His Parentage, Conversion, Call to the Ministry, and Settlement at Birmingham

Mr. Samuel Pearce was born at PJymouth, England, July 20, 176G. His father was a respectable silversmith, and many years a deacon of the Baptist church.

When a child, he lived with his grandfather, who was very fond of him, and endeavored to impress his mind with the principles of religion. At about eight or nine years of age he came home to his father, with a view of learning his business. As he advanced in life, his evil propensities, as he said, began to ripen; and, forming connections with several vicious school-fellows, he became more and more corrupted. So greatly was his heart at this time set in him to do evil, that had it not been for the restraining goodness of God, which somehow, he knew not how, preserved him in most instances from carrying his wicked inclinations into practice, he supposed he should have been utterly ruined.

At times he was under strong convictions, which rendered him miserable; but at other times they subsided, and then he would return with eagerness to his sinful pursuits. When about fifteen years old, he was sent by his father to inquire after the welfare of a person in the neighborhood, in dying circumstances, who (though before his departure he was in a happy state of mind) at that time was sinking into deep despair. While in the room of the dying man, he heard him cry out, with inexpressible agony of spirit, “I am damned for ever!!” These awful words pierced his soul, and he felt a resolution at the time to serve the Lord; but the impression soon wore off, and he again returned to folly.

When about sixteen years of age, it pleased God effectually to turn him to himself A sermon delivered by Mr. Birt, who was then co-pastor with Mr, Gibbs, of the Baptist church at Plymouth, was the first means of impressing his heart with a sense of his lost condition, and of directing him to the gospel remedy. The change in him appears to have been sudden, but effectual; and, though his vicious propensities were bitter to his recollection, yet, being now sensibly subdued, he was furnished with so much the clearer evidence that the work was of God. “I believe (he says) few conversons were more joyful. The change produced in my views, feelings, and conduct, was so evident to myself, that J could no more doubt of its beinir from God, than of my existence. I had the witness in myself, and was filled with peace and joy unspeakable.”

His feelings being naturally strong, and receiving a new direction, he entered into religion with all his heart; but, not having known the devices of Satan, his soul was injured by its own ardor, and he was thrown into great perplexity. Having read Doddridge’s Rise a7id Progress of Rehgionin the bout, he determined formally to dedicate himself to the Lord in the manner recommended in the seventeemh chapter of that work. The form of a covenant, as there drawn up, he also adopted as his own; and that he might bind himself in the most solemn and afiecting manner, signed it with his blood. But afterwards, failing in his engagements, he was plunn-ed into great distress, and almost into despair. On a° review of his covenant, he seemed to accuse himself of a pharisaical reliance upon the strength of his own resolutions; and therefore, taking the paper to the top of his father’s house, he tore it into small pieces, and threw it from him, to be scattered by the wind. He did not, however, consider his obligation to be the Lord’s as hereby nullified; bat, feeling more suspicion of himself, he depended solely upon the blood of the cross.

Soon after his first awakening, he wrote the following letter to Rev. Mr. Birt, his pastor:

“Plymouth, October 27, 1782.
3Iy very dear Mr. Birt,

“Were I to make the least delay in answering your very affectionate letter, I should deem myself culpable of the greatest ingratitude. You almost commence your kind letter with mentioning that my tears at parting with you demanded 5^0 ur fervent prayers. But do, my dear sir, consider that separating from an earthly parent, the author of animal life, must, where a filial affection subsists, be an affecting scene. How much more moving must it be to part with a father in Christ Jesus! To part with one whom the Almighty has made the happy means of raising from a state of death in trespasses and sins, to that of life in a dear dying Redeemer!

“O, sir, such was the case when I parted with my ever dear Mr. Birt. Did this require your fervent prayers? Has this caused you to remember me when prostrate at a footstool of mercy? Let me beseech you, my dear sir, still to continue it; and, whenever you bow the suppliant knee at a throne of grace, not to fail beseechin: the Author of mercy to extend his mercy to an object so unworthy. O! beg of him, that, since he has begun a good work in me, he would carry it on. As he has enabled me to put my hand to the gospel plough, may I never look back: but may he grant me grace and strength to hold on, and hold out to the end; to conquer every foe; to be continually pressing forward toward the mark and prize of my high calling in Christ Jesus; and, in the end, to come off more than conqueror through him who, I trust, has loved me and given himself for me. O! beg of him that he will ever keep me from possessing a lukewarm, a Laodicean spirit! May my affections to the crucified Savior be continually on a flame!

“I am ’ prone to wander;’ yes, ‘I feel it; prone to leave the God I love.’ O that my affections may be more and more united to him! My dear sir, pray for me. Use your interest at a throne of grace on my behalf; and as God has promised to be a God hearing and answering prayer, I doubt not but it will meet with a gracious reception, and perhaps with a gracious answer too. O, sir! let me once more entreat you never to forget me whilst offering up prayers to your God. Religion, you may well say, is worthy the choice of all: it makes a beggar superior to a king; whilst, destitute of it, a king is inferior to a beggar. What — oh! what — can equal the felicity, the enjoyments of a Christian 7 Nothing, surely, on this transitory globe! Nothing this wold calls good or great can be put in competition with it, — with the joyous feeling of him who has the unspeakable happiness of experiencing himself interested in a dear Redeemer.

“Surely, no tongue can express, no heart can conceive, what God has prepared for those who love him! O how thankful ought those to be whom he has called by divine grace to the knowledge of himself! What an unspeakable mercy is it that he has distinguished me in such a peculiar manner (give me leave to use your own words) as to be taken into his service, adopted into his family, made an heir of God, a joint heir with Jesus Christ! What now is required of me? What am I now required to do? When I reflect on this, how short do I find I come in my duty! How backward am I to it! How unwilling to perform it! Even when I would do good, evil is present with me.

‘What shall I do with this my heart 1

‘Where shall I bring my sin 1
* O Lamb of God, who bore my smart,

’ ‘Tis thou must make me clean.’

“I have no righteousness of my own, no merits of mine to bring; the best of my performances come infinitely short of the holy law of God. On Jesus alone I must depend for salvation. Here I rest. Hence I draw all my hope. Jesus Christ has died, and Jesus shall not die in vain. The Redeemer’s blood cleanses from all sin, Happy, thrice happy, they who have washed and made their robes white in the blood of the Lamb! May it be the blessed experience of my dear friend and myself.

“I thank you, sir, for your kind admonitions. I hope the God of all grace will enable me to abide by them. Tribulations, trials, and temptations, I am sensible, are the lot of all God’s children here below: but I am equally certain that as long as we rely upon our God, and confide in him only, he that has given us a sure -word of promise, whereby he has caused us to hope, will with them all work out a way for our escape, that we may be able to bear them.

“And now, that it may be our joint happiness, my dear sir, to be kept in a holy, happy fellowship with our God; that we maybe often brought to Pisgah’s summit, and behold the promised Canaan; that we may often, whilst there, anticipate the pleasures of the heavenly world; and, when we have passed the floods of Jordan, meet around the throne above, there to chant eternal lays to Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb, for ever, is, dear sir, the constant prayer of him who is, and wishes ever to remain,

“Your affectionate friend, Samuel Pearce.”

On July 20, 1783, the day he was seventeen years old, he was baptized, and became a member of the Baptist church at Plymouth, the ministers and members of which, in a few years, perceived in him talents for public work. Being solicited by both his pastors, he exercised as a probationer; and, receiving a unanimous call from the church, entered on the work of the ministry in November, 1786. In August, the year following, he went to the Academy at Bristol, then under the super intendance of Dr. Caleb Erans.

Mr. Birt, when Pastor of the Baptist church, in the Square, Plymouth Dock, in a letter to the compiler of these memoirs, thus speaks of him:” Though he was, so far as I know, the very first fruits of my ministry, on my coming hither, and though our friendship and affection for each other were great and constant, yet previously to his going to Bristol I had but few opportunities of conversing with him, or of making particular observations respecting him. All who best knew him, however, will remember, and must tenderly speak of his loving deportment; and those who attended the conferences with him, soon received the most impressive intimations of his future eminence, as a minister of our Lord Jesus Christ.

“Very few have entered upon, and gone through their religious profession, with more exalted piety or warmer zeal; and as few have exceeded him in the possession and display of that charity which * suffereth long, and is kind, that envieth not, that vaunteth not itself, and is not puffed up, that doth not behave itself unseemly, that seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, that beareth all things, believeth all things, endureth all things.’ But why should I say this to you? You knew him yourself”

While at the academy he was much distinguished by the amiableness of his spirit and behavior. It is sometimes observable, that where the talents of a young man are admired by his friends, and his early efTorts flattered by crowded auditories, effects have been produced which have proved fatal to his future respectability and usefulness. But this was not the case with Mr. Pearce. Notwithstanding the popularity which even at that early period attended his ministerial exercises, his tutors have more than once remarked that he never appeared to them to be in the least elated, or to have neglected his proper studies: but was uniformly the serious, industrious, docile, modest, and unassuming young man.

In July, 1789, he came to the church in Cannon street, Birmingham, to whom he was recommended by Rev. Robert Hall, at that time one of his tutors. After preaching to them awhile on probation, he was chosen to be their pastor, and was ordained August 18, 1790.

About two months after his ordination, he wrote to his friend, Mr. Summers, of London. Whether the sentiments contained in that letter arose from the recollection of his late solemn engagement, is uncertain; but they were certainly very appropriate to the occasion. Requesting his friend to pray for him, he says,” Paul speaks of blessings received through the prayers of his fellow-christians: no wonder, therefore, he so often solicits their continuance. But, if it be well to be interested in the prayers of fellow-christians, how much more to believe the great High Priest of our profession, .Tesus the

Son of God, is gone into the holy of holies, with our names on his breast-plate, ever to plead in the presence of God for us — for us! O transporting thought! Who can doubt of the success of such an intercessor?

“I have of late had my mind very pleasantly, and I hope profitably, exercised on this subject, more than ever, and find increasing pleasure, from a well grounded faith in the divinity of my incarnate Advocate. I see the glory of his office, arising from the infinite extent of his knowledge, power, and love, as well as from the efficacy of his atoning sacrifice.

“I do not wonder at those men who deny the priestly office of Christ, when they have refused him the honors cf Deity. I rejoice that he who pleads for us knoiDS our ivanis individually, as well as the necessities of the whole church collectively. Through his intercession alone I expect my sins to be pardoned, my services accepted, and my soul preserved, guided, and comforted; and, with confidence in his intercession, I cannot doubt but I shall enjoy all. O how sweet it is, my dear friend, to exercise a lively faith in a living Savior! May you and I do this daily. Thus for us to live will be Christ, and to die gain: living or dying, we shall be the Lord’s.”

The following letters to his friend Mr. Staughton, exhibit the same spirit of piety and self-dedication:

“Birmingham, June 4, 1791.” I received yours, my dear brother, just before I left Birmingham, on Wednesday last; it did me good, and gave me pleasure. I rejoice in your joy; I thank God for the assistance he grants you in public work. O, let all the strength and power you have, be devoted as the Divine will may seem fit; let it all be employed to exalt the Savior: aim at that, and that only, my dear brother, in all your sermons. It will give us more pleasure, another day, that He was exalted by us, than that we exalted ourselves. Would to God we could live more on Him personally! we should then speak with more pleasure of him publicly. ‘It is pleasant speaking of God when we walk with him.’ May your experience and mine confirm it.

“Your very affectionate brother, S. P.”

“Plymouth Dock, July ^9, 1791.
” My dour Friend,

One of the students, Mr. Rowland, is now dangerously ill at Plymouth Dock, of a fever, which is very prevalent here; and he lodges in a house where another student from the same country (Wales) died not long since. Lord, what is man! O, my brother, let us improve diligently the moments we possess; let us watch for souls; let us spend ourselves in its service for them. I preached thrice yesterday, not without pleasure; God grant it m-ay be vrith profit.

How is it with your soul? How do you find closet duties? 1 have had some precious seasons at a throne of grace since I reached Plymouth; I could say it was good, very good, to draw nigh to God. I am more and more convinced that our private devotion, or want of devotion, will materially affect the tenor of our deportment. God help us to give him our hearts; no fear, then, but he will have our services too. I wish you much of the divine presence; still pray for your unworthy brother, and still help him to praise,

“I am, yours affectionately, S. P.”

A similar spirit of ardent devotedness to the work of his divine Master, and of affectionate interest in the welfare of his friends, is displayed in the following letters to his friend Mr. Summers.

“Birmingham, Feb. 3, 1791.

“‘Friendship and ceremony seldom coalesce; — the ardor of aflection and the chilling punctilios of formality cannot be united. Possessed of the former, averse to the latter, my kind friend receives a line from me, although my last is still unanswered. The occasion of my writing is a source of joy inexpressible to myself — a joy in which I know you will participate. Your amiable friend, Miss PI. permitted me to call her my own y*:Sterd.ay. One dwelling now contains us both, and Paul’s Square contains that dwelling-.

“Thus far the good hand of my God has been with me; and I would hope, that not without his smiles, I have pursued the path which at length has led me to the felicity I now enjoy in the society of the most amiable of women; -without them, I am still sensible, all created good is valueless, is vanity and vexation of spirit.

“Kow pleasing, my dear friend, to a pious mind, is the reflection that all our goings are in his hands whose love inclines him to every thing that is kind — whose purity connects with his conduct every thing that is good — whose wisdom infallibly adopts the best means, and whose power cannot fail to accomplish all his will. AVith his blessing, our felicity cannot fail of being accomplished — without it, it can never be attained. May it be our happiness to possess an interest in 3’our prayers, that this all gracious, wise, and good Being, may continue still to bless, and cause that our union to each other may be a means of leading us more to communion with him.

*’ Besides this, I have, my dear friend, more mercies to be thankful for than I could enumerate on a quire of paper. Religion still flourishes among us, beneath the auspices of the Sun of Righteousness. Our congregations are quite as numerous as when you were at Birmingham; and we have had several pleasing additions since that period to our church. About eight weeks since, I baptized nine persons; last Sabbath 1 administered the same ordinance to eight more: and an equal or superior number appear in the way to join us soon. May this accession to our numbers be an increase to our joy. * *

““S. P.”

“Birmingham, September 30, 1791.
“My very dear friend,

“.... The riots in Birmingham occasioned our stay in Bristol to be prolonged to a fortnight, so that we had not above three weeks to spend at Plymouth, from whence I purposed writing to you. This inch of time was wholly engrossed in making Mrs. P. witness the beauties of the West, and in introducing her to my numerous acquaintance in Devonshire.

“On our return we found our habitation had been quite emptied of furniture, and, though we found the goods replaced, yet my books and papers were so deranged that to this hour they are not all restored to order again.

“It is now Saturday evening; I have finished my usual preparations for the morrow. I have an hour to spare, and that hour I devote to intercourse th a friend I much esteem.

“I anticipate with some degree of holy pleasure the work of the approaching day. I have for my evening’s discourse the best subject in all the Bible. Eph. 1: 7. — Redemption! how welcome to the captive! Forgiveness! how delightful to the guilty! Grace! how pleasing to the heart of a saved sinner! O my dear friend, how much do we lose of Gospel blessings for want of realizing our personal connection with them I hence it is that we are no more humble, thankful, watchful, prayerful, joyful. Wo view the glories of the Gospel at a distance, and for want of that faith which is the ‘substance of things hoped for, and evidence of things not seen,’ think too lightly of ihem. O Lord increase our faith!

“There are two things we should be always doing. First v,-e should identify the promises and things promised, satisfy ourselves respecting the certain existence of them — that they are not shadows, but substances — not fancies, but realities. This would have a commanding influence upon our meditations, desires, and praj-ers. Then, secondly, realize our interests m them, saying, ‘These things are so, there is a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory — there are enjoyments reserved in the heavenly world surpassing all human thought — and these joys, these glories, this inheritance is miae;’ then, how would our hearts be where our treasure is! how pure would be our affections! how burdensome would sin be! how precious would Christ be I how much prized would Sabbaths and ordinances be! how dear would the Scriptures be! — In short, death itself would be welcome, for the soul would long to depart and be with Christ, which is far better.

“I wish to be very thankful that I have had some rich experience of divine things since my return, both in the closet and in the pulpit; at some seasons I could have said, ‘O that I had wings like a dove, that I might fly away and be at rest.’ The twentieth hymn in Dr. Watts’ s second book has been the most experimental piece of poetry I ever read; when I say this, you need not be told that I am not upon the mount always; alas! no; but then why should I complain? my Lord knows best when to take me thither, and hov, long to keep me there; yet I know that if I had not an evil heart of unbelief I should not thus depart from the living and the true God. I hope you enjoy much of heaven on earth. O it is good to draw nigh to God.

“‘Tis heaven to rest in his embrace,
“And no where else but there.”

“May we know more and more experimentally the blessing of the beloved disciple. John, 21: 20.

“S. P.”

“Birmingham, October Q, 1792.
‘• My very dear Frioud,

“‘Our law judgeth not a man before it heareth him’ — let me beseech you to listen candidly to my defence, and then pronounce judgment on my silence

•

as your wisdom directs. First, 1 have been out three considerable journeys since I returned from Wales, and all on my Master’s business: into Oxfordshire, Shropshire, Leicestershire, and twice into Northamptonshire. This necessarily occasioned my being more busily employed on my return. But, secondly, my hands have been unusually full lately at home, partly from the prevalence of Antinomian poison among- many professors in our town and congregation, and partly from greater success than ordinary attending my jyoor labors for my dear JMaster. Several have been under great awakenings: ten have lately joined us; yesterday I was rejoiced to hear that nineteen inquiring souls met at the house of one of our members; one besides has been with me this morning, and I expect two more to-night. My dear brother, it is pleasant to write to you under the endearing idea of Christian friendship; but 3’ou will, I know, forgive me when I say it is sweeter .still to listen to the lispings of so many babes in grace, who are just beginning to say, ‘AbKa, Father,’ and to regard them as ’ children whom the Lord hath given uie,’ — poor unworthy me! Ohow I should rejoice to contemplate you in a similar, or more prosperous situation. You sometimes sit with your dear Mrs. S. by your side, and your little family around you; and, as you look, you love and are delighted. ‘These children of mine (you say) w’ill support my old age, and administer comiort when the springs of life begin to decline.’ Blessed be God, I can sometimes contemplate my children in the faith, and say, ‘Ye are my hope and my joy, and shall be my crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus.’ Amen, so be it.

“‘Never was the sentiment of the text and sermxon which you have transcribed from my MS. more exemplified since God deigned to put gospel treasure into the brittle contemptible vessels of human nature, than it is in Cannon-street; surely the excellency of the power is not of man, but of God.

“O when will the time, the longed-for time arrive, when the Messiah’s ensign shall be lifted high, and Jews and Gentiles, Pagans and Mahomedans, Africans and Indians, be gathered unto it?

‘Fly abroad, thou mighty gospel,

‘Win and conquer, never cease;

‘Spread from eastern coast to western,

‘Multiply and still increase:

* Hasten, Lord, this glorious day.’

“One journey I made to Northamptonshire was with a view to assist in seiling 071 foot a mission to the unconverted heathen. It has long engaged the unusual concern of many ministers in our connection about the centre of the kingdom. Brother Carey, of Leicester, published on the subject; and last Wednesday evening we drew out a sketch of an institution for so great a design. May He, whose glory I trust we have in view, direct all future deliberations.

and make the embryo effort ripen and succeed, till future ages prove that the plan begun at Kettering, October 3, 1790, comprehended in its consequences the salvation of the world. ‘Soon,’ my brother, ’ soon (it is said) Ethiopia shall stretch forth her hands unto God.’ May we, like our divine Master, not fail nor be discouraged, until the gospel be established in the earth, and the waiting isles have received the law of him who is the approaching ‘desire of all nations!’

“O that our little selves were more lost and swallowed up in the general interests of mankind, and the honors of our illustrious Lord! Never did I feel iryself a more contemptible reptile than Vv’hen preaching last night from Prov. 19: 21. The immutability of the divine counsels, and the omnipotence of the divine arm, exhibit a striking contrast with the limited power of mutable man. Well may we stand on the shore, and, gazing on the ocean of divine perfections, exclaim, ‘O the depths,’ &c. Great God, ‘I am a worm, and no man; ‘I am but an atom composed of the meanest matter, and in myself unqualified for the meanest service; but, in thy hand, ’ a straw shall thresh a mountain,’ and a ’ barley cake put a host of thine enemies to flight.’ Work, Lord, as thou wilt; send by whom thou wilt; for, when thou dost work, who shall let it?’

“We take a part in the pleasure which you must feel in reflecting on the gracious interposition of the Lord on behalf of Mrs. S. Who is a God like ours?

O, what praising, living- Christians should we be if “we lived as our obligations to sovereign mercy teach us; dead to the world — alive to God — far from gloom — full of joy! Heaven would be begun below: and, like saints in apostolic ages, we should be ’ praising God, and in favor with all his people.’ Well! the tiresome days of sad complaint are rolling fast away; many are already gone; ere this reaches you, another will have been numbered with those beyond the flood; soon the night of death will come — a short night, but it will usher in n day, O how permanent! an eternal day! which shall be succeeded by night no more! Come Lord Jesus, come quickly.

“I have lately been much reconciled to death! first, from a persuasion that the Lord can accomplish all his purposes of grace as well without the use of so poor a worm as with him; and, secondly, from a comparison of this sinful state with that sinless world, O, my brother, it is sin, cursed sin, that turns man to a devil, and earth to hell. It is holiness, perfect holiness, which forms the heaven of God, of angels, and of the spirits of just men made perfect; and I can say this is the heaven I want. O, if the kingdom of glory contained a million of blessings, and God were to bid me choose, my heart would reply, ‘Lord! give me the blessing of perfect conformity to thee, and then bestow the rest on angels: I’ll envy not their portion, having enough in possessing thy image, and in thy image thee. S. P.”

The lady with whom he mentions his connection in marriage, was Miss. Sarah Hopkins, daughter of Mr. Joshua Hopkins, of Alcester; and the connection appears to have been all along a source of great enjoyment to him. The following lines, addressed to Mrs. Pearce when he was on a journey, the year after their marriage, seem to be no more than a common letter; yet they’ show, not only the tenderness of his affection, but his heavenly-mindedness, his gentle manner of persuading, and how every argument was fetched from religion and every incident improved for introducing it.

“Chipping Nortan, August 15, 1792.

I believe, on retrospection, that I have hitherto rather anticipated the proposed time of my return than delayed the interview with my dear Sarah for an hour. But what shall I say, my love, now, to reconcile you to my procrastinating my return for several days more 1 Why, I will say, it appears I am called of God; and I trust the piety of both of us will submit and say, ‘Thy will be done.’

“You have no doubt perused Mr. Ryland’s letter to me, wherein I find he solicits an exchange. The reason he assigns is so obviously important, that a much greater sacrifice than we are called to make should not be withheld to acccomplish it. I therefore propose, God willing, to spend the next Lord’s day at Northampton. I thought of taking tea with you this evening: that would have been highly gratifying to us both; but it must be our meat and drink to do and submit to the will of our heavenly Father. All is good that comes from him, and all is done right which is done in obedience to him. O, to be perfectly resigned to his disposal — how good is it! May you, my dearest Sarah, and myself, daily prove the sweetness of this pious frame of soul; then all our duties will be sweet, all our trials will be light, all our pleasures will be pure, and all our hopes sanctified.

“This evening I hope to be at Northampton. Let your prayers assist my efforts on the ensuing Sabbath. You will, 1 trust, find in Mr. R. a ship richly laden with spiritual treasures. O for more supplies from the exhaustless mines of grace! S. P.”

The exemplary diligence with which he pursued the duties of his pastoral office, about this time, will be evident from the following letter to Mr. Staughton.

“Birmingham, March 30, 1792.
“My dear Brother,

“A violent head-ache prevents my attending our prayer-meeting this evening; but, as I am a letter in your debt, I will endeavor to repay you, notwithstanding my complaint; you must expect me to be brief. If I fill the sheet it must be deemed a work of supererogation.

“You have, probably-, heard of the late transaction of our church; we were under the disagreeable necessity of separating two of our members. It was done publicly, with much solemnity, on Lord’s day; the members seemed much affected; we appointed the following day to be set apart for fasting and prayer; we met at nine, and continued confessing and supplicating till half past one. I believe the Lord was with us, both to notice and approve. We began the next day a prayer-meeting at live o’clock in the morning, to be continued every day without intermission, except Lord’s day; then, as usual, to be at seven. Beyond my expectations, we have had between ihirty and fifty persons present most mornings since. I have found it to my advantage to attend regularly; the effects have been already seen; the young people have been amazingly revived; they meet four or five times for prayer every Lord’s day, besides the public opportunities. In preaching, I have enjoyed more of the substantial assistance of divine grace than usual; several persons, in darkness of soul, have been brought into the marvelous light of divine comfort; the hearers have been quickened; ten persons have applied for admission to the church in a less number of days, which, with one before, make eleven candidates; seven of them, I believe, were called in Cannon-street; among them the youth of sixteen, concerning whom I wrote you last. Next Lord’s day week, April 8th, I shall baptize some of them; we have not time to receive the experience of all; the rest must wait another month; who can tell but God may bring more to join them, who are yet in obscurity? I know of some who indeed appear inquiring the way to Zion, with their faces thither-ward.’

“We are next to divide the whole church into district meetings, similar to that of brother Eld’s, with which you sometimes attended; I am in hopes it will wonderfully conduce to promote the union and affection of the body.

“In addition to all this, each member is numbered in the church book, &c.; cards with his or her name, and the corresponding number, thus ^.^’g. are delivered to every individual, who is to put one on the poor’s plate at each ordinance; the deacons and ministers afterwards compare the numbers and names, and whoever is found wanting is to be waited upon in the course of the ensuing week, to inquire the cause of absence. Thus shall we come at a pretty general knowledge of the state of the church at large; may we have wisdom to guide us as angels of God.

“I am, my dear friend,

“Yours, very affectionately, S. P.”

The soul of Mr. Pearce was formed for friendship; it was natural therefore to suppose that, while engaging in the pursuit of his studies at the academy, he would contract religious intimacies with some of his brethren; and it is worthy of notice, that the grand cement of his friendship was kindred piety. In the following letters, addressed to his friend Mr. Steadman, the reader will perceive the justness of this remark, as well as the encouraging prospects which soon attended his labors at Birmingham.

“May 9, 1792.
” My very dear Brother,

“You live so remote that I can hear nothing of your prosperity at Broughton. I hope you are settled with a comfortable people, and that you enjoy much of your Master’s presence, both in the study and in the pulpit. For my part, I have nothing to lament, but an insensible, ungrateful heart, and that is sufficient cause for lamentation. This, only this, bows me down; and under this pressure I am ready to adopt the words I preached from last evening — * Ok that I had wings like a dove: for then would I jiy away, and he at rest P

“As a people, we are generally united: I believe more so than most churches of the same dimensions. Our number of members is about two hundred and ninety-five, between forty and fifty of whom have joined us since I saw you, and most of them I have the happiness of considering as my children in the faith. There is still a crying out amongst us after salvation; and still, through much grace, it is my happiness to point them to the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world.

“In preaching, I have often peculiar liberty; at other times I am barren. I suppose my experience is like that of most of my brethren; but 1 am not weary of my work. I hope still that I am willing to spend and be spent, so that I may win souls to Christ, and finish my course with joy. But I want more heart religion; I want a more habitual sense of the divine presence; I want to walk with God as Enoch walked. There is nothing that grieves me so much, or brings so much darkness on my soul, as my little spirituality and frequent wanderings in secret prayer. I cannot neglect the duty; but it is seldom that I enjoy it.

‘Ye that love the Lord indeed,
* Tell me, is it so with you V

“When I come to the house of God, I pray and preach with freedom. Then I think the presence of the people seems to weigh more with me than the presence of God, and deem myself a hypocrite, almost ready to leave my pulpit for some more pious preacher. But the Lord does own the word; and again I say, if I go to hell myself, I will do whai I can to keep others from going thither; and so, in the strength of the Lord, I will.

“An observation once made to me helps to support me above water: If you did not plough in your closet, you would not reap in the pulpit.’ And again I think, the Lord dwelleth in Zion, and loveth it more than the dwellings of Jacob. S. P.”

“February 1, 1793.

“The pleasure which your friendly epistle gave me rises beyond expression; and it is one of the first wishes of my heart ever to live in your valued friendship. Accept this, and my former letters, my dear “brother, as sufficient evidences of my ardent wishes to preserve, by correspondence, that mutual remembrance of each other, which on my part will ever be pleasurable, and on yours, I hope, never painful.

“But ah, how soon may we be rendered incapable of such an intercourse! When I left Bristol, I left it with regret. I was sorry to leave my studies to embark, inexperienced as I am, on the tempestuous ocean of public life, where the high blowing winds, and rude noisy billows, must, more or less, inevitably annoy the trembling voyager. Nor did it make a small addition to my pain that I was to part with so many of my dear companions, with whom I had spent so many happy hours, either in furnishing or unburthening the mind. I need not say, amongst the first of these, I considered Josiah Evans.* But

* The -following extract from the account of this excellent young man, drawn up by Mr. Pearce, who had been his fellow student at Bristol, for Dr. Rippon’s Register, will ah, my friend, we shall see his face Through divine grace I hope we shall go to him; but he will not return to us. ‘He wasted away, he gave up the ghost, and where is he V I was prepared for the news, because I expected it. The last time I heard directly from him was by a very serious and affectionate letter, which I received, I think,

serve at once as a specimen of that endearing intimacy which Mr. P. and his associate cultivated, and as a model of that friendship which Christians, and especially students for the gospel ministry, should ever seek to enjoy.

‘’ Mr. Evans had one essential qualification for friendship, which was faiihfiihiess. I believe he never discerned any thing in my temper or conduct which he thought would be injurious to my proficiency as a student, or to my spirituality as a Christian, (after our intimacy commenced,) but he watched the first opportunity of laying it before me, with the reasons of his disapprobation. On some of those occasions he would give his friendly admonitions and counsels with such aflfectionate eloquence, that the result has been our retiring together with tears, lamenting oui mutual imperfections before God, and beseeching wisdom and grace from above, to adorn our profession, and in every step to pursue something worthy of our being and character. Some of the moments we thus spent, I believe, were marked with as true humiliation of heart as ever we knew: for, as Ave did not conceal the various states of our minds from each other, we had no occasion to restrain our feelings, and guard our expressions, in these exercises; on the contrary, we felt as much freedom as though we had been apart, and realized the presence of none but our Maker.

•’ A world, for such a friend-^ to lose is gain J”

last September. To it 1 replied; but received no answer. I conjectured — I feared; and now my conjectures and fears are all realized. Dear departed youth! thy memory will ever be grateful to this affectionate breast. May thy amiable qualities live again in thy surviving friend, that to the latest period of his life he may thank God for the friendship of Josiah Evans!

“I preached last night from Rev. 21:6; ’ / icitl give unto him that is athirsi of the fountain of the icaier of life freely.’’ I took occasion to expound the former part of the chapter, and found therein pleasure inexpressible; especially when speaking from the first verse — ’ and there icas no more sea.^ The first idea that presented itself to me was this — there shall be no bar to intercourse.. Whether the thought be just or not, I leave with you and my hearers to determine; but I found happy liberty in illustrating it. What is it that separates one nation and one part of the globe from another? Is it not the sea? Are not Christians, though all of one family, the common Father of which is God, separated by this sea, or that river, or the other stream below? Yes, but they are one family still. There shall be none of these obstructions to communion, of these bars to intercourse; nothing to divide their affections or disunite their praise for ever. Forgive mv freedom. I am writing to a friend, to a brother.

“S. P.”

There are few, if any, thinking men but who at some seasons have had their minds perplexed with regard to religious principles, even those which are of the greatest importance. In the end, however, where the heart is right, such exercises commonly issue in a more decided attachment to the truth. Thus it was with Mr. Pearce. In another part of the above letter, he thus writes to his friend:

I have, since I saw you, been much perplexed about some doctrinal points, both Arminian and Socinian, I believe through reading very attentively, but without sufficient dependence on the Spirit of truth, several controversies on those subjects; particularly the writings of Whitby, Priestly, and others. Indeed, had the state of mind I was in, about ten weeks since, continued, I should have been incapable of preaching with comfort at all. But in the mount of the Lord will he be seen. Just as I thought of giving up, he who hath the hearts of all men in his hand, and turneth them as the rivers of water are turned, was pleased, by a merciful, though afflicting providence, to set me at a happy liberty.

“I was violently seized with a disorder very rife here, and which has carried off many. One Sabbath evening I felt such alarming symptoms that I did not expect to see Monday morning. In these circumstances I realized the feelings of a dying man. My mind had been so accustomed to reflect on virtue SAMtJEL PEARCE. 37

and moral goodness, that the first thing I attempted was a survey of my own conduct; my diligence and faithfulness in the ministry, my unspotted life, &c. But, ah! vain props these for dying men to rest on! Such heart-sins, such corruptions, such evil propensities, recurred to my mind, that, if ever 1 knew the moment when I felt my own rightousness to be as loathsome and filthy rags, it was then. And where should I, where could I, where did I flee, but to Him whose glory and grace I had been of late degrading, at least in my thoughts? Yes, there I saw peace for guilty consciences was to be alone obtained through an almighty Savior. And O! wonderful to tell, I again came to him; nor was I sent away without the blessing. I found him full of compassion, ready to receive the most ungrateful of men.

* O, to grace how great a debtor,

* Daily I’m constrained to bel’

Thus, my dear brother, was the snare broken, and thus I escaped,

‘A debtor to mercy alone,
‘Of covenant mercy I sing.’

“Join with me in praising Him who remembered me in my low estate, because his mercy endureth for ever. Yet this is among the ’ all things.’’ I have found that it has made me more spiritual in preaching. I hre prized the Gospel more than ever, and hope it will be the means of guarding m& against future temptations.

“Your brother, with ardent affection, m the dear Lord Jesus, S. P.”

From his first coming to Birmingham, his meekness and patience were put to the trial by the Antinomian spirit which infected many individuals, both in and out of his congregation. It is well known with what affection it was his practice to beseech sinners to be reconciled to God, and to exhort Christians to the exerci ie of practical godliness: but these were things whica they could not endure. Soothing doctrine was all they desired. Therefore it was that his ministry kvas traduced by them as Arminian, and treated with neglect and contempt. But, like his divine Master, he bore the contradiction of sinners against himself, and this while he had the strongest satisfaction that, in those very things to which they objected, he was pleasing God. And though he plainly perceived the pernicious influence of their principles upon their own minds, as well as the minds of others, yet he treated them with great gentleness and long forbearance: and, when it became necessary to exclude such of this description as were in communion with him, it was with the greatest reluctance that he came into that measure, and not without having first tried all other means in vain. He was not apt to deal in harsh language; yet, m one of his letters about that tune, he speaks of the principles and spirit of these people as a “cursed leaven.”

Among- his numerous religious friendships, he seems to have formed one for the special purpose of spiritual improvement. This was with Mr. Summers, of London, who often accompanied him in his journeys; to whom, therefore, it might be expected he would open his heart without reserve. Here, it is true, we sometimes see him, like his brethren, groaning under darkness, want of spirituality, and the remains of in-dwelling sin; but frequently rising above all, as into his native element, and pouring forth his ardent soul in expressions of joy and praise.

On August 19, 1793, he writes thus;

“My dear Brother,

“When I take my pen to pursue my correspondence with 1/ou, I have no concern but to communicate something which may answer the same end we propose in our annual journeys; namely, lending some assistance in the important object of getting and keeping nearer to God. This, I am persuaded, is the mark at which we should be continually aiming, nor rest satisfied until we attain that to which we aspire. I am really ashamed of myself, when, on the one hand, I review the time that has elapsed since T first assumed the Christian name, with the oppormnitiei of improvement in godlinesss which have

crowded on my moments since that period; and when, on the other, I feel the little advance I have made. More light to be sure, I have; but light loithoiit heat leaves the Christian half dissatisfied. Yesterday I preached on the duty of engagedness in God’s service, from Jer. 30: 21; ‘Who is this that engaged his heart to approach unto me? saith the Lord,’’ (a text for which I am indebted to our last journey.) While urging the necessity of heart religion, including sincerity and ardor, I found myself much assisted by reflecting on the ardor which our dear Redeemer discovered in the cause of sinners. Ah! I could not help saying, if our Savior had measured his intenseness in his engagements for us by our fervency in fulfilling our engagements to him, we should have been now farther from hope than we are from perfection.

‘Dear Lord, the ardor of thy love
‘Reproves my cold returns.’

“Two things are causes of daily astonishment to me; the readiness of Christ to come from heaven to earth for me; and my backwardness to rise from earth to heaven with him. But, O how animating the prospect! A time approaches when we shall rise to sink no more — ’ to be for ever with the Lord.’ To be with the Lord for a week, for a day, for an hour, how sweetly must the moments pass! But to be for ever with the Lord: that enstamps salvation with perfection; that gives an energy to our hopes, and a dignity to our joy, so as to render it unspeakn.ble and full of glory. I have had a few realizing moments since we parted, and the effect has been, I trust, a broken heart O, my brother, it is desirable to have a broken heart, were it only for the sake of the pleasure it feels in being helped and healed by Jesus! Heart-affecting views of the cursed effects of sin, are highly salutary to a Christian’s growth in humility, confidence, and gratitude. At once howabasing and exalting is the comparison of our loathsome hearts with that of the lovely Savior! In Him we see all that can charm an angel’s heart; in ourselves all that can gratify a devil’s. And yet we may rest perfectly assured that these nests of iniquity shall, ere long, be transformed into the temples of God; and these sighs of sorrow be exchanged for songs of praise.

“Last Lord’s day I spent the most profitable Sabbath to myself that I ever remember since I have been in the ministry; and to this hour I feel the sweet solemnities of that day delightfully protracted. Ah, my brother, were it not for past experience, I should say,

‘My heart presumes I cannot lose
* The relish all my days.’

But now I rejoice with tremblings; desiring- to ’ hold fast what I have, that no man take my crown.’ Yet fearing that I shall find how

—• Ere one fleeting hour is past,
‘The flatt’ring world employs

Some sensual bait to seize my taste,
‘And to pollute my joys.’

•’ Yours, in our dear Savior, S. P.”

In April, 1794, dropping a few lines to the compiler of these Memoirs, on a Lord’s day evening, he thus concludes:” We have had a good day. I find, as a dear friend once said. It is pleasant speaking for God when we walk with him. O for much of Enoch’s spirit! The Head of the Church grant it to my dear brother, and his friend,

S. P.”

A few months before this, writing to Mr. Staughton, he says: “I rejoice, mr dear brother, in the delightful prospect of usefulness which appears to be opening upon you. May the Day-spring from on high still continue to enlighten you, and by you the benighted souls of your dear fellow-men around you. O that we may preach him plainly, faithfully, constantly, practically; and he hath said that his word shall not return void. We may, as ministers, adopt the evangelical lines of that popular hymn, and with reference to the subject of our preaching, say, ‘None but Jesus, none but Jesus, * Can do helpless sinners good.’”

In a letter to Mr. Summers, June 24, 1794, he thus writes: “We, my friend, have entered on a correspondence of heart with heart, and must not lose sig-ht of that avowed object.” I thank you sincerely for continuing the remembrance of so unworthy a creature in your intercourse with heaven; and I thank that sacred Spirit whose quickening influences you say you enjoy in the exercise. Yes, my brother, I have reaped the fruits of your supplications. I have been indulged with some seasons of unusual joy, tranquil as solitude, and solid as the rock on which our hopes are built. In public exercises peculiar assistance has been afforded; especially in these three things: the exaltation of the Redeemer’s glory; the detection of the crooked ways, false refuges, and self delusions of the human heart; and the stirring up of the saints to press onward, making God’s cause their own, and considering themselves as living, not for themselves, but for him alone.

“Nor hath the word been without its effect: above fifty have been added to our church this year, most of whom I rejoice in as the seals of my ministry in the Lord. Indeed, I am surrounded with goodness; and scarcely a day passes over my head, but I say, * Were it not for an ungrateful heart, I should be the happiest man alive; and, that excepted, I neither expect nor wish to be happier in this world. My wife, my children, and myself, are uninterruptedly healthy; my friends kind; my soul at rest; and my labors successful. Who should be content and thankful if I should not? O, my brother, help me to praise! S. P.”

In a letter to Mrs. Pearce from Plymouth, September 2, 1794, the dark side of the cloud seems towards him:” I have felt much barrenness as to spiritual things since I have been here, compared with my usual frame at home; and it is a poor exchange, to enjoy the creature at the expense of the Creator’s presence! A few seasons of spirituality I have enjoyed; but my heart, my inconstant heart, is too prone to rove from its proper centre. Pray for me, my dear, my dearest friend: I do for you daily. O wrestle for me, that I may have more of Enoch’s spirit! I am fully persuaded that a Christian is no longer really happy, and inwardly satisfied, than while he walks with God; and I would this moment rejoice to abandon every pleasure here for a closer walk with him. I cannot, amidst all the round of social pleasure, amidst the most inviting scenes of nature, feel that peace with God which passeth understanding. My thirst for preaching Christ, I fear, abates; and a detestable vanity for the reputation of a good ‘preacher, as the world terms it, has already cost me many conflicts. Daily I feel convinced of the propriety of a remark which my friend Summers made on his journey to Wales — that it is easier for a Christian to walk habitually near to God, than to be irregular in our walk with him. But I want resolution; I want a contempt for the world; I want more heavenly-mindedness; I want more humility; I want much, very much of that which God alone can bestow. Lord help the weakest lamb in all thy flock!

“I preached this evening from Cant. 2: 3. — ‘/ saA down under his shadow icith great delight, and his fruit teas siceet to my taste.’’ But how little love for my Savior did I feel! With what little affection and zeal did I speak! I am praised by some; I am followed by many: I am respected by most of my acquaintance; but all this is nothing, yea, less than nothing, compared with -possessing this testimony, that I please God. O thou friend of sinners! humble me by repentance, and melt me down with love.

“To-morrow morning I set off for Launceston. I write to-night, lest my stay in Cornwall might make my delay appear tedious to the dear and deserving object of my most undissembled love. O, my Sarah! had I as much proof that I love Jesus Christ, as I have of my love to you, I should prize it more than rubies. As often as you can find an hour for correspondence, think of your more than ever affectionate S. P.”

On the same subject, and the same occasion, about three weeks afterwards, he wrote to Mr. Summers. His dissatisfaction with himself, while spending his time in visits, and his satisfaction when engaged in his proper work, are well worthy of attention.” I was pretty much engaged in preaching, (says he,) and often felt enlarged in public work; but in private my almost daily cry was, ‘My leanness, my leanness!’ Indeed it was a barren visit, as to the inward exercises of grace. Noav and then I felt a brokenness of spirit, and a panting after God; but in general my mind was in a dissipated state. After so long an absence from so large an acquaintance, I was always crowded with company, some of whom, though amiable, were very gay. Their politeness and cheerfulness, joined with a high degree of indulgence, were too fascinating for my volatile mind. I admired, and was too much conformed to their spirit. I did indeed often struggle with myself, and watched for occasions of dropping some improving hint; but, either through want of opportunity or of fortitude, the hint seldom produced a long conversation, or a permanent effect. New visits, or excursions, were every day proposed, and my heart was continually divided between painful recollection and flattering hopes. One lesson, indeed, I have thoroughly learned — that real, solid satisfaction is to be found in nothing but God. May I have grace to Improve it throughout my future life.

‘* The last week I have known more of the power of inward religion than all the four which I have spent from home. I devoted the week to my Lord’s service entirely, and I found, in keeping his commandments, great reward. S. P.”

In another to Mr. Summers, Nov. 10, 1794, he says:” I suppose I shall visit London in the spring; prepare my way by communion with God and man. I hope your soul prospers. I have enjoyed more of God within this month, than ever since the day of my espousals with him. O, my brother, help me to praise! I cannot say that I am quite so exalted in my frame to-day; yet still I acknowledge — what I have lived upon for weeks — that, were there no being or thing in the universe besides God and me, I should be at no loss for happiness, O!

‘Tis heaven to rest in his embrace,
And nowhere else but there.’

S. P.”