Memoirs of the Life and Character of Mrs. Sarah Savage

In November last, going to Shrewsbury to preach for the Swan Hill Sunday School, I called upon my amiable and worthy friend, the Editor of the following sheets. He shewed me a number of manuscript volumes, filled with the diary and remarks of Mrs. Savage; and intimated some design of publishing a selection from them. I was so impressed and delighted after hearing various extracts indiscriminately taken, that I applauded the wish, and endeavoured to accelerate the accomplishment of it. Having, therefore, rendered myself in some measure responsible for the publication by my opinion and advice, I the more readily comply with his desire in writing a few words by way of introduction.

The relationship of this good woman will deservedly bespeak some peculiar attention to the following pages: for who, without sentiments of love and veneration, can think of Philip Henry, her father, and of Matthew Henry, her brother?

The daughter and sister was worthy of her excellent kindred. She possessed much of their piety, and no inconsiderable share of their talent. She had their familiar acquaintance with the Scripture; their prompt remembrance of its significant phrases; and their easy and pertinent accommodation of them to events. She had the same devoutness of remark; the same sprightliness of observation; the same degree of quaintness — just sufficient to awaken notice, and aid recollection, but not enough entirely to offend good taste.

She was “a gracious woman, and she retains honour.” By the providence of Ilim who has said, “Them that honour me I will honour,” after serving her generation according to the will of God, and falling asleep, her memory, at the distance of more than a century, is blessed; and her works, written in the closet, praise her in the gate.

The species of writing, in which she so largely indulged, was far more common in her days than it is in ours. It has been abused, and rendered ridiculous by its minuteness and too frequent publication: yet properly conducted, it would prove eminently conducive to usefulness. It would promote communion with Providence, and bring a man within the reach of the promise, “Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord.” It would secure the habit of retirement, and the practice of self-inspection. It would enable the writer, in review, to compare himself with himself, and awaken humiliation and repentance, when instead of growing in grace, and in the knowledge of his Lord and Saviour, he found that he was standing still, or had left his first love. — And though we have not the formality of the thing in the Scripture, we have many indications of the principle: as in the names which Joseph and Moses imposed upon their children; in the stone which Samuel reared and called Ebenezer; in the pot of INIanna, and Aaron’s rod that budded, laid up in the ark; in the command, “Thou shall remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the wilderness;” in the reproof, “Of the rock that begat thee thou art unmindful, and hast forgotten the God that formed thee;” in the resokition, “Bless the Lord, 0 my soul, and forget not all his benefits.”

Some Diaries were written, either for the express purpose of meeting the public eye, or in the apprehended probability of it. When this is known to be the case, we cannot peruse them with the same degree of pleasure and freedom, as when they seem written for their own sake, and betray no wish to produce eflect. Nothing was further from the mind of Mrs. Savage, than the public exhibition of what she wrote. It was solely inscribed for her own use and edification. Her views in it she has thus recorded. “It is in my thoughts to do something in the nature of a Diary, being encouraged by the advantage others have gained thereby, and the hope that I might be furthered by it in a godly life, and be more watchful over the frame of my heart, when it must be kept on record. I would approve myself to God, who alone knows the sincerity of my heart. To him I have made known my request herein, and I heartily beg that what I shall at any time put down may be the workings of my heart, and that in nothing I may bear witness against myself.” In this temper of mind the whole seems to have been penned: and nothing can be more pleasmg or edifying than the perusal of such unstudied, undisguised representations of her conscience and her character.

The inspection shews us, that a dissent from the National Church may be founded in conviction, as well as education; and does not necessarily imply a fastidious, or a factious disposition; that it does not render its subject bUnd to what is good or excellent in the doctrine and liturgy of the establishment, or prevent prayer for its success, or rejoicing in its welfare. It shews us too, how little it encourages disaffection to civil obedience, or forbids “rendering to Cocsar the things that are Caesar’s.” Could the diaries of Mrs. Savage’s times be explored, what a contrast would be found between the sentiments such worthies confessed before God in their most sacred moments, and those charged upon them by their calumniating adversaries. Take the following extract from the journal of her honoured father, when deprived of his living for conscience sake:

“1663, May 29th. A thanksgiving day for the king’s return; a mercy in itself, for which the Lord be praised, though I, and many more, suffer by it.”

We perceive in these pages, that evangelical principles do not lead to licentiousness, but are friendly to every duty we owe to God, our fellow-creatures, and ourselves. Where do we here see any traces of that bold familiarity with the Supreme Being, of that contempt of others which cries. Stand by, I am holier than thou; of that relaxation of vigilance, that carelessness of conduct, that presumptuousness of hope, which in the minds and languages of many, seem for ever identified with the doctrines of grace?

We may see here somewhat of the nature and value of christian experience. We are accustomed to speak of doctrine, experience, and practice, but though these are in a measure different, they are not separable; they resemble the colours in the rainbow; you can distinguish them, but you cannot limit; they imperceptibly melt into each other. Christian experience results from enlightened views of divine things, which is no other than doctrinal belief; and it issues in the conversation and life, which is nothing less than practical godliness. Yea, these operate mutually, as cause and effect, for as our perceptions influence our feelings, and these our conduct; so practice increases our feelings, and these aid our judgment; for the exemplification of our religious views in our dispositions and actions, renders them more clear and more powerful. Hence the meaning of the term: for experience signifies knowledge derived from trial, in contradistinction to conjecture and theory. A christian does not at first adopt religious sentiments, or engage in religious exercises, with a view to make experiments; yet a reception of the former, and an attention to the latter have this effect. They put these things into a state of trial: and a new kind of evidence is obtained by the individual. He that believeth hath the witness in himself; and though it may not be convincing to others, it is very satisfactory to his own heart, and he is neither to be ridiculed, or argued out of it. Hence says our Lord, “Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” Hence men are invited to “taste and see that the Lord is good.” Hence christians are represented as having “tasted that the Lord is gracious.” Hence David says, “Because thou hast been my help, therefore under the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice:” and Paul exults, “I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day.”

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