was tried, sentenced -to death, and for this he died. “Never,” says Told, “through the years I -have attended the prisoners, have I seen such meek, loving, patient -spirits as this man and his wife.” Told attended him to execution, and -sought to comfort the poor fellow by promising him to look after his -wife; and most tenderly did Told and his wife redeem the promise, for -they took her for a short time into their own home. Told obtained a -housekeeper’s situation for her, and she became a creditable and -respected woman. He bound her daughter apprentice to a weaver, and she, -probably, turned out well, although he says, “I have never seen her but -twice since, which is many years ago.” - -Our readers will, perhaps, think that it is time we drew these harrowing -stories to a close; but there are many more of them in this brief, but -most interesting, although forgotten autobiography. They are recited -with much pathos. We have the story of Harris, the flying highwayman; of -Bolland, a sheriff’s officer, who was executed for forging a note, -although he had refunded the money, and twice afterwards paid the sum of -the bill to secure himself. A young gentleman, named Slocomb, defrauded -his father of three hundred pounds; his father would not in any way -stir, or remit his claim, to save him. Told attended him and thought -highly of him, not only because he expressed himself with so much -resignation, but because he never indulged a complaint against him whom -Told calls “that lump of adamant, his father.” With him was executed -another young gentleman, named Powell, for forgery. Silas Told also -attended that cruel woman, Elizabeth Brownrigg, who was executed for the -atrocious murder of her apprentices. And of all the malefactors whom he -attended she seems to us the most unsatisfactory. - -We trust our readers will not be displeased to receive these items from -the biography of a very remarkable, a singularly romantic and chequered, -as well as singularly useful career. References to Silas Told will be -found in most of the biographies of Wesley. Southey passes him by with a -very slight allusion. Tyerman dwells on his memory with a little more -tenderness; but, with the exception of Stevens, none has touched with -real interest upon this extraordinary though obscure man, and his -romantic life and labours in a very strange path of Christian -benevolence and usefulness. He was known, far and near, as the -“prisoners’ chaplain,” although an unpaid one. He closed his life in -1778, in the sixty-eighth year of his age. As we have seen, John Wesley -appropriately officiated at his funeral, and pronounced an affectionate -encomium over the remains of his honoured old friend and -fellow-labourer. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - MISSIONARY SOCIETIES. - - -Illustrating what we have said before, it remains to be noticed, that -nearly all the great societies sprang into existence almost -simultaneously. The foremost among these,[14] founded in 1792, was the -Baptist Missionary Society. It appears to have arisen from a suggestion -of William Carey, the celebrated Northamptonshire shoemaker, who -proposed as an inquiry to an association of Northamptonshire ministers, -“whether it were not practicable and obligatory to attempt the -conversion of the heathen.” It is certainly still a moot question -whether Le Verrier or Adams first laid the hand of science on the planet -Neptune; but it seems quite certain that, when one of God’s great -thoughts is throbbing in the heart of one of His apostles, the same -impulse and passion is stirring another, perhaps others, in remote and -faraway scenes. Altogether unknown to William Carey, that same year the -great Claudius Buchanan was dreaming his divine dreams about the -conquest of India for Christ, in St. Mary’s College, Cambridge.[15] -Undoubtedly the honour of the first consolidation of the thought into a -missionary enterprise must be given to William Carey and his little band -of obscure believers. - -Footnote 14: - - It is not implied that these were the first modern missionary - agencies. The Moravians had already sent the Gospel into many regions. - There were Swedish and Danish Missionary Societies also at work. In - 1649 a Society for Promoting and Propagating the Gospel of Jesus - Christ in New England had been formed, and about 1697 the “Society for - Promoting Christian Knowledge” and the “Society for the Propagation of - the Gospel in Foreign Parts” were established. See page 256 and foot - note. - -Footnote 15: - - See Appendix. - -[Illustration: - - William Carey. -] - -At the close of Carey’s address, to which we have referred, a collection -was made for the purpose of attempting a missionary crusade upon -Hindostan, amounting to £13 2s. 6d. = $65.60. The wits made fine work of -this: the reader may still turn to Sydney Smith’s paper in the -_Edinburgh Review_, in which the idea and the effort are satirised as -that of “an army of maniacs setting forth to the conquest of India.” But -this humble effort resulted in magnificent achievements; Carey and his -illustrious coadjutors, Ward and Marshman, set forth, and became -stupendous Oriental scholars, translating the Word of Life into many -Indian dialects. Then came tempests of abuse and scurrility at home from -eminent pens. We experience a shame in reading them; but it shows the -catholicity of spirit pervading the minds of Christ’s real followers, -that Lord Teignmouth, and William Wilberforce, and Dr. Buchanan, were -amongst the ablest and most earnest defenders of the noble Baptist -missionaries. We are able to see now that this mission may be said to -have saved India to the British Empire. It not only created the scholars -to whom we have referred, and the bands of holy labourers, but also the -sagacity of Lord Lawrence, and the consecrated courage of Sir Henry -Havelock. We are prepared, therefore, to maintain that England is -indebted more to William Carey and his £13 2s 6d. than to the cunning of -Clive and the rapacity of Warren Hastings. - -Another child of the Revival was born in 1795—the London Missionary -Society. But it would be idle to attempt to enumerate the names either -of its founders, its missionaries, or their fields of labour; let the -reader turn to the names of the founders, and he will find they were -nearly all enthusiasts who had been baptised into the spirit of the -Revival—Rowland Hill, Matthew Wilks, Alexander Waugh, William Kingsbury, -and, notably, Thomas Haweis, the Rector of Aldwinckle and chaplain to -the Countess of Huntingdon. Nor must we omit the name of David -Bogue,[16] that strong and eloquent intelligence, whose admirable and -suggestive work on _The Divine Authority of the_ _New Testament_, sent -to Napoleon in his exile at St. Helena by the Viscountess Duncan, was, -after the Emperor’s death, returned to the author full of annotations, -thus seeming to give some clue to those religious conversations, in -which the illustrious exile certainly astonishes us, not long before his -departure. - -Footnote 16: - - See Appendix. - -It is the London Missionary Society which has covered the largest -surface of the earth with its missions, and it is not invidious to say -that its records register a larger range of conquests over heathenism -and idolatry than could be chronicled in any age since the first -apostles went upon their way. We have only to remember the Sandwich -Islands,[17] and the crowds of islands in the Southern Seas, with their -chief civiliser, the martyr of Erromanga; Africa, from the Cape along -through the deep interior, with Moffatt and Livingstone, whose -celebrated motto was, “The end of the geographical feat is the beginning -of the missionary enterprise;” China and Robert Morison; Madagascar and -William Ellis, and many other regions and names to justify our verdict. - -Footnote 17: - - (The civilisation and Christian character of these Islands is largely, - due to the labours of the missionaries of the American Board of - Commissioners for Foreign Missions.—ED.) - -In 1799 the Church Missionary Society came into existence. “What!” said -the passionate and earnest Rev. Melville Horne, in attempting to arouse -the clergy to missionary enthusiasm; “have Carey and the Baptists had -more forgiven than we, that they should love more? Have the fervent -Methodists and patient Moravians been extortionate publicans, that they -should expend their all in a cause which we decline? Have our -Independent brethren persecuted the Church more, that they should now be -more zealous in propagating the faith which it once destroyed?” And so -the Church Missionary Society arose;[18] and in 1804, the Bible Society; -in 1805, the British and Foreign School Society; in 1799, the Religious -Tract Society, which, since its foundation, has probably circulated not -less than five hundred millions of publications. The Wesleyan Missionary -Society—which claims in date to take precedence of all in its foundation -in the year 1769—was not formally constituted till 1817.[19] - -Footnote 18: - - See Appendix - -Footnote 19: - - (The great missionary organizations of America belong to the early - part of this century. The First day or Sunday-school Society was - formed in 1791; the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign - Missions in 1810; the American Baptist Missionary Union in 1814; - Methodist Episcopal Missionary Society in 1819; the Philadelphia Adult - and Sunday-school Union (which, in 1824, was merged in the American - Sunday-school Union) in 1817; the Protestant Episcopal Board of - Missions in 1821. Of Continental Societies, the Moravian Missionary - Society was formed in 1732; the Netherlands Missionary Society in - 1797; the Basle Evangelical Mission in 1816. Appendix.—ED.) - -Every one of these, and many other such associations, alike show the -vivid and vigorous spirit which was abroad seeking to secure the empire -of the world to the cause of Divine truth and love. - -And, meantime, what works were going on at home? Education and -intelligence were widely spreading; simple academies were forming, like -that founded by the Countess of Huntingdon at Trevecca, where the minds -of young men were being moulded and informed to become the intelligent -vehicles of the Gospel message—eminently that of the great and good -Cornelius Winter, in Gloucestershire; and that of David Bogue at -Gosport; while, in the north of England, arose the small but very -effective colleges of Bradford and Rotherham; and the now handsome -Lancashire Independent College had its origin in the vestry of Mosley -Street Chapel, where the sainted William Roby, as tutor, gathered around -him a number of young men, and armed them with intellectual appliances -for the work of the ministry. - -Some of the earliest efforts of Methodism, and some of the most -successful, had been in the gaols, and among the malefactors of the -country—notably in the wonderful labours of Silas Told, whose -extraordinary story has been recited in these pages. Silas passed away, -but an angel of light moved through the cells of Newgate in the person -of Elizabeth Fry, as beautiful and commanding in her presence as she was -holy in her sweet and fervid zeal. Now began thoughts too about the -waifs and strays of the population—the helpless and forgotten; and John -Townshend, an Independent minister, laid the foundation of the first -Deaf and Dumb Asylum, the noble institution of London. - -In the world of politics, also, the men of the Revival were exercising -their influence, and procuring charters of freedom for the mind of the -nation. Has it not been ever true that civil and religious liberty have -flourished side by side? A blight cannot pass over one without withering -the other. The honour of the Repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts is -due to the Great Revival: the Toleration Act of those days was really -more oppressive on pious members of the Church of England than on -Dissenters; they could not obtain, as Dissenters could, a licence for -holding religious services in their houses, because they were members of -the Church of England. - -William Wilberforce owed his first religious impressions to the -preaching of Whitefield; with all his fine liberality of heart, he -became an ardent member of the communion of the Church of England. It -seems incredible to us now that he lived constantly in the -expectation—we will not say fear—of indictments against him, for holding -prayer-meetings and religious services at his house in Kensington Gore. -Lord Barham, the father of the late amiable and excellent Baptist Noel, -was fined forty pounds, on two informations of his neighbour, the Earl -of Romney, for a breach of the statute in like services. That such a -state of things as this was changed to the free and happy ordinances now -in force, was owing to the spirit which was abroad, giving not only -freedom to the soul of the man, but dignity and independence to the -social life of the citizen. Everywhere, and in every department of life, -the spirit of the Revival moved over the face of the waters, dividing -the light from the darkness, and thus God said, “Let there be light, and -there was light.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - AFTERMATH. - - -The effects of that great awakening which we have thus attempted -concisely, but fairly, to delineate, are with us still; the strength is -diffused, the tone and colour are modified. One chief purpose has guided -the pen of the writer throughout: it has been to show that the immense -regeneration effected in English manners and society during the later -years of the last century and the first of the present, was the result -of a secret, silent, most subtle spiritual force, awakening the minds -and hearts of men in most opposite parts of the nation, and in widely -different social circumstances. We would give all honour where honour is -due, remembering that “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from -above.” There are writers whose special admiration is given to some -favourite sect, some effective movement, or some especially beloved -name; but a dispassionate view, an entrance—if we may be permitted so to -speak of it—into the camera, the chamber of the times, presents to the -eye a long succession of actors, and brings out into the clear light a -wonderful variety of influences all simultaneously at work to redeem -society from its darkness, and to give it a higher degree of spiritual -purity and mental and moral dignity. - -The first great workers were passing away, most of them, as is usually -the case, dying on Pisgah, seeing most distinctly the future results of -their work, but scarcely permitted to enter upon the full realisation of -it. In 1791, in the eighty-fourth year of her age, died the revered -Countess of Huntingdon; her last words, “My work is done; I have nothing -to do but to go to my Father!” No chronicle of convent or of -canonisation, nor any story of biography, can record, a more simple, -saintly, and utterly unselfish life. To the last unwearied, she was -daily occupied in writing long letters, arranging for her many -ministers, disposing of her chapel trusts; sometimes feeling that her -rank, and certain suppositions as to the extent of her wealth, made her -an object upon which men were not indisposed to exercise their rapacity. -Still, as compared with the state of society when she commenced her -work, in this her closing year, she must have looked over a hopeful and -promising future, as sweet and enchanting as the ineffably lovely -scenery upon which her eyes opened at Castle Doddington, and the -neighbouring beauties of her first wedded home. - -[Illustration: - - JOHN WESLEY’S TOMB, CITY ROAD, LONDON. -] - -In 1791, John Wesley, in his eighty-eighth year, entered into his rest, -faithfully murmuring, as well as weakness and stammering lips could -articulate, “The best of all is, God is with us!” Abel Stevens says, -“His life stands out in the history of the world, unquestionably -pre-eminent in religious labours above that of any other man since the -apostolic age.” It is not necessary, in order to do Wesley sufficient -honour, to indulge in such invidious comparisons. It is significant, -however, that the last straggling syllables which ever fell from the pen -in his beloved hand, were in a letter to William Wilberforce, cheering -him on in his efforts for the abolition of slavery and the slave trade. -Charles Wesley had preceded his brother to his rest in 1788, in the -eightieth year of his age. - -[Illustration: - - JOHN WESLEY. M.A. - BORN JUNE 17, 1703; DIED MARCH 2, 1791. - CHARLES WESLEY. M.A. - BORN DECEMBER 18, 1708; DIED MARCH 29, 1788. - “THE BEST OF ALL IS, GOD IS WITH US.” - “I LOOK UPON ALL THE WORLD AS MY PARISH.” - The Wesley Monument. -] - -Thus the earlier labourers were passing away, and the work of the -Revival was passing into other forms, illustrating how not only “one -generation passeth away, and another cometh,” but also how, as the -workers pass, the work abides. It would be very pleasant to spend some -time in noticing the interior of many old halls, which were now opening, -at once for the entertainment of evangelists, and for Divine service; -prejudices were dying out, and so far from the new religious life -proving inimical to the repose of the country, it was found to be -probably its surest security and friend; and while the efforts were -growing for carrying to far-distant regions the truth which enlightens -and saves, anecdotes are not wanting to show that it was this very -spirit which created a tender interest in maintaining and devising means -to make more secure the minister’s happiness at home. - -From many points of view William Wilberforce maybe regarded as the -central man of the Revival in its new and crowning aspect; as he bore -the standard of England at that great funeral which did honour to all -that was mortal of his friend William Pitt, on its way to the vaults of -the old Abbey, so, as his predecessors departed, it devolved on him to -bear the standard of those truths and principles which had effected the -great change, and which were to effect, if possible, yet greater -changes. By his sweet, winning, and if silvery, yet enchaining and -overwhelming eloquence, by his conversation, which cannot have been, -from the traditions which are preserved of it, less than wonderful, and -by his lucid and practical pen, he continued to give eminent effect to -the Revival, and to procure for its doctrines acceptance in the highest -circles of society. It is perhaps difficult now to understand the cause -of the wonderful influence produced by his _Practical View of -Christianity_; that book itself illustrates how the seeds of things are -transmitted through many generations. It is a long way to look back to -the poor pedlar who called at the farm door of Richard Baxter’s father -in Eaton-Constantine, and sold there Richard Sibbs’s _Bruised Reed_, but -that was the birth-hour of that great and transcendently glorious book, -_The Saint’s Everlasting Rest_. _The Saint’s Everlasting Rest_ was the -inspiration of Philip Doddridge, and to it we owe his _Rise and Progress -of Religion in the Soul_. Wilberforce read that book, and it moved him -to the desire to speak out its earnestness, pathos, and solemnity in -tones suitable to the spirit of the Great Revival which had been going -on around him. A young clergyman read the result of Wilberforce’s wish -in his _Practical View of Christianity_, and he testifies, “To that book -I owe a debt of gratitude; to my unsought and unexpected introduction to -it, I owe the first sacred impressions which I ever received as to the -spiritual nature of the Gospel system, the vital character of personal -religion, the corruption of the human heart, and the way of salvation by -Jesus Christ.” And all this was very shortly given to the world in those -beautiful pieces, which it surely must be ever a pleasure to read, -whether, for their tender delineation of the most important truths, or -the exquisite language, and the delightful charm of natural scenery and -pathetic reflection in which the experiences of _The Young Cottager_, -_The Dairyman’s Daughter_, and other “short and simple annals of the -poor,” are conveyed through the fascinating pen of Legh Richmond. - -In this eminently lovely and lovable life we meet with one on whom, -assuredly, the mantle of the old clerical fathers of the Revival had -fallen. He was a Churchman and a clergyman, he loved and honoured his -Church and its services exceedingly; but it seems impossible to detect, -in any single act of his life or word of his writings, a tinge of -acerbity or bitterness. The quiet and mellowed charm of his tracts—which -are certainly among the finest pieces of writing in that way which we -possess—appear to have pervaded his whole life. Brading, in the Isle of -Wight, has been marvellously transformed since he was the vicar of its -simple little church; the old parsonage, where little Jane talked with -her pastor, is now only a memory, and no longer, as we saw it first many -years since, a feature in the charming landscape; and the little -epitaphs which the vicar himself wrote for the stones, or wooden -memorials over the graves of his parishioners, are all obliterated by -time. Several years since we sought in vain for the sweet verse on his -own infant daughter, although about thirty-five years since we read it -there: - - “This early bud, so young and fair, - Called hence by early doom, - Just came to show how sweet a flower - In Paradise should bloom.” - -But these little papers of this excellent man circulated wherever the -English language was spoken or read, and the spirit of their pages -penetrated farther than the pages themselves; while they seem to present -in a more pleasant, winning and portable form the spirit of the Revival, -divested of much of the ruggedness which had, naturally, characterized -its earlier pens. - -Indeed, if some generalisation were needed to express the phase into -which the Revival was passing, at this, the earlier part of the present -century, it should be called the “literary.” Eminent names were -appearing, and eminent pens, to gather up the elements of faith which -had moved the minds and tongues of men in past years, and to arrest the -conscience through the eye. This opens up a field so large that we -cannot do justice to it in these brief sketches. To name here only one -other writer;—Thomas Scott, the commentator on the Bible, and author of -_The Force of Truth_, is acknowledged to have exerted an influence the -greatness of which has been described in glowing terms by men such as -Sir. James Stephen and John Henry Newman. - -[Illustration: - - CHARLES SIMEON. -] - -No idea can be formed by those of the present generation of the immense -influence Charles Simeon exercised over the mind of the Church of -England. He was the leader of the growing evangelical party in the -Church; his doctrines were exactly those which had been the favourite on -the lips of Whitefield, Berridge, Grimshaw, and Newton. His family was -ancient and respectable, he was the son of a Berkshire squire. He had -been educated at Eton, and afterwards at King’s College, Cambridge; he -became very wealthy. His accession to the life of the Revival seemed -like an immense addition of natural influence: he was faithful and -earnest, and, in the habits of his mind and character, exactly what we -understand by the thorough English gentleman; almost may it be said that -he made the Revival “gentlemanly” in clergymen. He opened the course of -his fifty-six years’ ministry in Cambridge amidst a storm of -persecution; the church wardens attempted to crush him, the pews of his -church were locked up, and he was even locked out of the building. -Through all this he passed, and he became, for the greater part of the -long period we have mentioned, the most noted preacher of his town and -university; and he published, certainly, in his _Horæ Homileticæ_ a -greater number of attempts at opening texts in the form of sermons, than -had ever been given to the world. Simeon devoted his own fortune and -means for the purchase of advowsons, in order that the pulpits of -churches might be filled by the representatives of his own opinions. No -history of the Revival can be complete without noticing this phase, -which scattered over England, far more extensively than can be here -described, a new order of clergyman, who have maintained in their -circles evangelical truth, and have held no inconsiderable sway over the -mind of the country. - -We only know history through men; events are only possible through men, -of whose mind and activity they are the manifestation. This brief -succession of sketches has been very greatly a series of portraits -standing out prominently from the scenery to which the character gave -effect; but of this singular, almost simultaneous movement, how much has -been left unrecorded! It remains unquestionably true that no adequate -and perfectly impartial review of the Revival has ever yet been written. - -[Illustration: - - Boston Elm. -] - -The story of the Revival in Wales, what it found there, and what it -effected, is one of its most interesting chapters. How deep was the -slumber when, about 1735-37, Howell Harris began to traverse the -Principality, exhorting his neighbours concerning the interests of their -souls! another illustration that it was not from one single spring that -the streams of the Revival poured over the land. It was rather like some -great mountain, such as Plinlimmon, from whose high centre, elevated -among the clouds, leap forth five rivers, meandering among the rocks in -their brook-like way, until at last they pour themselves along the -lowlands in broad and even magnificent streams, either uniting as the -Severn and the Wye, or finding their separate way to the ocean. -Whitefield found his way to Wales, but Howell Harris was already pouring -out his consecrated life there; to his assistance came the voice of -Rowlands, “the thunderer,” as he was called. Scientific sermon-makers -would say that Harris was no great preacher; but he has been described -as the most successful and wonderful one who ever ascended pulpit or -platform in the Principality. By the mingling of his tears and his -terrors, in seven years he roused the whole country from one end to the -other, north and south; communicating the impulse of his zeal to many -like-minded men, by whose impassioned words and indefatigable labours -the work was continued with signal and lasting results.[20] - -Footnote 20: - - See a series of papers on “Welsh Preaching and Preachers” in the - _Sunday at Home_, for 1876. - -If the first throbbings of the coming Revival were felt in Northampton, -in America, in 1734, beneath the truly awful words of the great Jonathan -Edwards, it was from England it derived its sustenance, and assumed -organisation and shape. The Boston Elm, a venerable tree near the centre -of Boston Park, or common, whose decayed limbs are still held together -by clamps or rivets of iron, while a railing defends it from rude hands, -is an object as sacred to the traditions of Methodism in the United -States, as is Gwennap Pit to those of Methodism in Western England. -There Jesse Lee, the first founder of Methodism in New England, -commenced the work in 1790, which has issued in an organisation even -more extensive and gigantic than that which is associated with the -Conference in England. As the United States have inherited from the -mother country their language, their literature, and their principles of -law, so also those great agitations of spiritual life to which we have -concisely referred, crossed the Atlantic, and spread themselves with -power there.[21] - -Footnote 21: - - See Chapter XIV., The Revival in the New World. - -It is not within our province to attempt to enumerate all the sects, -each with its larger or lesser proportion of spiritual power, religious -activity, and general acceptance among the people, to which the Revival -gave birth;—such as the large body of the Bible Christians of the West -of England; the Primitive Methodists of the North, those who called -themselves the New Connection Methodists, or the United Free Church -Association. All these, and others, are branches from the great central -stem. Neither is it in our province to notice how the same universal -agitation of religious feeling, at exactly the same time, gave birth to -other forms, not regarded with so much complacency;—such as the rugged -and faulty faith and following of that curious creature, William -Huntington, who, singular to say, found also his best biographer in -Robert Southey; or the strangely multifarious works and rationalistic -development of Baron Swedenborg, which have, at least, the merit of -giving a more spiritual rendering to the Christian system than that -which was found in the prevalent Arianism of the period of their -publication. Turn wherever we may, it is the same. There was a deeper -upheaving of the religious life, and far more widely spread, than -perhaps any age of the world since the time of the apostles had known -before. - -A change passed over the whole of English society. That social state -which we find described in the pages of Fielding and Smollett, and less -respectable writers, passed away, and passed away, we trust, for ever. -The language of impurity indulged with freedom by the dramatists of the -period when the Revival arose, and read, and read aloud, by ladies and -young girls in drawing-rooms, or by parlour firesides, became shameful -and dishonoured. In the course of fifty years, society, if not entirely -purged—for when may we hope for that blessedness?—was purified. A sense -of religious decorum, and some idea of religious duty, took possession -of homes and minds which were not at all impressed, either by the -doctrines or the discipline of Methodism. All this arose from the new -life which had been created. - -It was a fruitful soil upon which the revivalists worked. There was a -reverence for the Bible as the word of God, a faith often held very -ignorantly, but it pervaded the land. The Book was there in every parish -church, and in every hamlet; it became a kind of nexus of union for true -minds when they felt the power of Divine principles. Thus, when, as the -Revival strengthened itself, the great Evangelic party—a term which -seems to us less open to exception than “the Methodist party,” because -far more inclusive—met with the members of the Society of Friends, they -found that, with some substantial differences, they had principles in -common. The Quakers had been long in the land, but excepting in their -own persons—and they were few in number—they had not given much effect -to their principles. Methodism roused the country; Quakerism, with its -more quiet thought, gave suggestions, plans, largely supplied money. The -great works which these two have since unitedly accomplished of -educating the nation, and shaking off the chain of the slave abroad, -neither could have accomplished singly; the conscience of the country -was prepared by Evangelic sentiment. In taking up and working out the -great ideas of the Revival, we have never been indifferent to the share -due to members of the Society of Friends. We have already spoken of -Elizabeth Fry, to whom many of the princes of Europe in turn paid -honour, to whom with singular simplicity they listened as they heard her -preach. There are many names on which we should like a little to dwell; -missionaries as arduous and earnest as any we have mentioned, such as -Stephen Grellet, Thomas Shillitoe, and Thomas Chalkley. But this would -enter into a larger plan than we dare to entertain. Our object now is -only to say, how greatly other nations, and the world at large, have -benefited by the awakening the conscience, the setting free the mind, -the education of the character, by bringing all into immediate contact -with the Word of God and the truth which it unveils. - -Situated as we are now, amidst the movements and agitations of uncertain -seas of thought, wondering as to the future, with strong adjurations on -every hand to renounce the Word of Life, and to trust ourselves to the -filmy rationalism of modern speculation; while we feel that for the -future, and for those seas over which we look there are no tide-tables, -we may, at least, safely affirm this, that the Bible carries us beyond -the highest water-mark; that, as societies have constructed themselves -out of its principles they have built safely, not only for eternal hope, -but for human and social happiness also; and we may safely ask human -thought—which, unaided and unenlightened by revelation, has had a pretty -fair field for the exercise and display of its power in the history of -the world—to show to us a single chapter in all the ages of its history, -which has effected so much for human, spiritual, intellectual, and -social well-being, as that which records the results of the Great -Revival of the Last Century. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE REVIVAL IN THE NEW WORLD. - - [BY THE EDITOR.] - - -The labours of Whitefield had a remarkable influence upon the extension -of the Great Revival in the colonies of America. In these days of -mammoth steamships and rapid railways, equipped with drawing-room -coaches, travelling has become a pleasant pastime; but a century and a -half ago, when the sailing vessel and the old lumbering stage-coach were -the most rapid and the chief means of public conveyance, and when these -were often uncertain and irregular, subjecting the traveller to frequent -and annoying delays, if not disappointments, it must have been a -formidable undertaking to cross the Atlantic and to journey through a -new country, almost a wilderness, such long distances as from Georgia to -Massachusetts. Yet Whitefield, with a zeal and a holy desire in “hunting -for souls,” made seven visits to America, crossing the ocean in -sailing-vessels thirteen times (“one voyage lasting eleven weeks”), and -travelled on his preaching tours almost constantly. In one of these -visits he went upwards of 1,100 miles through this then sparsely settled -country, and endured hardships and exposures from which a far stronger -and more vigorous constitution might well shrink. - -As in England, so in the American colonies, the decay of vital godliness -which preceded the great awakening had been long and deep. It began in -the latter part of the 17th century, and its progress was observed with -alarm by many of the notable and godly men of the day. Governor -Stoughton, previous to resigning the pulpit for the bench, proclaimed, -at Boston, that “many had become like Joash after the death of -Jehoiada—rotten, hypocritical, and a lie!” The venerable Torrey of -Weymouth, in a sermon before the legislature, exclaimed, “There is -already a great death upon religion; little more left than a name to -live. It is dying as to the being of it, by the general failure of the -work of conversion.” - -Mather, in 1700, asserts: “If the begun apostasy should proceed as fast -the next thirty years as it has done these last, it will come to that in -New England (except the gospel itself depart with the order of it) that -churches must be gathered out of churches.” President Willard also -published a sermon in the same year on “The Perils of the Times -Displayed,” in which he asks, “Whence is there such a prevalency of so -many immoralities amongst professors? Why so little success of the -gospel? How few thorough conversions to be observed; how scarce and -seldom! * * * It has been a frequent observation that if one generation -begins to decline, the next that follows usually grows worse; and so on, -until God pours out his spirit again upon them.” - -It was thirty years before the dawn of the great awakening began to -appear, even in the colony of Massachusetts; but there were many godly -men in various portions of the American colonies who had not yet bowed -the knee to the Baal of worldliness, and who earnestly sought, by great -fidelity in the presentation of the truth, to arrest the evil tendency -of the times. Among them was that greatest of American theologians, -Jonathan Edwards. Beholding the melancholy state of religion, not only -at Northampton, but in the surrounding regions, and that this evil -tendency was corrupting the Church, he began to preach with greater -boldness, more especially with the purpose of keeping error out of the -Church than with the design of awakening sinners. He was a man, however, -whose convictions were exceedingly strong, and who preached the truth, -not simply for the purpose of gaining a worldly victory, but because he -loved the truth and the Spirit wrought mightily by it. A surprising work -of grace attended his preaching. There was a melting down of all classes -and ages, in an overwhelming solicitude about salvation; an absorbing -sense of eternal realities and self-abasement and self-condemnation; a -spirit of secret and social prayer, followed by a concern for the souls -of others; and this awakening was so sudden and solemn, that in many -instances it produced loud outcries, and in some cases convulsions. -Doubtless this great awakening was as much a surprise to Edwards as to -those to whom he ministered. Naturally, such a wonderful work could not -be confined to Northampton alone; it began to extend to other places in -the colony. Remarkable and widespread as this work of grace was, -however, it does not seem to have penetrated through New England -generally, until after the arrival of Whitefield. The effect of -Whitefield’s preaching in Boston, says his biographer, was amazing. Old -Mr. Walter, the successor of Eliot, the apostle to the Indians, declared -it was Puritanism revived. So great was the interest that his farewell -sermon was attended by twenty thousand persons. “Such a power and -presence of God with a preacher, and in religious assemblies,” says Dr. -Colman, “I never saw before. Every day gives me fresh proofs of Christ -speaking in him.” And this interest, great as it was, seemed, if -possible, exceeded at Northampton when Whitefield met Edwards and -reminded his people of the days of old. A like success attended -Whitefield’s ministry in the town and college of New Haven, and at -Harvard College the effect was remarkable. Secretary Willard, writing to -Whitefield, says: “That which forebodes the most lasting advantage is -the new state of things in the college, where the impressions of -religion have been and still are very general, and many in a judgment of -charity brought home to Christ. Divers gentlemen’s sons that were sent -there only for a more polite education, are now so full of zeal for the -cause of Christ and the love of souls as to devote themselves entirely -to the study of divinity.” And Dr. Colman wrote Whitefield, of -Cambridge: “The college is entirely changed; the students are full of -God, and will, I hope, come out blessings in their generation, and I -trust are so now to each other. The voice of prayer and praise fills -their chambers, and sincerity, fervency, and joy, with seriousness of -heart, sit visible on their faces.” - -On his return to Boston, in 1745, Whitefield himself gives a similar -testimony in regard to the remarkable results of the Revival. He was -followed in his labours there by Gilbert Tennent, a Presbyterian from -New Jersey. That this was not an overdrawn picture of the work may be -inferred from a public testimony given by three of the leading ministers -in Boston, the Rev. Messrs. Prince, Webb, and Cooper. Among other -things, they said, “The wondrous work of God at this day making its -triumphant progress through the land has forced many men of clear minds, -strong powers, considerable knowledge, and firmly riveted in * * * * -Socinian tenets, to give them all up at once and yield to the adorable -sovereignty and irresistibility of the Divine Spirit in His saving -operations on the souls of men. For to see such men as these, some of -them of licentious lives, long inured in a course of vice and of high -spirits, coming to the preaching of the Word, some only out of -curiosity, and mere design to get matter of cavilling and banter, all at -once, in opposition to their inward resolutions and resistances, to fall -under an unexpected and hated power, to have all the strength of their -resolution and resistance taken away, to have such inward views of the -horrid wickedness not only of their lives but of their hearts, with -their exceeding great and immediate danger of eternal misery as has -amazed their souls and thrown them into distress unutterable, yea, -forced them to cry out in the assemblies with the greatest agonies, and -then, in two or three days, and sometimes sooner, to have such -unexpected and raised views of the infinite grace and love of God in -Christ, as have enabled them to believe in Him; lifted them at once out -of their distress; filled their hearts with admiration and joy -unspeakable and full of glory, breaking forth in their shining -countenances and transporting voices to the surprise of those about -them, kindling up at once into a flame of love to God in utter -detestation of their former courses and vicious habits,” fairly -characterises this wonderful work of God. - -Gilbert Tennent, who was pressed into the field by Whitefield, was born -in Ireland, and brought to this country by his father, and was educated -for the ministry. As a preacher he was, in his vigorous days, equalled -by few. His reasoning powers were strong, his language was forcible and -often sublime, and his manner of address warm and earnest. His eloquence -was, however, rather bold and awful than soft and persuasive, he was -most pungent in his address to the conscience. When he wished to alarm -the sinner, he could represent in the most awful manner the terrors of -the Lord. With admirable dexterity he exposed the false hope of the -hypocrite, and searched the corrupt heart to the bottom. Such were some -of the qualifications of the man whom Whitefield chose to continue his -work in America. He entered on his new labours with almost rustic -simplicity, wearing his hair undressed and a large great-coat girt with -a leathern girdle. He was of lofty stature and dignified and grave -aspect. His career as a preacher in New Jersey had been remarkable, and -now in New England his ministry was hardly less successful than that of -Whitefield. He actually shook the country as with an earthquake. -Wherever he came hypocrisy and Pharisaism either fell before him or -gnashed their teeth against him. Cold orthodoxy also started from her -downy cushion to imitate or to denounce him. So testifies the author of -the “_Life and Times of Whitefield_.” - -Whitefield’s first reception in New York was not particularly -flattering. He was refused the use of both the church and the -court-house. “The commissary of the Bishop,” he says, “was full of anger -and resentment, and denied me the use of his pulpit before I asked him -for it.” He replied, “I will preach in the fields, for all places are -alike to me.” At a subsequent visit he preached there seven weeks with -great acceptableness and success. Even his first labours were not wholly -in vain. Dr. Pemberton wrote to him that many were deeply affected, and -some who had been loose and profligate were ashamed and set upon -thorough reformation. The printers also at New York, as at Philadelphia, -applied to him for sermons to publish, assuring him “that hundreds had -called for them, and that thousands would purchase them.” Of his later -visit he says, “Such flocking of all ranks I never saw before.” At New -York many of the most respectable gentlemen and merchants went home with -him after his sermons to hear something more of the kingdom of Christ. - -“At Philadelphia,” says Philip, in his Life and Times of Whitefield, -“his welcome was cordial. Ministers and laymen of all denominations -visited him, inviting him to preach. He was especially pleased to find -that they preferred sermons when not delivered within church walls. It -was well they did, for his fame had reached the city before he arrived -and this collected crowds which no church could contain. The court-house -steps became his pulpit, and neither he nor the people wearied, although -the cold winds of November blew upon them night after night.” Previous -to one of his visits in Philadelphia, a place was erected in which -Whitefield could preach, and its managers offered him £800 annually, -with liberty to travel six months in a year wherever he chose, if he -would become their pastor. Though pleased with the offer he promptly -declined it. He was more pleased to learn that in consequence of a -former visit there were so many under soul-sickness that even Gilbert -Tennent’s feet were blistered with walking from place to place to see -them. - -Of his work in Maryland he writes, that he found those who had never -heard of redeeming grace. The harvest is promising. “Have Marylanders -also received the grace of God? Amazing love. Maryland is yielding -converts to Jesus; the Gospel is moving southwards.” - -He frequently visited New Jersey (Princeton) College, and there won many -young and bright witnesses for Christ. Hearing that sixteen students had -been converted at a former visit, he again went thither to fan the flame -he had kindled among the students, and says that he had four sweet -seasons which resembled old times. His spirits rose at the sight of the -young soldiers who were to fight when he fell. - -Although at times prejudice ran high against the Indians, Whitefield -espoused their cause as a philanthropist, and preached to them through -interpreters at the Indian school of Lebanon, under Dr. Wheelock, where -the sight of a promising nursery for future missionaries greatly -inspired him. And at one of the stations maintained by the sainted -Brainerd, he preached, found converted Indians, and saw nearly fifty -young ones in one school learning a Bible catechism. In the Indian -school at Lebanon he became so interested that he appealed to the public -and collected £120 at one meeting for its maintenance. Wherever he went -he saw the Redeemer’s stately steps in the great congregations which he -addressed. - -If there was any one point about which Whitefield’s interest centered in -America, it was in the orphan asylum which he aided in establishing in -Georgia. This was his “Bethesda.” The prosperity of the orphan home was -engraved upon his heart as with the point of a diamond, and it was ever -vividly present to him wherever he went. At one of his visits on parting -with the inmates he says: “Oh, what a sweet meeting I had with my dear -friends! What God has prepared for me I know not; but surely I cannot -expect a greater happiness until I embrace the saints in glory! When I -parted my heart was ready to break with sorrow, but now it almost bursts -with joy. Oh, how did each in turn hang upon my neck, kiss and weep over -me with tears of joy! And my own soul was so full of the sense of God’s -love, when I embraced one friend in particular, that I thought I should -have expired in the place. I felt my soul so full of the sense of Divine -goodness that I wanted words to express myself. When we came to public -worship, young and old were all dissolved in tears. After service -several of my parishioners, all of my family, and the little children -returned home crying along the street, and some could not avoid praying -very loud. Being very weak in body I laid myself upon a bed, but finding -so many in a weeping condition I rose and betook myself to prayer again, -but had I not lifted up my voice very high the groans and cries of the -children would have prevented me from being heard. This continued for -near an hour, till at last, finding their concern rather to increase -than to abate, I desired all to retire. Then some or other might be -heard praying earnestly in every corner of the house. It happened at -this time to thunder and lighten, which added very much to the solemnity -of the night. * * * I mention the orphans in particular, that their -benefactors may rejoice at what God is doing for their souls.” - -It is evident that Whitefield had a very tender heart towards all -children. One of his most effective sermons at Webb’s Chapel, Boston, -was occasioned by the touching remark of a dying boy, who had heard him -the day before. The boy was taken ill after the sermon, and said, “I -want to go to Mr. Whitefield’s God”—and expired. This touched the secret -place of both the thunder and the tears of Whitefield. He says, “It -encouraged me to speak to the little ones, but oh, how were the old -people affected when I said, ‘Little children, if your parents will not -come to Christ, do you come and go to heaven without them.’” After this -awful appeal no wonder that there were but few dry eyes. - -Another remarkable evidence of the extent and power of the Revival, and -of the versatility of Mr. Whitefield’s talents, is shown in the effect -produced upon the negro mind. The intensest interest prevailed among -even the poorest slaves. Upon one occasion Whitefield was very ill, and -in the hands of the physician to the time when he was expected to -preach. Suddenly he exclaimed, “My pains are suspended; by the help of -God I will go and preach, and then come home and die!” With some -difficulty he reached the pulpit. All were surprised, and looked as -though they saw one risen from the dead. He says of himself, “I was as -pale as death, and told them they must look upon me as a dying man come -to bear my dying testimony to the truths I had formerly preached to -them. All seemed melted, and were drowned in tears. The cry after me -when I left the pulpit was like the cry of sincere mourners when -attending the funeral of a dear departed friend. Upon my coming home, I -was laid upon a bed upon the ground near the fire, and I heard them say, -‘He is gone!’ but God was pleased to order it otherwise. I gradually -recovered. At this time a poor negro woman insisted upon seeing him when -he began to recover. She came in and sat on the ground, and looked -earnestly into his face; then she said, in broken accents: “Massa, you -jest go to hebben’s gate; but Jesus Christ said, ‘Get you down, get you -down; you musn’t come here yet; go first and call some more poor -negroes.’” Many colored people came to him asking, “Have I a soul?” Many -societies for prayer and mutual instruction were set up. Mr. Seward, a -travelling companion of Whitefield,; relates that a drinking club, -whereof a clergyman was a member, had a negro boy attending them, who -used to mimic people for their diversion. They called on him to mimic -Whitefield, which he was very unwilling to do; but they insisted upon -it. He stood up and said:—“I speak the truth in Christ, I lie not, -unless you repent you will all be damned.” Seward adds, “This unexpected -speech broke up the club, which has never met since.” - -At Savannah, Charleston, and other southern cities, the Great Revival -had a remarkable success. Josiah Smith, an Independent minister of -Charleston, published a sermon on the character and preaching of -Whitefield, defending his doctrines, his personal character, and -describing his manner of preaching. Of Whitefield’s power he says: “He -is certainly a finished preacher; a noble negligence ran through his -style; the passion and flame of his inspiration will, I trust, be long -felt by many. How was his tongue like the pen of a ready writer, touched -as with a coal from the altar! With what a flow of words, what a ready -profusion of language did he speak to us upon the concerns of our souls! -In what a flaming light did he set _our_ eternity before us! How -earnestly he pressed Christ upon us! The awe, the silence, the -attention, which sat upon the faces of the great audience was an -argument, how he could reign over all their powers. Many thought he -spake as never man spake before him. So charmed were the people with the -manner of his address that they shut up their shops, forgot their -secular business, and the oftener he preached the keener edge he seemed -to put upon their desires to hear him again. How awfully—with what -thunder and sound—did he discharge the artillery of heaven upon us! -Eternal themes, the tremendous solemnities of our religion were all -alive upon his tongue. He struck at the politest and most modish of our -vices, and at the most fashionable entertainments, regardless of every -one’s presence but His in whose name he spake with this authority. And I -dare warrant if none should go to these diversions until they had -answered the solemn questions he put to their consciences, our theatres -would soon sink and perish.” Mr. Smith adds that £600 were contributed -in Charleston to the orphan house. - -The wonderful quickening which the Great Revival gave to benevolent and -charitable enterprises deserves at least a passing allusion. Besides -sending forth into mission work such men as David Brainerd, and even -Jonathan Edwards himself, it also laid the foundation more securely of -many of our Christian colleges, and of not a few of our orphan asylums. -Whitefield founded his Bethesda upon a tract of land covering about 500 -acres, ten miles from Savannah, and laid out the plan of the building, -employed workmen, hired a large house, took in 24 orphans, incurred at -once the heavy responsibilities of a large family and a larger -institution, encouraged, as he says, by the example of Professor -Francke. Yet on looking back to this first undertaking he said: “I -forgot that Professor Francke built in a populous country and that I was -building at the very tail end of the world, which rendered it by far the -most expensive part of all his Majesty’s dominions; but had I received -more and ventured less, I should have suffered less and others more.” He -undertook to provide for his 40 orphans and 60 servants and workmen with -no fears nor misgivings of heart. “Near a hundred mouths,” he writes, -“are daily to be supplied with food. The expense is great, but our great -and good God, I am persuaded, will enable me to defray it.” He spent a -winter at Bethesda in 1764, and of the success of his orphanage he says, -“Peace and plenty reign at Bethesda; all things go on successfully. God -has given me great favour in the sight of the governor, council, and -assembly. A memorial was presented for an additional grant of land -consisting of about 2,000 acres, and was immediately complied with. -Every heart seems to leap for joy at the prospect of its future utility -to this and the neighbouring colonies.” - -This great religious movement did not progress without stirring up much -bitterness. It was even asserted by President Clap, of New Haven, that -he came into New England to turn out the generality of their ministers, -and to replace them with ministers from England, Ireland, and Scotland. -“Such a thought,” replies Whitefield, “never entered my heart, neither -has, as I know of, my preaching any such tendency.” It is said of one -minister that he went merely to pick a hole in Whitefield’s coat, but -confessed that God picked a hole in his heart, and afterward healed it -by the blood of Christ. After one of his visits not less than twenty -ministers in the neighbourhood of Boston did not hesitate to call -Whitefield their spiritual father, tracing their conversion to his -preaching. These men immediately entered upon a similar work, spreading -the great awakening throughout that colony. - -In the progress of this work under Whitefield and others, there were -frequent outbursts of wit and grim humor. Thus when pastors were shy of -giving Whitefield and his associates a place in their pulpits and the -people voted to allow them to preach in their churches, Whitefield said, -“The _lord_-brethren of New England could tyrannize as well as the -_lord_-bishops of Old England.” The caricatures issued from Boston in -regard to the work were designated as half-penny squibs; and a good old -Puritan of the city said, “they did not weigh much.” - -Of the religion of America Whitefield writes: “I am more and more in -love with the good old Puritans. I am pleased at the thought of sitting -down hereafter with the venerable Cotton, Norton, Eliot, and that great -cloud of witnesses who first crossed the western ocean for the sake of -the sacred gospel and the faith once delivered to the saints. At present -my soul is so filled that I can scarce proceed.” Again he writes: “It is -too much for one man to be received as I have been by thousands. The -thoughts of it lay me low but I cannot get low enough. I would willingly -sink into nothing before the blessed Jesus—my all in all.” And again, “I -love those that thunder out the Word. The Christian world is in a deep -sleep, nothing but a loud voice can awaken them out of it. Had we a -thousand hands and tongues there is employment enough for them all. -People are everywhere ready to perish for lack of knowledge.” To an aged -veteran he writes from North Carolina, “I am here hunting in the -woods—these ungospelized wilds—for sinners. It is pleasant work, though -my body is weak and crazy. But after a short fermentation in the grave, -it will be fashioned like unto Christ’s glorious body. The thought of -this rejoices my soul and makes me long to leap my seventy years. I -sometimes think all will go to heaven before me. Pray for me as a dying -man, but, oh, pray that I may not go off as a snuff. I would fain die -blazing—not with human glory, but with the love of Jesus.” Such was the -spirit filling the great souls of those who were God’s instruments in -spreading the revival in America. Mr. Whitefield died at Newburyport, -Massachusetts, Sept. 30, 1770, having preached the day before at Exeter, -and his body rests in a crypt or tomb beneath the Presbyterian church at -that place. - -Of the effects of the Great Revival in America, Dr. Abel Stevens says, -“The Congregational churches of New England, the Presbyterians and -Baptists of the Middle States, and the mixed colonies of the South, owe -their late religious life and energy mostly to the impulse given by his -[Whitefield’s] powerful ministrations.” * * * In Pennsylvania and New -Jersey, where Frelinghuysen, Blair, Rowland, and the two Tennents had -been labouring with evangelistic zeal, he was received as a prophet of -God, and it was then that the Presbyterian Church took that attitude of -evangelical power and aggression which has ever since characterized it. - -A single incident will illustrate the effect of the Revival upon -unbelievers and skeptics. A noted officer of Philadelphia, who had long -been almost an atheist, crept into the crowd one night to hear a sermon -on the visit of Nicodemus to Christ. When he came home, his wife not -knowing where he had been, wished he had heard what she had been -hearing. He said nothing. Another and another of his family came in and -made a similar remark till he burst into tears and said, “I have been -hearing him and approve of his sermon.” He afterwards became a sincere -Christian with the spirit of a martyr. - -These etchings of a few scenes and fewer facts indicate the scope, the -depth, and the sweep of the Great Revival of the 18th century in -America. No attempt has been made to sum up its results, nor has it come -within the purpose of this work to give an inward history of the -movement, nor to explain the philosophy of it. These intricate questions -may be left to philosophers; the Christian delights to know the facts; -he will cheerfully wait for the future life to unfold all the mystery -and philosophy of the plan and work of salvation. Then, as Whitefield -exclaims, “What amazing mysteries will be unfolded when each link in the -golden chain of providence and grace shall be seen and scanned by -beatified spirits in the kingdom of heaven! Then all will appear -symmetry and harmony, and even the most intricate and seemingly most -contrary dispensations, will be evidenced to be the result of infinite -and consummate wisdom, power, and love. Above all, there the believer -will see the infinite depths of that mystery of godliness, ‘God -manifested in the flesh,’ and join with that blessed choir, who, with a -restless unweariedness, are ever singing the song of Moses and the -Lamb.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - -------------- - - - APPENDIX A (PAGES 9 AND 97). - -The Puritans were men whose minds had derived a peculiar character from -the daily contemplation of superior beings and eternal interests. Not -content with acknowledging, in general terms, an overruling Providence, -they habitually ascribed every event to the will of the Great Being, for -whose power nothing was too vast, for whose inspection nothing was too -minute. To know him, to serve him, to enjoy him, was, with them, the -great end of existence. They rejected, with contempt, the ceremonious -homage which other sects substituted for the pure worship of the soul. -Instead of catching occasional glimpses of the Deity through an -obscuring veil, they aspired to gaze full on his intolerable brightness, -and to commune with him face to face. Hence originated their contempt -for terrestrial distinctions. The difference between the greatest and -the meanest of mankind seemed to vanish, when compared with the -boundless interval which separated the whole race from Him on whom their -own eyes were constantly fixed. They recognized no title to superiority -but His favor; and, confident of that favor, they despised all the -accomplishments and all the dignities of the world. If they were -unacquainted with the works of philosophers and poets, they were deeply -read in the oracles of God. If their names were not found in the -registers of heralds, they were recorded in the Book of Life. If their -steps were not accompanied by a splendid train of menials, legions of -ministering angels had charge over them. Their palaces were houses not -made with hands; their diadems crowns of glory which should never fade -away. On the rich and the eloquent, on nobles or priests they looked -down with contempt, for they esteemed themselves rich in a more precious -measure, and eloquent in a more sublime language—nobles by right of an -earlier creation, and priests by the imposition of a mightier hand. The -very meanest of them was a being to whose fate a mysterious and terrible -importance belonged, on whose slightest action the spirits of light and -darkness looked with anxious interest, who had been destined, before -Heaven and earth were created, to enjoy a felicity which should continue -when heaven and earth should have passed away. Events which -short-sighted politicians ascribed to earthly causes, had been ordained -on his account. For his sake empires had risen, and flourished, and -decayed. For his sake the Almighty had proclaimed His will by the pen of -the Evangelist, and the harp of the prophet. He had been wrested by no -common deliverer from the grasp of no common foe. He had been ransomed -by the sweat of no vulgar agony, by the blood of no earthly sacrifice. -It was for him that the sun had been darkened, that the rocks had been -rent, that the dead had risen, that all nature had shuddered at the -sufferings of her expiring God. - -Thus the Puritan was made up of two different men: the one all -self-abasement, penitence, gratitude, passion; the other proud, calm, -inflexible, sagacious. He prostrated himself in the dust before his -Maker, but he set his foot on the neck of his king. In his devotional -retirement, he prayed with convulsions, and groans and tears. He was -half maddened by glorious or terrible illusions. He heard the lyres of -angels or the tempting whispers of fiends. He caught a gleam of the -Beatific Vision, or woke screaming from dreams of everlasting fire. Like -Vane, he thought himself entrusted with the sceptre of the millennial -year. Like Fleetwood, he cried in the bitterness of his soul that God -had hid His face from him. But when he took his seat in the council, or -girt on his sword for war, these tempestuous workings of the soul had -left no perceptible trace behind them. People who saw nothing of the -godly but their uncouth visages, and heard nothing from them but their -groans and their whining hymns, might laugh at them. But those had -little reason to laugh who encountered them in the hall of debate, or on -the field of battle. These fanatics brought to civil and military -affairs a coolness of judgment and an immutability of purpose which some -writers have thought inconsistent with their religious zeal, but which -were in fact the necessary effects of it. The intensity of their -feelings on one subject made them tranquil on every other. One -overpowering sentiment had subjected to itself pity and hatred, ambition -and fear. Death had lost its terrors and pleasure its charms. They had -their smiles and their tears, their raptures and their sorrows, but not -for the things of this world. Enthusiasm had made them stoics, had -cleared their minds from every vulgar passion and prejudice, and raised -them above the influence of danger and of corruption. It sometimes might -lead them to pursue unwise ends, but never to choose unwise means. They -went through the world, like Sir Artegal’s iron man Talus with his -flail, crushing and trampling down oppressors, mingling with human -beings, but having neither part nor lot in human infirmities, insensible -to fatigue, to pleasure, and to pain, not to be pierced by any weapon, -not to be withstood by any barrier.—_Macaulay’s Essay on Milton._ - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX B (PAGE 21). - -“‘The Vicar of Wakefield’ is a domestic epic. Its hero is a country -parson—simple, pious and pure-hearted—a humourist in his way, a little -vain of his learning, a little proud of his fine family—sometimes rather -sententious, never pedantic, and a dogmatist only on the one favorite -topic of monogamy, which crops out now and then above the surface of his -character, only to give it a new charm. Its world is a rural district, -beyond whose limits the action rarely passes, and that only on great -occasions. Domestic affections and joys, relieved by its cares, its -foibles, and its little failings, cluster around the parsonage, till the -storms from the outward world invade its holiness and trouble its peace. -Then comes sorrow and suffering; and we have the hero, like the -patriarchal prince of the land of Uz, when the Lord ‘put forth His hand -and touched all that He had,’ meeting each new affliction with meekness -and with patience—rising from each new trial with renewed reliance upon -God, till the lowest depth of his earthly suffering becomes the highest -elevation of his moral strength.” - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX C (PAGE 28). - -The most interesting phases which the Reformation anywhere assumes, -especially for us English, is that of Puritanism. In Luther’s own -country, Protestantism soon dwindled into a rather barren affair, not a -religion or faith, but rather now a theological jangling of argument, -the proper seat of it not the heart; the essence of it skeptical -contention; which, indeed, has jangled more and more, down to Voltairism -itself; through Gustavus Adolphus contentions onward to -French-Revolution cries! But on our island there arose a Puritanism, -which even got itself established as a Presbyterianism and national -church among the Scotch; which came forth as a real business of the -heart; and has produced in the world very notable fruit. In some senses -one may say it is the only phase of Protestantism that ever got to the -rank of being a faith, a true communication with Heaven, and of -exhibiting itself in history as such. We must spare a few words for -Knox; himself a brave and remarkable man; but still more important as -chief priest and founder, which one may consider him to be, of the faith -that became Scotland’s, New England’s, Oliver Cromwell’s. History will -have something to say about this for some time to come! - -We may censure Puritanism as we please; and no one of us, I suppose, but -would find it a very rough, defective thing; but we, and all men, may -understand that it was a genuine thing; for nature has adopted it, and -it has grown and grows. I say sometimes that all goes by wager of battle -in this world; that _strength_, well understood, is the measure of all -worth. Give a thing time; if it can succeed, it is a right thing. Look -now at American Saxondom; and at that little fact of the sailing of the -Mayflower, two hundred years ago, from Delft Haven, in Holland! Were we -of open sense, as the Greeks were, we had found a poem here; one of -nature’s own poems, such as she writes in broad facts over great -continents. For it was properly the beginning of America: there were -straggling settlers in America before, some material as of a body was -there; but the soul of it was first this. These poor men, driven out of -their own country, not able well to live in Holland, determined on -settling in the New World. Black, untamed forests are there, and wild, -savage creatures; but not so cruel as star-chamber hangmen. They thought -the earth would yield them food, if they tilled honestly; the -everlasting Heaven would stretch there, too, overhead; they should be -left in peace, to prepare for Eternity by living well in this world of -time; worshipping in what they thought the true, not the idolatrous way. -They clubbed their small means together; hired a ship, the little ship -Mayflower, and made ready to set sail. In _Neal’s History of the -Puritans_ is an account of the ceremony of their departure; solemnity, -we might call it, rather, for it was a real act of worship. Their -minister went down with them to the beach, and their brethren, whom they -were to leave behind; all joined in solemn prayer that God would have -pity on His poor children, and go with them into that waste wilderness, -for He also had made that, He was there also as well as here. Hah! These -men, I think, had a work! The weak thing, weaker than a child, becomes -strong one day, if it be a true thing. Puritanism was only despicable, -laughable then; but nobody can manage to laugh at it now. Puritanism has -got weapons and sinews; it has fire-arms, war navies; it has cunning in -its ten fingers, strength in its right arm: it can steer ships, fell -forests, remove mountains; it is one of the strongest things under this -sun at present!—_Carlyle on Heroes, Hero-worship and the Heroic in -History._ - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX D (PAGE 36). - -It has been said of Lady Huntingdon that “almost from infancy an -uncommon seriousness shaded the natural gladness of her childhood,” and -that, without any positive religious instruction, for none knew her -“inward sorrows,” when she was a “little girl, nor were there any around -her who could have led her to the balm there is in Gilead,” she devoutly -and diligently searched the Scriptures, if haply she might find that -precious something which her soul craved. - -During the first years of her married life (she was married at the age -of 21 and in the year 1728), “her chief endeavor * * * was to maintain a -conscience void of offense. She strove to fulfill the various duties of -her position with scrupulous exactness; she was sincere, just and -upright; she prayed, fasted and gave alms; she was courteous, -considerate and charitable.” - -Her husband, Lord Huntingdon, had a sister, Lady Margaret Hastings, who, -under the preaching of Mr. Ingham, in Ledstone Church in Yorkshire, was -converted. Afterwards, when visiting her brother, these words were -uttered by her: “Since I have known and believed in the Lord Jesus for -salvation, I have been as happy as an angel.” The expression was strange -to Lady Huntingdon—it alarmed her—she sought to work out a righteousness -of her own, but the effort only widened the breach between herself and -God. “Thus harassed by inward conflicts, Lady Huntingdon was thrown upon -a sick bed, and after many days and nights seemed hastening to the -grave. The fear of death fell terribly upon her.” - -In that condition the words of Lady Margaret recurred with a new -meaning. “I too will wholly cast myself on Jesus Christ for life and -salvation,” was her last refuge; and from her bed she lifted up her -heart to God for pardon and mercy through the blood of His Son. “Lord, I -believe; help Thou mine unbelief,” was her prayer. Doubt and distress -vanished and joy and peace filled her bosom.—_From “Lady Huntingdon and -her Friends.” Compiled by Mrs. Helen C. Knight._ - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX E (PAGE 71). - -“It is easier to justify the heads of the restored Clergy upon this -point [want of uniformity or unity in the Church of England], than to -excuse them for appropriating to themselves the wealth which, in -consequence of the long protracted calamities of the nation, was placed -at their disposal. The leases of the church lands had almost all fallen -in; there had been no renewal for twenty years, and the fines which were -now raised amounted to about a million and a half. Some of this money -was expended in repairing, as far as was reparable, that havoc in -churches and cathedrals which the fanatics had made in their abominable -reign; some also was disposed of in ransoming English slaves from the -Barbary pirates; but the greater part went to enrich individuals and -build up families, instead of being employed, as it ought to have been, -in improving the condition of the inferior clergy. Queen Anne applied -the tenths and first fruits to this most desirable object; but the -effect of her augmentation was slow and imperceptible: they continued in -a state of degrading poverty, and that poverty was another cause of the -declining influence of the Church, and the increasing irreligion of the -people. - -A further cause is to be found in the relaxation of discipline. In the -Romish days it had been grossly abused; and latterly also it had been -brought into general abhorrence and contempt by the tyrannical measures -of Laud on one side, and the absurd vigor of Puritanism on the other. -The clergy had lost that authority which may always command at least the -appearance of respect; and they had lost that respect also by which the -place of authority may sometimes so much more worthily be supplied. For -the loss of power they were not censurable; but if they possessed little -of that influence which the minister who diligently and conscientiously -discharges his duty will certainly acquire, it is manifest that, as a -body, they must have been culpably remiss. From the Restoration to the -accession of the House of Hanover, the English Church could boast of -some of its brightest ornaments and ablest defenders; men who have -neither been surpassed in piety, nor in erudition, nor in industry, nor -in eloquence, nor in strength and subtlety of mind: and when the design -for re-establishing popery in these kingdoms was systematically pursued, -to them we are indebted for that calm and steady resistance, by which -our liberties, civil as well as religious, were preserved. But in the -great majority of the clergy zeal was awanting. The excellent Leighton -spoke of the Church as a fair carcass without a spirit; in doctrine, in -worship, and in the main part of its government, he thought it the best -constituted in the world, but one of the most corrupt in its -administration. And Burnet observes, that in his time our clergy had -less authority, and were under more contempt, than those of any other -church in Europe; for they were much the most remiss in their labors, -and the least severe in their lives. It was not that their lives were -scandalous; he entirely acquitted them of any such imputation; but they -were not exemplary as it became them to be: and in the sincerity and -grief of a pious and reflecting mind, he pronounced that they should -never regain the influence which they had lost, till they lived better -and labored more.”—_Southey’s Life of Wesley._ - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX F (PAGES 73 AND 98). - -“The observant Frenchman to whom we have several times referred, M. -Grosley, says of the ‘sect of the Methodists,’ ‘this establishment has -borne all the persecutions that it could possibly apprehend in a country -as much disposed to persecution as England is the reverse.’ The light -literature of forty years overflows with ridicule of Methodism. The -preachers are pelted by the mob; the converts are held up to execration -as fanatics or hypocrites. Yet Methodism held the ground it had gained. -It had gone forth to utter the words of truth to men little above the -beasts that perish, and it had brought them to regard themselves, as -akin to humanity. The time would come when its earnestness would awaken -the Church itself from its somnolency, and the educated classes would -not be ashamed to be religious. There was wild enthusiasm enough in some -of the followers of Whitefield and Wesley; much self seeking; zeal -verging upon profaneness; moral conduct, strongly opposed to pious -profession. But these earnest men left a mark upon their time which can -never be effaced. The obscure young students at Oxford in 1736, who were -first called ‘Sacramentarians,’ then ‘Bible moths,’ and finally -‘Methodists, to whom the regular pulpits were closed, and who went forth -to preach in the fields—who separated from the Church more in form than -in reality—produced a moral revolution in England which probably saved -us from the fate of nations wholly abandoned to their own -devices.”—_From Knight’s History of England._ - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX (PAGES 97 AND 98). - (_See Appendix A and F._) - - -------------- - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX (PAGE 114). - -“The ‘two brothers in song’ (John and Charles Wesley) began their issue -of ‘Hymns and Sacred Songs’ in 1739, and continued at intervals to -supply Christian singers for half a century. Thirty-eight publications -appeared one after the other: now under the name of one brother, now -under that of the other; some with both names, and others nameless. The -two hymnists appear to have agreed that, in the volumes which bore their -joint names, they would not distinguish their hymns.”—_The Epworth -Singers and other poets of Methodism, by the Rev. S. W. Christophers, -Redruth, Cornwall._ - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX (NOTE, PAGE 118). - - The God of Abraham praise, - Who reigns enthron’d above; - Ancient of everlasting days, - And God of love: - Jehovah—great I Am— - By earth and Heavens confest; - I bow and bless the sacred name, - For ever bless’d. - - The God of Abraham praise, - At whose supreme command - From earth I rise, and seek the joys - At His right hand: - I all on earth forsake, - Its wisdom, fame and power, - And Him my only portion make, - My Shield and Tower. - - The God of Abraham praise, - Whose all-sufficient grace - Shall guide me all my happy days, - In all my ways: - He calls a worm His friend! - He calls Himself my God! - And He shall save me to the end, - Thro’ Jesus’ blood. - - He by Himself hath sworn! - I on His oath depend, - I shall, on eagle’s wings up-borne, - To Heaven ascend; - I shall behold His face, - I shall His power adore, - And sing the wonders of His grace - For evermore. - - Tho’ nature’s strength decay, - And earth and hell withstand, - To Canaan’s bounds I urge my way - At His command: - The wat’ry deep I pass, - With Jesus in my view; - And thro’ the howling wilderness - My way pursue. - - The goodly land I see, - With peace and plenty bless’d; - A land of sacred liberty, - And endless rest. - There milk and honey flow, - And oil and wine abound, - And trees of life forever grow, - With mercy crown’d. - - There dwells the Lord our King, - The Lord our Righteousness, - Triumphant o’er the world and sin, - The Prince of Peace; - On Sion’s sacred heights - His Kingdom still maintains; - And glorious with the saints in light, - Forever reigns. - - He keeps His own secure, - He guards them by His side, - Arrays in garments white and pure - His spotless bride. - With streams of sacred bliss, - With groves of living joys, - With all the fruits of Paradise - He still supplies. - - Before the great Three—One - They all exulting stand; - And tell the wonders He hath done, - Thro’ all their land: - The list’ning spheres attend, - And swell the growing fame; - And sing, in songs which never end, - The wondrous name. - - The God who reigns on high, - The great Archangels sing, - And “Holy, holy, holy,” cry, - Almighty King! - Who was, and is, the same! - And evermore shall be; - Jehovah—Father—great I Am! - We worship Thee. - - Before the Saviour’s face - The ransom’d nations bow; - O’erwhelmed at His Almighty grace, - Forever new: - He shows His prints of love— - They kindle—to a flame! - And sound through all the worlds above, - The slaughter’d Lamb. - - The whole triumphant host - Give thanks to God on high; - “Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!” - They ever cry: - Hail, Abraham’s God—and _mine_! - I join the heavenly lays, - All might and majesty are Thine, - And endless praise. - -Thomas Olivers, the author of the above hymn, lived to see the issue of -at least thirty editions of it. - - - -------------- - - - APPENDIX (PAGE 118). - THE LAST JUDGMENT. - BY THOMAS OLIVERS. - - Come, immortal King of Glory, - Now in Majesty appear, - Bid the nations stand before Thee, - Each his final doom to hear, - - Come to judgment, - Come, Lord Jesus, quickly come. - - Speak the word, and lo! all nature - Flies before Thy glorious face, - Angels sing your great Creator, - Saints proclaim His sovereign grace, - While ye praise Him, - Lift your heads and see Him come. - - See His beauty all resplendent, - View Him in His glory shine, - See His majesty transcendent, - Seated on His throne sublime: - Angels praise Him, - Saints and angels praise the Lamb. - - Shout aloud, ye heavenly choirs, - Trumpet forth Jehovah’s praise; - Trumpets, voices, hearts and lyres! - Speak the wonders of His grace! - Sound before Him - Endless praises to His name. - - Ransom’d sinners, see His ensign - Waving thro’ the purpled air! - ‘Midst ten thousand lightnings daring, - Jesus’ praises to declare; - How tremendous - Is this dreadful, joyful day. - - Crowns and sceptres fall before Him, - Kings and conquerors own His sway, - Fearless potentates are trembling, - While they see His lightnings play: - How triumphant - Is the world’s Redeemer now. - - Noon-day beauty in its lustre - Doth in Jesus’ aspect shine, - Blazing comets are not fiercer - Than the flaming eyes Divine: - O, how dreadful - Doth the Crucified appear. - - Hear His voice as mighty thunder, - Sounding in eternal roar! - Far surpassing many waters - Echoing wide from shore to shore: - Hear His accents - Through th’ unfathom’d deep resound: - - “Come,” He saith, “ye heirs of glory, - Come, the purchase of my blood; - Bless’d ye are, and bless’d ye shall be, - Now ascend the mount of God; - Angels guard them - To the realms of endless day.” - - See ten thousand flaming seraphs - From their thrones as lightnings fly; - “Take,” they cry, “your seats above us, - Nearest Him who rules the sky: - Favorite sinners, - How rewarded are you now!” - - Haste and taste celestial pleasure; - Haste and reap immortal joys; - Haste and drink the crystal river; - Lift on high your choral voice, - While archangels - Shout aloud the great Amen. - - But the angry Lamb’s determin’d - Every evil to descry; - They who have His love rejected - Shall before His vengeance fly, - When He drives them - To their everlasting doom. - - Now, in awful expectation, - See the countless millions stand; - Dread, dismay, and sore vexation, - Seize the helpless, hopeless band; - Baleful thunders, - Stop and hear Jehovah’s voice! - - “Go from me,” He saith, “ye cursed— - Ye for whom I bled in vain— - Ye who have my grace refused— - Hasten to eternal pain!” - How victorious - Is the conquering _Son of Man_! - - See, in solemn pomp ascending, - Jesus and His glorious train; - Countless myriads now attend Him, - Rising to th’ imperial plain; - Hallelujah! - To the bless’d Immanuel’s name! - - In full triumph see them marching - Through the gates of massy light; - While the city walls are sparkling - With meridian’s glory bright; - How stupendous - Are the glories of the Lamb! - - On His throne of radiant azure, - High above all heights He reigns— - Reigns amidst immortal pleasure, - While refulgent glory flames; - How diffusive - Shines the golden blaze around! - - All the heavenly powers adore Him, - Circling round his orient seat; - Ransom’d saints with angels vying, - Loudest praises to repeat; - How exalted - Is His praise, and how profound! - - Every throne and every mansion, - All ye heavenly arches ring; - Echo to the Lord salvation, - Glory to our glorious King! - Boundless praises - All ye heavenly orbs resound. - - Praise be to the Father given, - Praise to the Incarnate Son, - Praise the Spirit, one and Seven, - Praise the mystic Three in One; - Hallelujah! - Everlasting praise be Thine! - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX (PAGE 120). - ROCK OF AGES—IN LATIN. - BY W. E. GLADSTONE. - - Jesus, pro me perforatus, - Condar intra Tuum latus, - Tu per lympham profluentem, - Tu per sanguinem tepentem, - In peccata me redunda, - Tolle culpam, sordes munda. - - Coram Te, nec justus forem - Quamvis totâ si laborem, - Nec si fide nunquam cesso, - Fletu stillans indefesso: - Tibi soli tantum munus; - Salva me, Salvator unus! - - Nil in manu mecum fero, - Sed me versus crucem gero; - Vestimenta nudus oro, - Opem debilis imploro; - Fontem Christi quæro immundus - Nisi laves, moribundus. - - Dum hos artus vita regit; - Quando nox sepulchro tegit; - Mortuos cum stare jubes, - Sedens Judex inter nubes; - Jesus, pro me perforatus, - Condar intra Tuum latus. - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX (PAGE 236). - -From the “Memoirs of Howard, compiled from his diary, his confidential -letters, and other authentic documents, by James Baldwin Brown,” it -appears that in the year 1755, on a voyage to Portugal, the vessel in -which he was, was captured by a French privateer, and carried into -Brest, where he and the other passengers, along with the crew, were cast -into a filthy dungeon, and there kept a considerable time without -nourishment. There they lay for six days and nights. The floor, with -nothing but straw upon it, was their sleeping place. He was afterwards -removed to Morlaix, and thence to Carpaix, where he was two months upon -parole. At the latter place “he corresponded with the English prisoners -at Brest, Morlaix and Dinnan; and had sufficient evidence of their being -treated with such barbarity that many hundreds had perished; and that -thirty-six were buried in a hole at Dinnan in one day.” - -Through his benevolent and timely interference on their behalf, when he -himself had regained his freedom, the prisoners of war in these three -prisons were released and sent home to England in the first cartel -ships. - -Till the year 1773 it does not appear that he was actively engaged in -any philanthropic work on behalf of prisoners. In the year 1730 there -had been a commission of enquiry in the House of Commons on the state of -prisons, and condition of their inmates, but nothing seems to have -followed from it, and it was not till March, 1774, when Howard received -the thanks of the House for the information which, he communicated to -them on the subject, that the great work assumed shape. In 1773, having -been appointed sheriff of Bedford, the distress of prisoners came under -his notice. He engaged himself in a most minute inspection, and the -consequence was the devotion of every faculty of his existence to the -correction of the abuses existing in similar institutions as the friend -of those who had no friend. - -In that Christlike work he continued till his death, on 20th January, -1790, at Cherson, Russian Tartary, having in the meantime inspected -prisons in England, Scotland and Ireland, France, Holland, Flanders, -Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Sweden, Poland, Portugal, Spain, the -Netherlands, Malta, Turkey, Prussia and Russia. - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX (PAGE 253). - -At Michaelmas time, 1791, Mr. Buchanan was admitted a member of Queen’s -College, Cambridge, having left London on the 24th October. He was then -25 years of age. In consequence of a letter from his mother he attended -the preaching of John Newton, with whom he kept up a correspondence when -at college. In one of his replies to Mr. Newton he wrote: “You ask me -whether I would prefer preaching the Gospel to the fame of learning? Ay, -that would I, gladly, were I convinced it was the will of God, that I -should depart this night for Nova Zembla, or the Antipodes, to testify -of Him. I would not wait for an admit or a college exit.” Some time in -the year 1794, the first proposal appears to have been made to him to go -out to India, and on this occasion he wrote Mr. Newton, saying, “I have -only time to say, that with respect to my going to India, I must decline -giving an opinion. * * * It is with great pleasure I submit this matter -to the determination of yourself and Mr. Thornton and Mr. Grant. All I -wish to ascertain is the will of God.” In a subsequent letter he wrote, -“I am equally ready to preach the Gospel in the next village, or at the -end of the earth.” - -After taking his degree of B.A., he was ordained a deacon by the Bishop -of London on 20th September, 1795, when he became Mr. Newton’s curate, -which he held till March, 1796, when he was appointed one of the -chaplains to the East India Company. Soon after, he received priest’s -orders, and on 11th August, 1796, sailed from Portsmouth, England, for -Calcutta, where he landed 10th March, 1797. In May following he -proceeded to the military station of Barackpore. But it was not till the -beginning of the present century that he fairly developed his plans for -the extension of the Redeemer’s Kingdom in India.—_From Memoirs of Rev. -Claudius Buchanan._ - - - -------------- - - APPENDIX (PAGE 254). - -In the month of September, 1794, a paper was published in the -_Evangelical Magazine_, urging the formation of a mission to the heathen -on the broadest possible basis. The writer of that paper was the Rev. -David Bogue, D.D., of Gosport, Hampshire, and two months after its -appearance a conference, attended by representatives from several -Evangelical bodies, was held to take action in the matter. The result -was an address to ministers and members of various churches, and the -appointment of a committee to diffuse information upon the subject. -Thereafter, and in September, 1795, a large and influential meeting, -extending over three days, at which the Rev. Dr. Harris preached from -Mark xv: 16, and the Rev. J. Burder and the Rev. Rowland Hill and many -others took part. At that meeting the society was formed, and it was -resolved, with reference to its agents and their converts, “That it -should be entirely left with those whom God might call into the -fellowship of His Son among them, to assume for themselves such a form -of church government as to them shall appear most agreeable to the Word -of God.” - -The Rev. David Bogue, D.D., has therefore well been styled “the father -and founder” of the institution. - - - -------------- - - - - - APPENDIX (PAGE 256). - -At a meeting held in Leeds, 5th October, 1813, it was resolved to -constitute a society to be called “The Methodist Missionary Society for -the Leeds District,” of which branches were to be formed in the several -circuits, whose duty it should be to collect subscriptions in behalf of -missions and to remit them to an already existing committee in London. -It was from this point that, by general consent, the origin of the -Wesleyan Missionary Society is reckoned. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - INDEX. - - - Academy, Doddridge’s, 29 - Lady Huntingdon’s, 257 - - Aftermath, 260 - - Age before the Revival, The 32 - - Albert, Prince, 120 - - Alleine, Rev. Joseph, 197 - - Allen, Ebenezer, Governor of Martha’s Vineyard, 226 - - America, Awakening in, 28, 73, 85, 281 - - American Baptist Missionary Union, 256 - - American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, 255, 256 - - American Revival, 28, 73, 85, 281 - Sunday-school Union, 256 - - Amusements, 15 - - Anabaptists, 52 - - Ancaster, Duchess of 37, 41 - - - Anecdotes, 17–20, 37, 39, 41, 52, 54, 56, 58, 60, 69, 70, 72, 76, - 82–84, 87, 89, 94, 96, 100, 103, 109, 112, 113, 115, 116, 125, 129, - 130, 133–135, 137, 138, 140, 143–145, 148, 151, 153, 158, 159, 161, - 166, 172, 177, 183, 194, 198, 200, 202, 218, 234, 236, 239, 243, - 245, 247, 255, 256, 266, 288, 291, 293, 294, 298, 300, 301 - - Aram, Eugene, 147 - - Armenianism, 60 - - Arrests, 102 - - Atheism, Prevalence of, 15 - - Austrian Exiles, 28 - - - Baptist Missionary Society, 250 - Union, American, 256 - - Band-Meetings, etc., Origin of, 100 - - Basle Evangelical Mission, 256 - - Baynham, James, 195 - - Baxter, Richard, 266 - - Benson, Bishop, 69, 70 - - Bernard of Clairvaux, 114 - Cluny, 114 - - Berridge, John, 150, 157, 169, 177, 270 - - Bible, The, the Power of God, 7, 279, 286 - Reverenced, 277 - Translated for India, 253 - - Bible Society, The 186, 189, 191, 256 - - Blomfield, Bishop, 18 - - Bloomfield, 197 - - Blossoms in the Wilderness, 180 - - Bogue, David, 254, 257, 320 - - Bolingbroke, Lord, 41, 60, 180 - - Borlase, Dr., 102 - - Boston in 1730, 232 - Elm, 275 - State of Society in, 282 - - Bradford, Joseph, 138 - - Britain’s Obligations to Missions for India, 254 - - British and Foreign School Society, 256 - - _British Quarterly_, 52, 92 - - Brontë Family, 160 - - _Bruised Reed_, 266 - - Buchanan, Claudius, 178, 190, 253, 254, 319 - - Buckingham, Duchess of, 38, 39 - - Bunyan, John, 160 - - Burke, Edmund, 236 - - Butler, Bishop, 22 - - Byron, 117 - - - Calvin’s Institutes, 61 - - Calvinistic Methodists, 101 - - Campbell, John, 178, 190 - - Captains of Ships in 18th Century, 221, 224 - - Cardigan, Lady, 42 - - Carey, William, 250 - - Carlyle, Thomas, 28, 305 - - Cennick, John, 123 - - Chatsworth, 49 - - Cheerfulness and Joy Significant of Revival, 98, 99, 101, 109, 124 - - Chesterfield, Lord, 41, 180 - - Christian Remembrances, 123 - - “_Christian World Unmasked, The_; _Pray Come and Peep_,”, 158 - - Christianity, Effect of, 98, 185 - - Chrysostom, 52 - - Church of England, Evangelical Party in, 269 - Religion in, 15, 18, 233 - Disabilities against Members of, 258 - Opposition to Methodism, 99 - Opposition to Revival, 22, 70, 156, 159, 172, 270 - Southey on the Clergy of the, 308 - - Church Signs and Counter-signs, 99 - - Church’s, Rev. Thomas, Denunciation of Evil, 21 - - Chubbs, 180 - - Church Missionary Society, 255 - - City Road Chapel, 91 - - Clapham Sect, 184, 189, 191 - - Clarkson, Thomas, 190 - - Clergy, Corruption of, 18 - - Coates, Alexander, 153 - - Colman, Dr., Testimony of, 285 - - Colliers, The, 75 - - Collins, 180 - - Colston, Edward, 218 - - Colston’s School, Bristol, 218 - - Compton, Adam, 198 - - Congregationalism, 170 - - Controversialists of Revival, 117, 119 - - Conversions, 219, 234, 238, 258, 266, 267, 284, 290 - - Cornwall, 116, 131, 171 - - Cottage Visitation, 50 - - Cowper, William, 126, 178, 207, 211 - - Cradle of London Methodism, 91 - - Crime in 18th Century, 14, 16, 21, 242 - - Criminals, Condition of, 200, 237, 239, 244 - - Criminal Law in 18th Century, 14, 237, 242, 244, 247, 248, 259 - - - Danish Hymns, 131 - Missionary Society, 250 - - Darkness before Dawn, 7, 107 - - Dawn, First Streaks of, 24 - - Deaf and Dumb Asylum, 258 - - Defoe, 177, 216 - - Deism, Prevalence of, 15 - - Derby, Earl of, 129 - - Dissenters, Disabilities of, 258 - - Dissent in, Boston, in 1730, 232 - - Divine authority of the New Testament, The, 255 - - Doddridge, Philip, 28, 31, 110, 113, 126, 267 - his Academy, 29 - his Friends, 36, 58 - his Hymns, 29 - - Drawing-Room Preaching, 37, 38, 40 - Effect of, 43 - - Drury Lane, 155 - - Dying Words, 169, 261, 262, 300 - - - East India Company, 191 - - Economy of Charity, 210 - - _Edinburgh Review_, 69, 184, 253 - - Education, Neglect of, 16 - Spreading, 257 - - Edwards, Jonathan, 28, 275, 283, 296 - - Effect of Rejection of Gospel, 7 - - Eighteenth Century Revival, 9, 277 - - Emerson, quoted, 12 - - England and France Contrasted, 23, 180 - - England, State of Religion in, 23 - - Epitaphs, 156, 197, 212, 268 - - Episcopal Board of Missions, Methodist, 256 - Protestant, 256 - - Epworth, 43, 53, 94, 97 - - Essays on Ecclesiastical Biography, 184 - - Everton, 156 - - Excitement of the Revival, 68 - - Executions at Tyburn in 1738, 14 - - Exiles in England, 28 - - Experiences of Christians expressed in Song, 128 - - Eyre, Jane, 160 - - - Fair-Preaching, 83 - - Fenwick, Michael, 137 - - Ferrars, Lady, 40 - - Field-Preaching, 68, 89, 101, 104 - - First Day or Sunday-school Society, 256 - - Flaxley, 197 - - Fletcher of Madsley, 149 - - Florence, 7 - - Foote, the Actor, 154 - - Founders of London Missionary Society, 254 - - Foundry, The Moorfields, 91 - - France, 7, 180 - - Free Church of England, 101 - - French Protestants in England, 25 - - Fry, Elizabeth, 237, 258, 278 - - - Gambold, John, 50, 64 - - Garrick, David, 155, 172 - - George II, 181 - - George IV, 158 - - Gerhardt, Paul, 113 - - German Empire, 7 - Hymns, 131 - - Germain, Lady Betty, 41 - - Gisborne, Thomas, 192 - - Gladstone, W. E., 119, 317 - - Gloucestershire, 183, 193, 213 - - God’s Method of Diffusing the Truth, 12, 13 - - Goethe, 28, 305 - - Goldsmith, 21 - - Gospel Preached in Song, 114 - - Grant, James, 126 - Sir Robert, 192 - - Gregory, Alfred, 196 - - Greenfield, Edward, 102 - - Griggs, Joseph, 126 - - Grimshaw, William, 160, 169, 178, 270 - - Guthrie, Dr., 158 - - Gwennap Pit, 103, 275 - - - Haime, John, 151 - - Hamilton, Duchess of, 41 - Lady Elizabeth, 243 - Sir William, 179 - - Hardcastle, Joseph, 191 - - Hardships, 221 - - Harris, Howell, 272 - - Harvard College, Religion in, 285 - - Hastings, Lady Margaret, 170, 171 - - Haweis, Thomas, 254 - - Haworth, 160 - - Haymarket Theatre, 154 - - Helmsley, 119 - - Herbert, George, 110 - - Hervey, James, 50, 57, 60 - Writings, 63 - - Hey, James (Old Jemmie o’ the Hey), 198 - - Hill, Rowland, 120, 159, 170, 254 - - Holy Club, The, 51, 54, 57, 60, 65, 170 - Spirit, The, the Power, 85 - - Hooper, John, 195 - - Hopper, Christopher, 151 - - Horne, Dr., 66 - - Hospitality in New England, 225, 229, 231 - - Hostility to Revival, 21, 32, 61, 77, 288 - - Howard, John, 236, 318 - - Hymns, 115, 118, 119, 122, 125–130, 203, 311, 313 - Character of, 127, 131 - Influence of, 98, 99, 101, 109, 112, 129 - of Doddridge, 29, 110 - of Watts, 29, 31, 110 - of Wesley, 112 - - Hymnists of the Revival, 109, 121, 123, 126, 192 - - Huddersfield, 169 - - Huguenots, The, 24, 98 - Descendants in England, 26 - Influence on Revival, 26 - Settlement in England, 26 - - Huntingdon, Lady, 20, 35, 46, 50, 64, 66, 69, 91, 101, 124, 135, 143, - 148, 155, 159, 169, 172, 183, 254, 257, 261, 307 - - Huntingdon, William, 276 - - Hupton, Job, 127 - - - Independents, 256 - - Indians, Cause of, Espoused by Whitefield, 290 - - Ingham, Benjamin, 50, 170 - - Itinerancy, by Wesley, 93 - - Itinerant Preachers, 116, 160 - - - Jay, William, 184 - - Jenner, Dr. Edward, 195 - - Johnson, Samuel, 55 - - Joss, Toriel, 149 - - Juvenal, 52 - - - Kempis, Thomas à., 55, 59 - - Kingsbury, William, 254 - - Kirk, John, Author of “Mother of the Wesleys”, 44 - - - Lackington, 154 - - Lancashire, 131 - Independent College, 257 - - Lanterns, New Lights and Old, 48 - - Lavington, Bishop, 70 - - Law, William, 53 - - Lay Preaching, 132, 136, 139, 147–149, 151 - - Lecky on the Effect of the Revival, 10 - - Lee, Jesse, 275 - - Literature, State of, at beginning of 18th Century. How Affected by - Revival, 16, 269 - - Livingstone, 255 - - Local Preachers, 136 - Wesley’s Reasons for, 136 - - London Missionary Society, 191, 254, 255, 319 - - Love of Souls, 101, 185, 186, 281 - - Luther, 7, 57, 110, 114, 179 - - Lyttleton, Lord, 17, 40, 42 - - - Macaulay, 86, 97, 99, 189 - Tribute to Puritans, 9, 97, 303–305 - - McOwan, Peter, 130 - - Mann, Sir Horace, 40 - - Mansfield, Lord, 172 - - Marlborough, Duchess of, 37, 39, 42 - - Marshman and Ward, 253 - - Martyrs, 195 - - Maxfield, Thomas, 115, 134 - - Melcombe, Lord, 42 - - Methodism, 182, 257, 275, 278 - in New England, 275 - - Methodists acknowledged, 177, 256 - and Puritans Compared, 98 - - Methodists and Quakers, 278 - - Methodist Band-Meetings, etc., 100 - - Methodist Episcopal Missionary Society, 256 - - Methodists, Beginning of, 45, 52, 80, 91 - Calvinistic and Wesleyan, 101 - - Methodists, Creed of, 100 - Early, 98, 102, 309 - Effect of, 35, 129 - Efforts of Earliest, 257 - Expelled from Oxford, 66 - Growth of, 40, 170 - in United States, 275 - Held as Opposed to Church of England, 66, 70, 94, 99 - Hymnals, 32 - Manifestations of, 85 - Origin of Name, 52, 60, 309 - Regarded as Enemies, 21, 70, 94, 99, 139, 143, 144, 233, 309 - - Methodists, Sects of, 276 - - Middleton, 180 - - Milton, 110 - - _Minor, The_, 154 - - Mission Enterprises, 186, 250, 256 - to Africa, 191, 255 - to China, 255 - to India, 190, 253 - to Madagascar, 255 - to South Seas, 255 - - Missionary Societies, 250, 256, 320 - - Moffat, Robert, 191, 255 - - Molière, 155 - - Montague, Duchess of, 42 - - Montgomery, James, 118 - - Moorfields, London, 84, 91, 134, 149, 233 - - Morality at Beginning of 18th Century, 16 - - Moravians, The, 35, 64, 113, 170, 250, 256 - - More, Hannah, 178, 210 - - Morgan, 50 - - Mystery of Life, The, 65 - - - Napoleon at St. Helena, 255 - - Nash, Beau, Overcome by Wesley, 87 - - Nelson, John, 139 - - Netherlands Missionary Society, 256 - - Newman, John Henry, 269 - - Newton, John, 123, 126, 149, 174, 190, 216, 217, 270 - - Noel, Baptist, 259 - - Nonconformists, Religion Among, 15 - - - Oliver, John, 115 - - Olivers, Thomas, 115, 125, 311, 313 - - One-eyed Christians, 183 - - Orphan Asylum in Georgia, 291, 296 - - Oxford, 48, 65 - Forecasting Future of Union, 48 - - Oxford Methodists, 49 - Society, 54 - - - Parson, John, 151 - - Perronet, Edward, 125 - - Persecution, 102, 139, 143, 270 - - Philadelphia Adult and Sunday-school Union, 256 - - Pilgrim’s Progress, The, 219, 236 - - Pitt, William, 42, 266 - - Politics Influenced by Revival, 258 - - Pope, 38 - - Portraits of Revivalists, 154, 271 - - Power of Song, 114 - - _Practical View of Christianity_, 266, 267 - - Prayer, 102 - - Preacher and Robbers, The, 151 - - Preaching at Beginning of 18th Century, 61 - by Laymen, 132, 136, 139, 147, 148, 149, 151 - in Drawing-Room, 37, 38, 40 - Effect of, 7, 98, 99, 101, 107, 139, 143 - - Prejudices Against Lay Preachers, 132 - - Prison Philanthropy, 199, 217, 234, 236, 241, 246, 248, 258, 318 - - Promoting Christian Knowledge, Society for, 250 - - Propagation of Gospel, Society for, in New England, 250 - - Propagation of Gospel, Society for, in Foreign Parts, 250 - - Protestant Episcopal Board of Missions, 256 - - Puritans, The, 8, 9, 35, 52, 98, 303, 305 - Macaulay’s estimate of, 9, 97, 303 - and Methodists Compared, 98 - - - Quakers, The, 35, 231, 278 - - _Quarterly Review_, 125, 126 - - Quietists, 55 - - Quixote, the Spiritual, 154 - - - Raikes, Anne, 213 - - Raikes, Robert, 183, 193, 194, 196, 201, 211, 214 - at Windsor, 202, 208 - House at Gloucester, 213 - - Raymont of Pegnafort, 93 - - Reciprocation the Soul of Methodism, 100 - - Redruth, Cornwall, 103 - - Reformation, The, 8 - - Reign of Terror, 181 - - Rejection of Gospel, its Effect on Nations, 7 - - Religion, State of - at Beginning of 18th Century, 10, 22, 23, 107 - State of and After Revival Contrasted, 13, 277 - - Religious Tract Society, 191, 256 - - Repeal of Test and Corporation Acts, 258 - - Revival, The, Anecdotes of (See Anecdotes.) - - Revival Beacons, 184 - Becomes Educational, 193, 257, 278 - Beginning of, 24, 28, 35, 39, 49, 57, 73, 181, 186 - Cheerfulness and Joy of, 98, 99, 101, 109, 124 - Conservative, 86 - Dawn of, 24, 48, 49 - Depth of, 277 - Done Most for Well-being of Mankind, 280 - Effect on Literature, 260 - Effect of on World at Large, 279, 293 - Effects of, 8, 10, 13, 107, 115, 129, 132, 147, 166, 171, 180, 183, - 186, 258, 259, 260, 269, 277, 279, 285, 293, 296, 300 - Evangelical in England, 8, 271, - Fair-Preaching, 83 - Field-Preaching, 68, 89, 101, 104 - Foremost Names in, 46, 154 - Fruit of, 180, 186 - - Revival, Growth of, 73, 265 - Hostility to, 21, 22, 32, 61, 77, 94, 102, 154, 156, 159, 172, 288, - 298 - Importance of, 10 - in Wales, 272 - in America, 275, 281, 288, 295, 300 - at Kingswood, 77 - Lay Preaching, 132, 135, 139, 147, 148, 149, 151 - Sects Formed, 276 - Singers of, 109, 121, 123, 126, 192, 310 - Spiritual, 114, 285 - - Revivalist Portraits, 154, 271 - - Richmond Legh, 267 - - Ridicule of Revivalists, 154, 253, 298 - - Rise and Progress in the Soul, 267 - - Ritual Absent in Revival, 114 - - Rock of Ages, 119 - - Rockingham, Lady, 40 - - Rogers’ Lives of Early Preachers, 151 - - Romaine, William, 149, 172 - - Roman Catholics, 133, 145, 193 - - Romelly, Sir Samuel, 26 - - Romish Stories and Incidents in Work of Wesley, 133, 145 - - Romney, Earl, 259 - - Rosary, The, 99 - - Rowlands, 272 - - - Sabbath Observance, 17, 229 - - Sacred Song, Power of, 109, 113, 127 - - Sailors’ Hardships, etc., 221, 224, 240 - - _Saints Everlasting Rest_, 267 - - Salvation by Grace the Grand Doctrine of the Revival, 60, 186, 270, 284 - - Sandwich Islands, 255 - - Sandys, 110 - - Sarton, William, 195 - - Saunderson, Lady Frances, 37 - - Savonarola, 7 - - Schools, Sunday, 16, 196–199, 201, 204 - - School, Sunday, Commended, 207, 208 - Effect of, 201, 215 - First Day or Society, 256 - Growth of, 208, 209, 215 - - Scott, Captain Jonathan, 149 - Thomas, 269 - Walter, Sir, 117 - - Sects Rising from Revival: Bible Christians of West of England, 276 - Primitive Methodists Of the North, 276 - New Connection Methodists, 276 - United Free Church Association, 276 - - Selborne, Lord, Referred to, 125 - - Sharp, Granville, 190 - - Shaw, Robert, 169 - - Ships of 18th Century, 220 - - Shirley, Lady Fanny, 64 - Mr. (Lady Huntingdon’s Cousin), 20 - - Sidney, Sir Philip, 110 - - Simeon, Charles, 269 - - Singers of the Revival, 109, 121, 123, 126, 192, 310 - - Slave Abolition, 186, 211, 265, 278 - - Smiles, Dr., referred to, 24 - - Smith, Adam, 207 - Sydney, 184, 253 - - Society, State of, at beginning of 18th Century, 10, 16, 24, 75, 277, - 282, 294 - State of and after Revival, Contrasted, 13, 277 - - Somerset, Duchess of, 36 - - Songs Used in Great National Movements, 109 - - Southey, 71, 83, 89, 93, 115, 130, 133, 146, 147, 157, 166, 249, 276, - 308 - - Spain, 7 - - Spencer, 52 - - St. Ambrose, 117 - - St. Ann’s, Black Friars, London, 174 - - St. George’s, Hanover Square, London, 172 - - Stage Libels against the Revivalists, 154 - - Staniforth, Sampson, 151 - - Stanhope, Earl, Testimony to Wesley, 10 - - Starting Point, The, of Modern Religious History, 181 - - Steam Engine, The, 12 - - Steele, Miss, 126 - - Stephen, Sir James, 83, 184, 191, 192, 269 - Sir George, 192 - - Stevens, Dr. Abel, 27, 83, 182, 216, 249, 262, 300 - - Stocker, John, 127 - - Stock, Thomas, 204 - - Story, George, 147 - - Stratford, Joseph, 196 - - Streaks of Dawn, First, 24 - - Suffolk, Countess of, 40 - - Swedenborg, 276 - - Swedish Missionary Society, 250 - - - Taylor, Isaac, 45, 83, 128 - - Teachers, Character of at Beginning of 18th Century, 17 - - Te Deum, 114 - - Teignmouth, Lord, 189, 254 - - Tennent, Gilbert, 286, 287, 290 - - “_The Last Judgment_”, 118 - - Thomson, Mr., The Vicar of St. Gennys, 70 - - Thornton, John, 190 - - Ticket, The, 99 - - Told, Silas, 216, 257 - his Preaching and his Work, 235 - - Toleration Act, 258 - - Toplady, Augustus, 119, 121 - - Tottenham Court Chapel, 120, 150 - - Townshend, Lady, 37 - John, 258 - Lord, 42 - - Tractarian Movement, The, 48 - - Tract Societies, 186, 191 - - Trevisa, John De, 193 - - Trimmer, Sarah, Mrs., 209 - - Trophies of Revival, 115 - - Turnpikes in England, 93 - - Tyerman, Mr., referred to, 27, 43, 249 - - Tyndale, William, 183, 193 - - - Venn, Henry, 169 - - Vicar of Wakefield, 21, 267, 305 - - Voltaire, 51, 180 - - - Wales, 272 - - Walker, Samuel, 171 - - Walpole, Horace, 39, 43, 79, 83, 154 - - Walsh, Thomas, 135, 145 - - Warburton, Bishop, on Wesley, 22 - - Ward and Marshman, 253 - - Watson, Richard, 158 - - Watt, James, 12 - - Watts, Isaac, 29, 110, 122, 128 - Friends of, 36 - his Mother, 26 - Hymns of, 29, 113 - Literary Labors, 29 - - Waugh, Alexander, 254 - - Welsh Preaching and Preachers, 275 - - Wesleyan Methodists, 101 - Missionary Society, 256, 320 - - Wesleyan Societies, 170, 182 - - Wesleyanism, Historians of, 182 - - Wesley, Charles, 45, 50, 57, 118, 121, 128, 265 - - Wesley, John, 21, 26, 46, 50, 53, 80, 92, 122, 136, 165, 179, 182, 207 - as an Administrator, 82, 86 - and Church Polity, 82, 86 - and Bradford, 138 - and Fenwick, 137 - and Nelson, 145 - and Silas Told, 217, 233, 237, 249 - and Walsh, 146 - and Whitefield Compared, 69, 80, 86, 87, 89, 148 - and Field-Preaching, 89 - - Wesley, John, - and Methodists Regarded as Enemies, 21, 94, 99 - and Hervey’s Teaching, 59 - at Epworth, 43, 53, 94, 95 - at the Foundry, Moorfields (City Road Chapel), 91 - at Glasgow, 11 - at Gwennap Pit, 103 - at Oxford, 50, 53 - at York, 96 - Compared with Calvin, 69 - Conversion, Time of, 58 - Creed, 100 - Death of, 262 - Early Religious Experiences, 53 - Effect of His Preaching on Himself, 82 - Effect of His Preaching on Others, 82, 87, 96, 114 - Estimate of by Macaulay, 86, 89 - Expelled from Church of England, 68, 69 - Expelled from Oxford, 65 - Hymns, 112, 113, 114, 124, 126 - Influence of, 10, 26, 182 - Itinerancy, 93 - on Sabbath-Schools, 208 - Parish, the World, 91 - Power over Others, 82, 87, 137 - Preaching in Epworth Church-yard, 95 - Restrictions on Lay Preachers, 134 - Tomb, 262 - Translations, 113 - Victory of, over Nash, 87 - - Wesley, Samuel, 43, 53 - Susannah, 44, 134 - her Sayings, 45 - - Weston, Favel, 58, 62 - - Wilberforce, William, 178, 189, 191, 254, 258, 265, 266 - - Wilderness, Blossoms in, 180 - - Wilks, Matthew, 254 - - Winter, Cornelius, 184, 257 - - Wiseman, Cardinal, 131 - - White, Rev George, Vicar of Colne, 71 - - Whitefield, George, 32, 46, 52, 60, 69, 73, 86, 122, 148, 165, 179, - 184, 195, 258, 270, 284 - and the Children, 292 - Among the Indians, 290 - and the Poor Woman, 56 - and Wesley Compared, 69, 80, 86, 87, 89, 148 - and the Recruiting Sergeant, 84 - Among the Nobility, 36, 38, 41, 79 - Among the Roughs, 83, 115 - at Boston, New England, 284, 285 - at Cambridge, New England, 28 - at Harvard, 285 - at Kingswood, Bristol, 73 - at Princeton, 290 - at Gloucester, 73 - at New Haven, 285 - at Oxford, 49, 54 - at the Tower of London, 73 - Compared with Luther, 69 - Description of his Preaching During Thunder Storm, 79 - Early Religious Experience, 55 - - Whitefield, George, - Effect of his Preaching on Himself, 80, 81, 294 - Effect on Others, 43, 76, 79, 82–84, 87, 115, 284, 294, 295, 301 - First Meeting Charles Wesley, 56 - in Georgia, 291 - Journeys, 281 - in New York, 288 - in America, 73, 85, 281 - in Wales, 272 - in London, 81 - in Maryland, 290 - in Moorfields, London, 84 - in Philadelphia, 289 - on Toriel Joss and Newton, 149 - Preaching of, 73, 295 - on Religion in America, 299 - Orphan Asylum in Georgia, 291, 296 - Regarded as a Fanatic, 83 - Ridiculed, 154 - The First in the Opening of the Methodist Movement, 80 - Treatment of Those Who Opposed Themselves to Him, 78, 298 - Watts’ Blessing of, 32 - - Williams, John (Martyr of Erromanga) 255 - - Woolston, 180 - - Work Done in the Revival, 66 - - Wyclif, John, 193 - - - Xavier, Francis, 93 - - - York, Wesley at, 96 - - Yorkshire, 131, 139, 160, 170 - - Yorkshire, Apostles of, 139 - - Young Cottager, The, 267 - - - Zinzendorf, Count, Hymns of, 113, 171 - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ● Transcriber’s Notes: - ○ Several footnote references just said “See Appendix.” without - specifying which (there are 15.) The references have been resolved - as well as was possible. - ○ Some footnotes had no references to them in the text. These were - assumed to be additional material for the entire page, or pages, - and a reference was created. - ○ Some index entries were reformatted to be more consistent with the - majority of the entries. - ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. - ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only - when a predominant form was found in this book. - ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Great Revival of the Eighteenth -Century: with a supplemental chapte, by Edwin Paxton Hood - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 61062 *** |