General Outlines of His Character
To develope the character of any person, it is necessary to determine what was his governing principle. If this can be clearly ascertained, we shall easily account for the lenor of his conduct.
The governing principle ii: Mr. Pearce, beyond all doubt, was holy love.
To mention this is sufficient to prove it to all who knew him. His friends have often compared him to tha disciple whom Jesus loved. His religion was that of the heart. Almost every thing he saw, or read, or studied, was converted to the feeding of his divine flame. Every subject that passed through his hands seemed to have been cast into this mould. Things that to a speculative mind would have furnished matter only for curiosity, to him afforded materials for devotion. His sermons were generally the effusions of his heart, and invariably aimed at the hearts of his hearers.
For the justness of the above remarks I might ippeal, not only to the letters which he addressed to his friends, but to those which his friends addressed to him. It is worthy of notice how much we are influenced in our correspondence by the turn of mind of the person we address. If we write to a ium.orous character, we shall generally nnd that
241 ME5I0IR or
what xre write, perhaps without bein conscious of it, will be interspersed with pleasantries; or, if to one of a very serious cast, our letters will be more serious than usual. On this principle it has been thought we may form some judgment of our own spirit by the spirit in which our friends address us. These remarks will apply with singular propriety to the correspondence of Mr. Pearce. In looking over the first volume of Periodical Accounts of the Baptist Mission, the reader will easily perceive that the most afTectionate letters from the missionaries are those which are addressed to him.
It is not enough to say of his affectionate spirit that it formed a prominent feature in his character; it was rather the life-b’ood that animated the whole system. He seemed, as one of his friends observed, to be baptized in it. It was holy love that gave the tone to his general deportment; as a son, a subject, a neighbor, a Christian, a minister, a pastor, a friend, a husband, and a father, he was manifestly governed by this principle; and this it was that produced in him that lovely unilormity of character which constitutes the true beauty of holiness.
By the grace of God he was what he was; and to the honor of grace, and not for the glory of a sinful worm, be it recorded. Like all other men, he was the subject of a depraved nature. He felt it and lamented it, and longed to depart that he might be freed from it: but certainly we have seldom see a a character, taking him altogether, “whose excellences were so many and so uniform, and whose imperfections were so few.” We have seen men rise high in contemplation, who have abounded but little in action — we have seen zeal mingled with bitterness, and candor degenerate into indifference; experimental religion mixed with a large portion of enthusiasm; and what is called rational religion void of every thing that interests the heart of man — we have seen splendid talents tarnished with insufferable pride; seriousness with melancholy; cheerfulness with levity; and great attainments in religion with uncharitable censoriousness towards men of low degree; but we have not seen these things in our brother Pearce.
There have been few men in whom has been united a greater portion of the contemplative and the active; holy zeal and genuine candor; spirituality and rationality: talents that attracted almost universal applause; and yet the most unaffected modesty; faithfulness in bearing testimony against evil, with the tenderest compassion to the soul of the evil doer; fortitude that would encounter any difficulty in the way of duty, without any thing boisterous, noisy, or overbearing; deep seriousness, with habitual cheerfulness; and a constant aim to promote the highest degree of piety in himself and others, with a readinejs to hope the best of the lowest; not breakinrr the bruised reed, nor quenching the smokmr flax.
He loved the divine character as revealed in the Scriptures. — To adore God, to contemplate his glorious perfections, to enjoy his favor, and to submit to his disposal, were Jiis highest delight. “I feU (says he, when contemplating the hardships of a missionary life) that weie the universe destroyed, and 1 trie only being in it besides God, he is fully adequate to tny complete happiness; and had I been in an African wood, surrounded with venomous serpents, devouring beasts, savage men: in such a frame I should be the subject of perfect peace and exalted joy. Yes, O my God! thou hast taught me that thou alone art worthy of confidence: and with this sentiment fixed in my heart, I am freed from all solicitude about my temporal concerns. If thy presence be enjoyed, poverty shall be riches; darkness, light; affliction, prosperity: reproach, my honor; and fatigue, my rest.”
He loved the Gospel. The truths which he believed and taught dwelt richly in him, in all wisdom and spiritual understanding. The reader will recollect how he went over the great principles of Christianity, examining the grounds on which he rested, in the first of those days which he devoted to solemn fasting and prayer in reference to his becoming a missionary; and with what ardent afitction he set his seal anew to every part of divine truth as he went along.
If salvation had been of works, fev, men, according to our wny of estimating: chanicters, had a fairer claim; but, as he hiinself iins related, he could not liieei the king- of terrors in this armor. So far was he from placing any dependence on his own works, that the more he did for God, the less he thought of it in such a way. “All the satisfaction I wish for here, (says he,) is to be doing my heavenly Father’s will. I hope I have fjund it my meat and drink to do his work; and can set to my seal that the purest pleasures of hum.an life spring from tho humble obedience of faith. It is a good saying, ‘We cannot do too much for God, nor trust in what we do too little.’ I find a growing conviction of the necessity of a free salvation. The more I do for God, the less I think of it; and am progressively ashamed that I do no more.”
Christ crucified was his darling theme, from first to last.* This was the subject on which he dwelt at the outset of his ministry among the Cole-
* Mr. P. being one week-day evening in London, and not engaged ro preach, apked his friend Mr. S. where he couUl hear a good sermon. Mr. S. mentioned fvo places. “Well,” said Mr. P. “tell me the character of the preacher?, that I may choose.” ‘-Mr. D.” said his frienil, “exhibits the orator, and is much admired for his eloquence.” “Well,” said Mr. P. “and what is the other?’ “Why, I hardly know what to say of Mr. C; hs always throws himself in the backgroand. and yoa see his Master only.” “That’s the man for me then,” said the amiable Pearce: “let us go and hear him.”
ford colliers, when “he could scarcely speak for weeping, nor they hear for interrupting sighs and sobs.” This was the burden of the song when addressing the more polished and crowded audiences at Birmingham, London, and Dublin; this was the grand motive exhibited in sermons for the promotion of public charities; and this was the rock on which he rested all his hopes in the prospect of death. It is true, as we have seen, he was shaken for a time by the writings of a Whitby, and of a Priestley; but this transient hesitation, by the overruling grace of God, tended only to establish him more firmly in the end. “Blessed be his dear name (says he, under his last affliction) who shed his blood for me. He helps me to rejoice at times with joy unspeakable. Now I see the value of the religion of the cross. It is a religion for a dying sinner. It is all the most guilty and the most wretched can desire. Yes, I taste its sweetness and enjoy its fullness, whh all the gloom of a dying bed before me; and far rather would I be the poor emaciated and emaciating creature that I am, than be an emperor, with every earthly good about him, but without a God.”
Notwithstanding this, however, there were those in Birmingham, and other places, who would not allow that he preached the Gospel. And if by the Gospel were meant the doctrine taught by Mr. Huntington, Mr. Bradford, and others who followed hard after ihem, it must be granted he did not. If the fill and depravity of man operate to destroy his accouiitableness to his Creator: if his inability to obey the law, or comply with the Gospel, be of such a nature as to excuse him in the neglect of either; or, if not, yet if Christ’s coming under the law frees believers from all obligations to obey its precepts; if Gospel invitations are addressed only to the regenerate; if the illuminating influences of the Holy Spirit consist in revealing to us the secret purposes of God concerning us, or impressing us with the idea that we are the favorites of heaven; if believing such impressions be Christian faith, and doubting of their validity unbelief; if there be no such thing as progressive sanctification, or any sanctification inherent, except that of the iilinnination before described; if wicked men are not obliged to do any thing beyond what they can find in their hearts to do, nor good men to be holy beyond what they actually are: and if these things constitute the Gospel, Mr. Pearce certainly did not preach it. But if m“an, v.’h:Uever be his depravity, be necessarily a free agent, and accountable for all his dispositions and actions; if Gospel invitations be addressed to men, not as elect nor as non-elect, but as sinners exposed to the righteous displeasure of God; if Christ’s obedience and death rather increase than diminish our ob igations to love God and one another; if faith in Christ be a falling in with God’s way of salvation, and unbelief a falling out with it; if sanctification be a progressive work, and so essential a branch of our salvation as that without it no man shall see the Lord: if the Holy Spirit instruct us in nothing by his illuminating influences but what was already revealed in the Scriptures, and which we should have perceived, but that we loved darkness rather than light; and if he incline us to no” thing but what was antecedently right, or to such a spirit as every intelligent creature ought at all times to possess — then Mr. Pearce did preach the Gospel; and that which his accusers call by this name is another Gospel, and not the Gospel of Christ.
Moreover, if the doctrine taught by Mr, Pearce be not the Gospel of Christ, and that which is taught by the above writers and their adherents be, it may be expected that the effects produced will in some degree correspond with this representation. And is it evident to all men who are acquainted with both, and who judge impartially, that the doctrine taught by Mr. Pearce is productive of hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, railings, evil surmisings, and perverse disputings; that it renders those who embrace it lovers of their ownselves, covetous, boasters, proud, false accusers, fierce despisers of those that are good; while that of his adversaries promotes love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness,, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance? ....
“WHY EVEN OF YOURSELVES JUDGE YE NOT
WHAT IS RIGHT? ... YE SHALL KNOW THEM BY
THEIR FRUITS.”
Mr. Pearce’s ideas of preaching human obligation may be seen in the following extract from a letter addressed to a young minister, who was sent out of the church of which he was pastor: — “You request my thoughts how a minister should preach human obligation. I would reply, do it extensively, do it constantly; but withal do it affectionately and evangelically. I think, considering the general character of our hearers and the state of their mental improvement, it would be time lost to argue much from the data of natural religion. The best way is, perhaps, to express duties in Scripture language, and enforce them by evangelical motives; as the example of Christ — the end of his sufferings and death — the consciousness of his approbation — the assistance he has promised — the influence of a holy conversation on God’s people, and on the people of the world — the small returns we at best can make for the love of Jesus — and the hope of eternal holiness. These form a body of arguments which the most simple may understand, and the most dull may feel. Yet I would not neglect on some occasions to show the obligations of man to love his Creator — the reasonableness of the divine law — and the natural tendency of its commands to promote our own comfort, the good of society, and the glory of God. These will serve to illuminate: but, after all, it is the Gospel of the grace of God that will most efTectually animate and impel to action.”
Mr. Pearce’s affection to the doctrine of the cross “was not merely, nor principally, on account of its being- a system which secured his own safety. Had this been the case, he might, like others whose religion originates and terminates in self-love, have been delighted u’ith the idea of the grnce of the Son; but it would have been at the expense of all complacency in the righteous government of the Father. He might have admired something which he accounted the Gospel, as saving him from misery; but he could have discerned no loveliness in the divine law, as being holy, just, and good, nor in the mediation of Christ, as doing honor to it. That which in his view constituted the glory cf the Gospel was, that God is therein revealed as the just God and the Saviorjust, and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus.
He teas a lover of good men. He was never more in his element than when joining with them in spiritual conversation, prayer, and praise. His heart was tenderly attached to the people of his charge; and it was one of the bitterest ingredients in his cup, during his long affliction, to be cut off from their society. When in the neighborhood of Plymouth, he thus writes to Mr. King, one of the deacons:” Give my love to all the dear people. O pray that He who afflicts would give me patience to endure. Indeed, the state of suspense in which I have been kept so
SAMUEL PEARCE. 2’iO
long re(]ulres much of it; and I often exclaim, ere I am aware, O my dear people! O my dear family! when shall I return to you agam?” He was a dissenter and a Baptist from conscientious principles; yet he embraced with brotherly affection great numbers of godly men, whose sentiments differed from his own, both in and out of the establishment. His spirit was truly catholic: he loved all who loved our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity. “Let us pray (said he in a letter to a friend) for the peace of Jerusalem: they shall prosper who love — not this part or the other, but who love her — that is, the whole body of Christ,”*
He bare good will to all mankind. — It was from this principle that he so ardently desired to go and preach the Gospel among the heathen. And even under his long affliction, when at tmies he entertained hopes of recovery, he would say —” My soul pants for usefulness more extensive than ever: I
The following anecdote will illustrate the tender respect with which he uniformly treated the feelings of those from whom he conscientiously differed in sentiment or practice.
He one day heard that Mr. Cecil was in Birmiiigham, and had preached two Wednesday evenings at St. Mary’s Chapel. Mr. P. arranged his time to hear him one evening; but an unexpected occurrence detained him so late that, when he came to the chapel, the prayers were nearly concluded. He remarks that, in these circumstances, he thought it best not to enter, lest, being a public character, his doing so should be construed into a designed contempt for the church service.
long to become an aposlle to the world!“‘The errors and the sins of men wrought much in him in a way of pity. He knew that they were culpable in the sight of God: but he knew also that he himself was a sinner and felt that they were entitled to his compassion, His zeal for the divinity and atonement of his Savior never appeared to operate in a way of unchristian bitterness against those who rejected these important doctrines; and, though he was shamefully traduced, by professors of another description, as a mere legal preacher, and his ministry held up as affording no food for the souls of believers; and, though he could not but feel the injury of such misrepresentations, yet he does not appear to have cherished unchristian resentment, but would at any time have laid himself out for the good of his worst enemies. It was his constant endeavor to promote as good an understanding between the different congregations in the town as the nature of their different religious sentiments would admit. The cruel bitterness of many people against Dr. Priestley and his friends, at and after the Birmingham riots, was affecting to his mind. Such methods of opposing error he abhorred. His regard to mankind made him lament the consequences of war; but while he wished and prayed for peace to the nations, and especially to his native country, he had no idea of turbulently contending for it. Though friendly to civil and religious liberty, he stood aloof from the fire oi* political contenllon. In an excellent circular letter to the churches of the Midland Association in 1794, he thus expresses himself; “Have as little as possible to flo with the world. IMeddle not with political controversies. An inordinate pursuit of these, we are sorry to observe, has been a cankerworni at the root of vital piety, and caused the love of many, formerly zealous professors, to wax cold.. The Lord reigneth; it is our place to rejoice in his government, and quietly wait for the salvation of God. The establishment of his kingdom will be the uhimate end of all those national commotions which terrify the earth. The wrath of man shall praise him; and the remainder of wrath he will restrain.” From this time, more than ever, he turned his whole attention to the promoting of the kingdom of Christ; cherishing and recommending a spirit of contentment and gratUude for the civil and religious advantages that we enjoyed. Such were the sentiments inculcated in the last sermon that he printed, and the last one that he preached. His dear young friends who went to India will never forget how earnestly he charged them by letter, when confined vA Plymouth, to conduct themselves in all civil matters as peaceable and obedient subjects to the government under which they lived, in vrhatever country it might be their lot to reside.
It u-<.s love that tempered faithfulness with so lari,e a portion of tender concern fur the good of those whose conduct he teas obliged to censure. H« could not bear them that were evil, but would set himself against them with the greatest firmness; yet it was easy to discover the pain of mind with which this necessary part of duty was discharged. It ia well remembered how he conducted himself towards certain preachers in the neighborhood, who, wandering from place to place, corrupted and embroiled the churches; whose conduct he knew to be as dishonorable as their prmciples were loose and unscriptural: and, when requested to recite particulars in his own defence, his fear and tenderness for character, his modest reluctance to accuse persons older than himself, and his deep concern that men engaged in the Christian ministry should render such accusations necessary, were each conspicuous, and proved to all present that the work of an accuser was to him a strange work.
It was love that expanded his heart, and prompted him to labor, in season and out of season, for the salvation of sinners. This was the spring of that constant stream of activity by which his life was distinguished. His conscience would not suffer him to decline what appeared to be right. “I dare not refuse (he would say) lest I should shrink from duty. Unjustifiable ease is worse than the most difiicuil labors to which duty calls.” To persons who never entered into his views or feelings, some parts of his conduct, especially those which relate to his desire
6AMLEL PEARCE. 253
of quitting his country that he might preach the Gospel to the heathen, will appear extravagant; but no man could with greater propriety have adopted the language of the Apostle, “Whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God; or whether we be sober, it is for your cause; for the love of Christ constraineth us.”
He was frequently told that his exercises were too great for his strength; but such was the ardor of his mind — “he could not die in a better work.” When he went up into the pulpit to deliver his last sermon, he thought he should not have been able to get through; but, when he got a little warm, he felt relieved, and forgot his indisposition, preaching with as much fervor and freedom as when in perfect health. While he was laid aside he could not forbear hoping that he should some time resume his delightful work; and, knowing the strength of his feelings to be such that it would be unsafe to trust himself, he proposed for a time to write his discourses, that his mind might not be at liberty to overdo his debilitated frame.
All his co-unsels, cautions, and reproofs appear to have been the effect of love. It was a rule, dictated by his tieart .no less than by his judgment, to discourage all evil-speaking: nor would he approve of just censure, unless some good and necessary end were to be answered by it. Two of his distant friends being at his house together, one of them, during the absence of the other, suggested something to his disadvantage. He put a stop to the conversation by answering, “He is here, take him aside, and tell him of it by himself: you may do him good.”
If he perceived any of his acquaintance bewildered in fruitless speculations, he would in an affectionate manner endeavor to draw off their attention from these mazes of confusion to the simple doctrine of the cross. A specimen of this kind of treatment will be seen in the letter No. 1, towards the close of this chapter.
He was affectionate to all, but especially towards the rising generation. The youth of his own congregation, of London and Dublin, long remembered his melting discourses which were particularly addressed to them. He took much delight in speaking to the children, and would adapt himself to their capacities, and expostulate with them on the things which belong to their everlasting peace. While at Plymouth, he wrote thus to one of his friends: — “Oh how should I rejoice, were there a speedy prospect of my returning to my great and little congregations!” Nor was it by preaching only that he sought their eternal welfare: several of his letters are addressed to young persons. See No. ii. iii. and iv. towards the close of this chapter.
With what joy did he congratulate one of his most intimate friends, on hearing that three of the younger branches of his family had apparently been brought to take the Redeemer’s yoke upon them! “Thanks, thanks, thanks be to God,” said he, “for the enrapturing prospects before you as a father, as a Christian father especially. What, three of a family! and these three at once! O the heights, and depths, and lengths, and breadths of this unfathomable grace! My soul feels joy unspeakable at the blessed news. Three immortal souls secured for eternal life I Three rational spirits preparing to grace Immanuel’s triumphs and sing his praise! Three examples of virtue and goodness, exhibiting the genuine influence of the true religion of Jesus before the world! Perhaps three mothers training up to lead three future families in the way to heaven. O what a train of blessings do I see in this event! Most sincerely do I participate with my dear friend in his pleasures and in his gratitude.”
Towards the close of life, writing to the same friend, he thus concludes his letter:” Present our
love to dear Mrs. and the family, especially
those; whose hearts are engaged to seek the Lord and his goodness. O tell them they will find him good all their lives, supremely good on dying beds, but best of all in glory.”
In his visits to the sick he was singularly useful. His sympathetic conversation, affectionate prayers, and endearing manner of recommending to them a compassionate Savior, frequently operated as a cordial to their troubled hearts. A young man of his congregation was dangerously ill: his father, living at a distance, was anxious to hear froni him; and Mr. Pearce, in a letter to the minister on whose preaching the father attended, wrote as follows:
“I feel for the anxiety of Mr. V, and am hapj)y in being at this time a Barnabas to him. I was not seriously alarmed for his son till last Tuesday, when I expected, from every symptom and the language of his physician, that he was nigh unto death. But, to our astonishment and joy, a surprising change has since taken place. I saw him yesterday apparently in a fair way for recovery. His mind for the first part of his illness was sometimes joyful, and almost constantly calm; but, when at the worst, suspicions crowded his mind; he feared that he had been a hypocrite. I talked, and prayed, and wept with him. One scene was very affecting: both he and his wife appeared like persons newly awakened. They never felt so strongly the importance of religion before. He conversed about the tenderness of Jesus to broken-hearted sinners; and, whilst we spoke, it seemed as though he came and began to heal the wound. It did me good, and I trust was not unavailing to them. They have since been for the most part happy; and a very pleasant interview I had with them on the past day.”
Every man must have his seasons of relaxation. In his earlier years Mr. P. would take strong bodily exercise. Afterwards he occasicn&lly employed himself with the microscope, in the stuiy of natural history, and in making a few philosophical experiments. “We will amuse ourselves with philosophy, (said he to a philosophical friend,) but Jesus shall be our teacher.” In all these exercises he seems never to have lost sight of God; but would be discovering something in his works that furnished matter for praise and admiration. His mind did not appear to have been unfitted, but rather assisted, by such pursuits, for the discharge of the more spiritual exercises into which he would fall, at a proper season, as into his native element. If in company v/iih his friends, and the conversation turned upon the works of nature, or art, or any other subject of science, he would cheerfully take a part in it; and when occasion required, by some easy and pleasant transition direct it into another channel. An ingenious friend once showed him a model of a machine which he thought of constructing, and by which he hoped to be able to produce a perpetual motion. Mr. Pearce, having patiently inspected it, discovered where the operation would stop, and pointed it out. His friend was convinced, and felt, as may be supposed, rather unpleasant at this disappointment. He consoled him; and, a prayer meeting being at hand, said to this effect,” We may learn from hence our own insufficiency, and the glory of that Being who is wonderful in counsel and ex-
2-33 JIKMUIH OF
celleiit ill working: let us go and worship him.” His mind and gentle disposition, not apt to take or give offence, often won upon persons in matters wherein at first they have shown themselves averse. When collecting for the Baptist Mission, a gentleman who had no knowledge of him, or of the conductors of that undertaking, made some objections, on the ground that the Baptists had little or nothing to say to the unconverted. This objection Mr. Pearce attempted to remove, by alledging that the parties concerned in this business were entirely of another mind. “I am glad to hear it, (said the gentleman,) but 1 have my fears.” “Then pray, sir, (said Mr, Pearce,) do not give till you are satisfied.” “Wh% I assure you, (replied the other,) I think the Methodists more likely to succeed than you; and should feel more pleasure in giving them ten guineas, than you one.” “If you give them twenty guineas, sir, (said Mr. Pearce,) we shall rejoice in their success; and if you give us one, I hope it will not be misapplied.” The gentleman smiled, and gave him four.
His figure, to a superficial observer, would, at first sight, convey nothing very interesting; but, on close inspection, his countenance would be acknowledged to be a faithful index to his soul. Calm, placid, and, when in the pulpit especially, full of animation; his appearance was not a little expressive of the interest he felt in the eternal welfare of his audience; his eyes beaming benignity, and speaking, in the most impressive language, his willingness to impart, not only the Gospel of God, but his own soul also.
His imagination was vivid, and his judgment clear. He relishe<l the elegancies of science, and felt alive to the most delicate and refined sentiments; yet these were things on account of which he does not appear to have valued himself They were rather his amusements than his employment.
His address was easy and insinuating: his voice pleasant, but sometimes overstrained in the course of his sermon; his language chaste, flowing, and inclining to the florid; this last, however, abated as his judgment ripened. His delivery was rather slow than rapid: his attitude graceful; and his countenance, in almost all his discourses, approaching to an affectionate smile. He never appears, however, to have studied what are called the graces of pulpit action; and, whatever he had read concerning them, it was manifest that he thought nothing of them, or of any other of the ornaments of speech, at the time. Both his action and language were the genuine expressions of an ardent mind, affected, and sometimes deeply, with his subject. Being rather below the common stature, and disregarding, or rather, I might say, disapproving every thing pompous in his appearance, upon some occasions persons were prejudiced to his disadvantage: but the song of the nightingale is not the less melodious for his not appearing in a gaudy plum* age. His manner of preparing for the pulpit may be seen in a letter addressed to Mr. Cave,, of Leicester, who was sent out of his church, and which may be of use to others in a similar situation. See No. V. towards the close of this chapter.
His ministry was highly acceptable to persons of education: but he appears to have been most in his element when preaching to the poor. The feelings which he himself expresses, when instructing the colliers, appear to have continued with him through life. It was his delight to carry the glad tidings of salvation into the vill?.ges, wherever he could find access and opportunity. And, as he sought the good of the souls of the poor, so he both labored and suffered to relieve their temporal wants: living himself in a style of frugality and self-denial, that he might have whereof to give to them that needed.
Finally, he possessed a large ‘portion of real happiness. There are few characters whose enjoyments, both natural and spiritual, have risen to so great a height. He dwelt in love: and he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God in him. Such a life must needs be happy. If his religion had originated and terminated in self-love, as some contend the whole of religion does, his joys had been not only of a different nature, but far less extensive than they were. His interest was bound up with that of his Lord and Savior. Its afflictions were his afliictions, and its joys his joy. The grand object of his desire was to see the good of God’s chosen, to rejoice in the gladness of his nation, and to glory with his inheritance. “What pleasures do those lose (said he) who have no interest in God’s gracious and holy cause.”
If an object of joy presented itself to his mind, he would delight in multiplying it by its probable or possible consequences. Thus it was, as we have seen, in his congratulating his friend on the conversion of three of his children; and thus it was, when speaking of a people who had divided into two congregations, not from discord, but from an increase of numbers, and who generously united in erecting a new and additional place of worship. “These liberal souls are subscribing (said he) in order to support a religion which, as far as it truly prevails, will render others as liberal as themselves.”
His heart was so much formed for social enjoyment, that he seems to have contemplated the heavenly state under this idea with peculiar advantage. This was the leading theme of a discourse from Rev. 7: 9, which, as before mentioned, he delivered at a meeting of ministers at Arnsby, April 18, 1797, and of which his brethren retained a lively remembrance. On this pleasing subject he dwells also in a letter to his dear friend Birt: “I had much pleasure, a few days since, in meditating on the affectionate language of our Lord to his sorrowful disciples — I go to prepare a place for you. What a plenitude of consolation do these words contain! what a sweet view of heaven as a place of society! It is one place for us all; that place where his glorified body is, there all his followers shall assemble to part no more. Where he is, there we shall be also. O blessed anticipation! There shall be Abel and all the martyrs; Abraham, and all the patriarchs; Isaiah, and all the prophets; Paul, and all the apostles; Gabriel, and all the angels; and, above all, Jesus, and all his ransomed people. O, to be amongst the number! My dear brother, let us be strong in the liOrd. Let us realize the bliss before us. Let our faith bring heaven itself near, and feast and live upon the scene. O what a commanding influence would it have upon our thoughts, passions, comforts, sorrows, words, ministry, prayers, praises, and conduct! What manner of persons should we be in all holy conversation and godliness I”
In many persons the pleasures imparted by religion are counteracted by a gloomy constitution: but it was not so in him. In his disposition they met with a friendly soil. Cheerfulness was as natural to him as breathing; and this spirit, sanctified by the grace of God, gave a tincture to all his thoughts, conversation, and preaching. He was seldom heard without tears: but they were frequently tears of pleasure. No levity, no attempts at wit, no aiming to excite the risibility of an audience, ever disgraced his sermons. Religion to him was habitual seriousness, mingled with sacred pleasure, frequently rising into sublime delight, and occasionally overflowing with transporting joy.
LETTERS
REFERRED TO IN THIS CHAPTER.
To a young man whoso mind was bewildered with fruitlesa Fpeealation*
“The conversation we had on our way to,
so far interested me in your religious feelings, that I find it impossible to satisfy my mind till 1 have expressed my ardent wishes for the happy termination of your late exercises, and contributed my mite to the promotion of your joy in the Lord. A disposition more or less given to ’ scepticism,’ I believe, is common to our nature, in proportion as opposite Systems and jarring opinions, each supported by a plausibility of argument, are presented to our minds; and with some qualification I admit Robinson’s remark, that he who never doubted, never believed.’ While examining the grounds of persuasion, it is right for the mind to hesitate. Opinions ought not to be prejudged any more than criminals. Every objection ought to have its weight; and the more numerous and forcible objections are, the more cause shall wo finally have for the triumph, ‘Magna est Veritas et prevalebit;’ [Truth is great and will prevail ;] but there are two or three considerations which have no small weight with me in relation to religious controversies.
The first is, the importance of truth. It would be endless to write on truth in general. I confine my views to what I deem the leading truth in the New Testament — the atonement made on behalf of sinners by the Son of God; the doctrine of the Cross; Jesus Christ, and him crucified. It surely cannot be a matter of small concern, whether the Creator of all things, out of mere love to rebellious men, ex* changed a throne for a cross, and thereby reconciled a ruined world to God. If this be not true, how can we respect the Bible as an inspired book, which so plainly attributes our salvation to the grace of God, through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus? And if we discard the Bibb, what can we do with prophecies, miracles, and all the power of evidence, on which, as on adamantine pillars, its authority abides? Surely the infidel has more to reject than the believer to embrace. That book then which we receive, not as the word of man, but as the word of God — not as the religion of our ancestors, but on .the invincible conviction which attends an impartial investigation of its evidences — that book reveals a truth of the highest importance to man, consonant to the
Opinions of the earliest ages and the most enlightened nations, perfectly consistent with the Jewish economy as to its spirit and design, altogether adapted to unite the equitable and merciful perfections of the Deity in the sinner’s salvation; and, above all things, calculated to beget the most established peace, to inspire with the liveliest hope, and to engage the heart and life in habitual devotedness to the interests of morality and piety. Such a doctrine I cannot but venerate; and to the author of such a doctrine my whole soul labors to exhaust itself in praise.
O the sweet wonders of the cross,
Where God rny Savior lov’d and died V
“Forgive, my friend, forgive the transport of a Eoul compelled to feel where it attempts only to explore. I cannot on this subject control my passions by the laws of logic. God forbid that I should glory save in the cross of Christ Jesus my Lord.
“Secondly, I consider man as a depraved creature — so depraved that his judgment is as dark as his appetites are sensual; wholly dependent on God. therefore, for religious light as well as true devotion, yet such a dupe to pride as to reject every thing which the narrow limits of his comprehension cannot embrace, and such a slave to his passions as to admit no law but self-interest for his government. With these views of human nature, I am persuaded we ought to suspect our own decisions, whenever they oppose truths too sublime for our understandings, or too pure for our lusts. To err on this side, indeed, ’ is human;’ wherefore the vrise man saith, ‘He that trusteih to his own heart is a fool’ Should therefore the evidence be only equal on the side of the Gospel of Christ, I should think, with this allowance, we should do well to admit it.
“Thirdly, if the Gospel of Christ be true, it should be heartily embraced. We should yield ourselves to its influence without reserve. We must come to a point, and resolve to be ejther Infidels or Christians. To know the power of the sun, we should expose ourselves to its rays: to know the sweetness of honey, we must bring it to our palates. Speculation will not do in either of these cases; much less will it in matters of religion. My son, saith God, give me thine heart!
“Fourthly, a humble admission of the light we already have, is the most effectual way to a full conviction of the truth of the doctrine of Christ. ‘If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God.’ If we honor God as far as we know his will, he will honor us with farther discoveries of it. ‘Thus shall we know, if we follow on to know the Lord;’ thus, thus shall you, my dear friend, become assured that there is salvation in no other name than that of Jesus Christ; and thus, from an inward experience of the quickening influences of his Holy Spirit, you will join the admirino- church, cid say of Jesus, ‘This is my beloved, this is my friend; he is the chiefest among ten thousand, he is altogether lovely.’ Yes, I yet hope, I expect, to see you rejoicing in Christ Jesus, and appearing as a living witness that he is faithful who hath said, ‘Seek and ye shall find; ask, and receive, that your joy may be full.’ S. P.”
In another letter to the same correspondent, after congratulating himself that he had discovered such a mode of killing noxious insects as should put them to the least pain, and which was characteristic of the tenderness of his heart, he proceeds as follows:” But enough of nature. How is my brother as a Christian? We have had some interesting moments in conversation on the methods of grace, that grace whose influence reaches to the day of adversity and the hour of death; seasons when of every thing else it may be said, miserable comforters are ye all! My dear friend, we will amuse ourselves with philosophy, but Christ shall be our teacher; Christ shall be our glory; Christ shall be our portion. O that we may be enabled ‘to comprehend the heights, and depths, and lengths, and breadths, and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge I’
“Affectionately yours, S, P.”
No. ir
To a young gentleman of bis acquaintance, who was then stuJylng physic at Edinburijh,
“Did my dear friend P know with what sincere affection and serious concern I almost daily think of him, he would need no other evidence of the effect which his last visit and his subsequent letters have produced. Indeed, there is not a young man in the world, in earlier life than myself, for whose universal prosperity I am so deeply interested. Many circumstances I can trace, on a review of the past fourteen years, which have contributed to beget and augment affection and esteem; and I can assure you that every interview and every letter still tend to consolidate my regard.
“Happy should I be, if my ability to serve you at this important crisis of human life were equal to your wishes of my own. Your situation demands all the aids which the wisdom and prudence of your friends can afford, that you may be directed not only to the most worthy objects of pursuit, but also to the most effectual means of obtaining them. In your professional character it is impossible for me to give you any assistance. If any general observations I can make should prove at all useful, I shall be richly rewarded for the time I employ in their communication.
“I thank you sincerely for the freedom wherewith you have disclosed the peculiarities of your situation, and the views and resolutions wherewith they have inspired you. I can recommend nothing better, my dear friend, than a determined adherence to the purposes you have already formed respecting the intimacies you contract and the associates you choose. In such a place as Edinburgh, it may be supposed, no description of persons will be wanting. Some so notoriously vicious that their atrocity of character will have no small tendency to confirm your morals, from the odious contrast which their practices present to your view. Against these, therefore, I need not caution you. You will flee from them as so many serpents, in whose breath is venom and destruction. More danger may be apprehended from those mixed characters who blend the profession of philosophical refinement with the secret indulgence of those sensual gratifications which at once exhaust the pocket, destroy the health, and debase the character.
“That morality is friendly to individual happiness and to social order, no man, who respects his own conscience or character, will have the effrontery to deny. Its avenues cannot, therefore, be too sacredly guarded, nor those principles which support a virtuous practice be too seriously maintained. But morality derives, it is true, its best, its only support from the principles of religion. ‘The fear of the Lord (said the wise man) is to hate evil.’ He, therefore, who endeavors to weaken the sanctions of religion, to induce a sceptical habit, to detach my thoughts from an ever-present God, and my hopes from a futurity of holy enjoyment, is a worse enemy than the man who meets me with the pistol and the dagger. Should my dear friend then fail into the company of those whose friendship cannot be purchased but by the sacrifice of revelation, I hope he will ever think such a price too great for the good opinion of men who blaspheme piety and dishonor God. Deism is, indeed, the fashion of the day; and, to be in the mode, you must quit the good old path of devotion, as too antiquated for any but monks and hermits; so as you laugh at religion, that is enough to secure to you the company and the applause of the sons of politeness. O that God may be a luckier and a shield to defend you from their assaults! Let but their private morals be inquired into, and, if they may have a hearing, I dare engage they will not bear a favorable testimony to the good tendency of scepticism; and it may be regarded as an indisputable axiom, that what is unfriendly to virtue, is unfriendly to man.
“Were I to argue a posteriori in favor of truth, 1 should contend that those principles must be true, which (first) corresponded with general observation — (secondly) tended to general happiness — (thirdly) preserved a uniform connection between cause and effect, evil and remedy, in all situations.
“I would then apply these data to the principles held on the one side by the deists, and on the other by the believers in revelation. In the application of the first, I would refer to the state of human nature. The deist contends for its purity and powers. Revelation declares its depravity and weakness. I compare these opposite declarations with the facts that fall under constant observation. Do I not see that there is a larger portion of vice in the world than of virtue; that no man needs solicitation to evil, but every man a guard against it; and that thousands bewail their subjection to lusts which they have not power to subdue, whilst they live in moral slavery, and cannot burst the chain? Which principle then shall I admit? Will observation countenance the deistical? I am convinced to the contrary; and muit say, I cannot be a deist without becoming a fool; and, to exalt my reason, I must deny my senses.
“I take the second datum, and inquire which tends most to general happiness? To secure happiness, three things are necessary: — object, means, and motives. The question is — which points out the true source of happiness; which directs to the best means of attaining it; and which furnishes me with the most powerful motives to induce my pursuit of it? If I take a deist for my tutor, he tells me that fame is the object; universal accommodation of manners to interest the means; and self-love the spring of action. Sordid teacher I From him I turn to Jesus, [lis better voice informs me that the source of felicity is the friendship of my God; that love to my Maker and love to man, expressed in all the noble and amiable effusions of devotion and benevolence, are the means; and that the glory of God and the happiness of the universe must be my motives. Blessed Instructor! thy dictates approve themselves to every illuminated conscience, to every pious heart! Do they not, my dear P — — , approve themselves to yours?
“But I will not tire your patience by pursuing these remarks. Liule did I think of such amplification when I first took up my pen. O that I may have the joy of finding that these (at least well meant) endeavors to establish your piety have not been ungraciously received, nor wholly unprofitable to your mind! I am encouraged to these effusions of friendship by that amiable self distrust which your letter expresses; a temper not only becoming the earlier stages of life, but graceful in all its advancing periods.
“Unspeakable satisfaction does it afford me to find that you are conscious of the necessity of ’ first ’ seeking assistance from heaven. Retain, my dear friend, this honorable, this equitable sentiment. ‘In all thy ways acknowledge God, and he shall direct thy paths.’
“I hope you will still be cautious in your intimacies. You will irain more by a half hour’s intercourse with God than the friendship of the whole college can impart. Too much acquaintance would he followed with a waste of that precious time, on the present improvement of which your future usefulness and respectability in your profession depend. Like the bee, you may do best by sipping the sweets of every flower; but, remember, the sweetest blossom is not the hive.
“Yours very affectionately, S. P.”
No. III.
To ft young lady at school, a daughter of one of the mcmbersof his church.
“I cannot deny myself the pleasure which this opportunity affords me of expressing the concern I feel for your happiness, arising from the sincerest friendship — a friendship which the many amiable qualities you possess, together with the innumerable opportunities I have had of seeing them displayed, have taught me to form and perpetuate.
“It affords me inexpressible pleasure to hear that you are so happy in your present situation — a situation in which I rejoice to see you placed, because it is not merely calculated to embellish the manners, but to profit the soul. I hope that my dear Ann, amidst the various pursuits of an ornamental or scientific nature which she may adopt, will not omit that first, that great concern, the dedication of her heart to God. To this, my dear girl, every thing invites you that is worthy of your attention. The dignity of a rational and immortal soul, the condition of human nature, the gracious truths and promises of God, the sweetness and usefulness of religion, the comfort it yields in affliction, the security it affords in temptation, the support it gives in death, and the prospects it opens of life everlasting; all these considerations, backed with the uncertainty of life, the solemnity of judgment, the terrors of hell, and the calls of conscience and of God — all demand your heart for the blessed Jehovah. This, and nothing short of this, is true religion. You have often heard, and often written on religion: it is time you should feel it now. O what a blessedness will attend your hearty surrender of yourself to the God and Father of men! Methinks I see all the angels of God rejoicing at the sight, all the saints in heaven partaking of their joy; Jesus himself, who died for sinners, gazing on you with delight; your own heart filled with peace and joy in believing; and a thousand streams of goodness flowing from your renovated soul to refresh the aged saint, and to encourage your fellow-youth to seek first the kingdom of heaven, and press on to God. But O, should I be mistaken! Alas, alas — I cannot bear the thought, O thou Savior of sinners and God of love, take captive the heart of my dear young friend, and make her truly willing to be wholly thine!
“If you can find freedom, do oblige me with a letter on the state of relig-ion in your own soul, and be assured of every sympathy or advice that I am capable of feeling or giving. S. P.”
No. IV.
T6 a young gentlcmao in Dublin, writtco soon after Mr. P.’s feturn from that city.
•’Dear Master R.
“Your letter of the 21st of July gave me no small degree of pleasure, and should have been answered long before now, had not my numerous engagements at home compelled me to suspend my correspondence abroad. Except one letter, which I sent to Dublin to inform rny friends of my safe return, this is the first day in which I have found time to write to Ireland since I left it. You will not, therefore, think me forgetful of you, or unconcerned about ‘Our prosperity: believe me, from the first conversation I had with you to the present moment, I have felt no small degree of solicitude for your eternal interests. Happy, indeed, shall I be to find that you continue anxious to secure them; for what are all the honors, the pleasures, or the wealth of this world, when compared with the spiritual and abiding blessings of religion 7 Could we insure all that is esteemed by men, and en’py it uninterruptedly for a thousand ages, yet, when those ages have passed, how miserable should we be without religion!
But life is short, and the pleasures of it are embittered by many crosses and trials, so that our earthly comforts yield but little good, ‘nor yield that little long.’ It is, therefore, most blessed advice that our Savior gives, John, 6: 27: ‘Labor not for the bread which perisheth, but for that bread which endureth to everlasting life,’ &c. Observe, my dear young friend, what our Savior teaches you in these words.
“1. That religion is to the soul what bread is to the body: it feeds, nourishes, and strengthens the mind. 2. This heavenly bread affords abiding comfort and support: it ’ endures to everlasting life.’ 3. The enjoyment of this sacred food deserves our most earnest pursuit. ‘Labor’ for it. Let your whole heart and soul be in this great business of religion. If it be not sought and secured, how tremendous the consequences! the soul is lost — lost -lost for ever! O seek, therefore, my dear youth, ’ seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near,’ draw nigh to him, and he will draw nigh to you. 4. It must be received, not as the reward of any good thing in you, or for any good thing to be done by you: ‘The Son of man will give it to you.’ Yes, were we to have nothing but what we deserve, our best portion would be hell; but, ’ of his mercy he saves us, according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ before the world began.’ 2 Tim. 1: 9, From the mercy of Christ you must receive every thing. Here you must apply for pardon. Here you must come for wisdom. Here you must receive strength and comfort. ‘All is in Christ, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption.’ 1 Cor. 1: 30.
No. V.
To a young Minister, on preparation for the PulpiL *’ My dear Brotber,
“Your first letter gave me much pleasure. I hoped you would learn some useful lesson from the first Sabbath’s disappointment. Every thing is good that leads us to depend more simply on the Lord. Could I choose my frames, I would say respecting industry in preparation for public work, as is frequently said respecting Christian obedience, I would apply as closely as though I expected no help from the Lord, whilst I would depend upon the Lord for assistance as though I had never made any preparation at all *’ Your last has occasioned me some pain on your account, because it informs me that you have been exceedingly tried in the pulpit:’ but I receive satisfaction again from considering that the gloom ofmidnight precedes the rising day, not only in the natural world, but frequently also in the Christian minister’s experience. Do not be discouraged, my dear brother; those whose labors God has been pleased most eminently to bless, have generally had their days of prosperity ushered in with clouds and storms. You are in the sieve; but the sieve is in’ our Savior’s hands; and he will not suffer any thing but the chaff’ to fall through, let him winnow us as often as he may.
•’ You ask direction of me, my dear brother, I am too inexperienced myself to be capable of directing others; yet, if the little time I have been employed for God has furnished me with any thing worthy of communication, it will be imparted to no one with more readiness than to you,
“I should advise you, when you have been distressed by hesitation, to reflect whether it arose from an inability to recollect your .ideas, or to obtain words suited to convey them. If the former, I think these two directions may be serviceable: First, endeavor to think in a train. Let one idea depend upon another in your discourses, as one link does upon another in a chain. For this end I have found it necessary to arrange my subjects in the order of time. Thus, for instance — if speaking of the promises, 1 would begin with those whih were suited to the earliest inquiries of a convinced soul, as pardon, assistance in prayer, wisdom, &c.; then go to those parts of Christian experience which are usually subsequent to the former, as promises of support in afflictions, deliverance from temptations, and perseverance in grace; closing with a review of those which speak of support in death, and final glory. Then all the varieties of description respecting the glory of heaven will follow in natural order; as the enlargement of the understanding, purification of the affections, inte-course with saints, angels, and even Christ himself, which will be eternal. Thus beginning with the lowest marks of grace, and ascending step by step, you arrive at last to the fruition of faith. This mode is most natural and most pleasing to the hearers, as well as assisting to the preacher; for one idea gives birth to another, and he can hardly help going forward regularly and easily.
“Secondly, labor to render your ideas transparent to yourself Never offer to introduce a thought which you cannot see through before you enter the pulpit. You have read in Claude, that the best preparative to preach from a subject is to understand it: and I think Bishop Burnet says, no man properly understands any thing who cannot at any time represent it to others.
If your hesitation proceeds from a want of words, I should advise you — (1.) To read good and easy authors; Dr. Watts especially. (2.) To write a great part of your sermons, and for a while get at least the leading ideas of every head of discourse by heart, enlarging only at the close of every thought. (3.) Sometimes, as in the end of sermons, or when you preach in villages, start off in preaching beyond all you have premeditated. Fasten on some leading ideas; as, the solemnity of death, the awfulness of judgment, the necessity of a change of heart, the willingness of Christ to save, &c. Never mind how far you ramble from the point, so that you do not lose sight of it; and, if your heart be any way warm, you will find some expressions then fall from your lips which your imagination could not produce in an age of studious application. (4.) Divest yourself of all fear. If you should break the rules of grammar, or put in or leave out a word, and recollect at the end of the sentence the impropriety; unless it makes nonsense, or bad divinity, never try to mend it, but let it pass. If so, perhaps only a few would notice it; but, if you stammer in trying to mend it, you w expose yourself to all the congregation.
‘• In addition to all I have said, you know where to look, and from whom to seek that wisdom and strength which only God can give. To him I recommend you, my dear brother, assuring you of my real esteem for you, and requesting you will not iliil to pray for the least of saints, but
“Yours affectionately, S. P.”