Preface

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.”

I here look into Mrs. Savage’s heart, and I see this satisfaction, yet not excluding many anxious and painful feelings: and the Christian is portrayed in the Scripture, by his fear, as well as by his confidence: by his weeping, as well as rejoicing. A stone remains the same all the year; but what changes does the living tree feel, and what different aspects does it exhibit in the four seasons? I see in this subject of divine grace no vain, no proud pretensions; she no where says, “I have made my heart clean, I am pure from my sin;” “I have already attained, I am already perfect:” but in every page she cries, “This one thing I do; forgetting the things that are behind, and reaching forth unto those that are before, I press towards the mark for the prize of my high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Amidst all her complaints of the want of more conformity and devotedness to God, we still see hor, differing from others, a new creature, God’s workmanship: and we see reason why Christians, under all their acknowledged imperfections, are called “righteous,” and “godly,”

and “holy,” and “spiritual:” for we see the complete state to which she aspired, powerfully at work in its principles; already commenced in its preparations; already ensured in its earnests; already enjoyed in its foretastes. We see “the path of the just, which is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day.”

The experience of Mrs. Savage shows us that religion is not always begun abruptly, or in a manner bordering on prodigy. It is often derived, under the divine agency, from pious education, family worship, parental instruction, holy example. Mr. Baxter goes so far as to say, that if these were discharged as they ought to be, even the preaching of the word would not be the most common means of conversion. It is certain that many of the most eminent and useful ministers among the Puritans and Non-conformists were not converted from a course of profligacy, but were trained up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; from children knew the holy Scriptures: and the change in them was as gradual in its progress, as it was proved to be real and divine in its effects.

JNIany, I fear, are tempted to think suspiciously, or lowermgly of the acquisition of re-XVlll PREFACE.

ligion in this humble and unostentatious mode: and deem it far preferable, that a man should have been led from the depths of Satan into the way everlasting; have felt a sudden violence; and, after enduring insufferable terror and anguish, be elevated into confidence and rapture. We are not to limit the Holy One of Israel; yet ought we to be careful, not to draw universal conclusions from particular cases, or convert exceptions into general rules. It is one of the golden sentences of Mr. Henry, her brother, “God is sometimes found of them that seek him not, but he is always found of them that seek him.” It is a mercy if God calls us by his grace in any way; but where the certainty of the change is so extremely obvious, the subject is too prone to rest convinced of the fact, instead of praying, “Create in me a clean heart, 0 God, and renew a right spirit within me.” From the apparent magnitude of the change, he is too prone to feel, as if it had finished a work, which it only began. From the superior notice and wonder it excites, the more temptation is there to spiritual vanity and pride. The suddenness of the illumination frequently dazzles while it enlightens; and the man is likely to feel and retain a partial attachment to some one religious doctrine, according to the first direction his mind takes under such a novel and powerful impression: and for want of those relative views, which should accompany and qualify and direct his fervour, his zeal is seldom according to knowledge. Often too, coarseness and freedom of manners result from former viciousness of which the individuals themselves are not aware, but which expose them in their social, especially female, intercourse. I never knew a professor of religion, or a preacher of the word, who fell by certain temptations, but had been, previously to his connection with the Christian world, the victim of vice. JMoral and virtuous habits produce delicacy and impose restraint. Former scenes of guilt will often revive in the imagination; and though they are not entertained there, yet by passing through the mind, they defile it and distress it. I have heard more than one pious character confess the pain and injury he has suffered from this quarter, even in his public and retired devotions, and who would have given the world to be free from the shocks he received from the hauntings of the ghosts of his old iniquities. To which we may add, that though morality is not religion, yet it is a social benefit; but the man called from the dregs of profanencss, has to look back upon the injury he has done to others, and to mourn over ellects which he cannot repair. He has led astray many whom he may never be able to reclaim; and seeing those running the downward road, whom he led into it and encouraged by his vices, influence, and example, how often, as he advances towards Heaven, which he is almost ashamed to enter, must he sigh and pray, “Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, 0 God of my salvation.” These reflections are not designed to exclude any from hope, however deeply they have transgressed; or to withhold esteem and confidence from those who have obtained mercy; but to remove a mistake by no means uncommon; and to induce those who have been preserved from vice, to be peculiarly thankful, that they were moral before they were converted; and to bless God for those early advantages which led them into connected and consistent views of religion; and that their characters were formed after models of excellency, placed constantly in sight, and endeared by all the claims of nature. They are designed also to call upon parents, not to leave their children to a kind of religious chance; or to suppose that divine grace is a thing perfectly independent of rational and pious means,

instead of being connected with them, and conveyed by them, and in them. Let the command and the promise be ever in their mind: “Train up a child in the way that he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” Not that means are ever sufficient of themselves without the divine blessing (and therefore there is as much need of prayer as of exertion); but when God has appointed the means, and engaged to bless them, our hope is well-founded; and in the proper use of them we may expect success with as much certainty, as in nature, the sower expects to reap.

Finally. I have no wish to hinder the humbling sense of inferiority, which persons acquainted with themselves will feel in reading these papers. There are certainly degrees of religious excellency. Even the good ground brought forth in the varied proportions of thirty, sixty, and an hundred, fold. What a difference do we see between Abraham and Lot, with regard to lowliness of mind, self-denial, and a spirit of. conciUation. What a difference between the Centurion, who took our Saviour at his word; and Thomas,

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who required every kind of sensible evidence. And Cln’istians are in honour to prefer one another. Yet it should be remembered that what is written in such diaries as this, is the fruit of retirement and reflection, and the summary of the best feelings called forth in the presence of God. And whatever modern Christians think of themselves, 1 love not for others to view them as a race, very inferior to those who lived in an earlier period. “We know who has said, “Say not thou. What is the cause that the former days were better than these? for thou dost not inquire wisely concerning this.”

There may be the same degree of religious principle, while yet it is put forth in different ways. Even the constitutional temper will have some influence, as we see in the case of JMartha and Mary, There was the same regard to our Saviour in each, but Martha was cumbered about much serving, while Mary sat at his feet to hear his words; and when after the death of the brother, he was coming into Bethany, Martha went out to meet him, but Mary sat still in the house. Nor should we forget, that the providence of God often diversifies the direction of religious principle. At one time it peculiarly calls forth the pas-PREFACE. XXlll

sivc, at another, the active, graces of the Christian: at one season it requires more of the private exercises of godliness, at another more of its public efforts: winter leads the sap down into the roots, while summer calls it up into the branches, and displays it in the blossoms and the fruit.

We readily acknowledge, that with regard to the more private and retired influence of religion, they who lived in the days of Mrs. Savage were superior to the generality of modern Christians: but we make no scruple to sa — , many modern Christians are far superior to them in public spirit and active exertions. If the river spreads wide, or flows in various fertilizing currents, it cannot be expected to roll so deep. How little working comparatively, do we find even in the feeliis of many of these worthies towards the cause of God at large! Their own souls, their families, their particular churches, these drew forth their concern, but too much restricted it too. The present day exhibits a very different scene: and from a thousand pubUc assemblies, convened for the very purpose, and evincing their sincerity and fervency by their efforts and sacrifices, we hear the exclamation, “Let the whole earth be filled with his glory.” There is indeed a danger that keeping other men’s vineyards we should not be attentive to our own; and that our zeal should expend itself so much abroad, as to be extinguished before it reaches home. On the other hand it is true (though liable to perversion and abuse), that if we mind God’s alTairs he will mind ours; and that, while doing his work, he that watereth, shall be watered also. In the unprofitableness of those ministers, the ban-enness of those churches, and the deadness of those professors, who from their selfishness, or sloth, or any doctrinal restraint, come not up to the help of the Lord, may be found at this hour illustrations of the truth of David’s words: “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; they shall prosper that love thee.”

Had many Christians now living been cotemporaries with ]Irs. Savage, they would have devoted that time and attention to religion in its retreats, which seemed not so much called for abroad. And had many who lived in her days been born in om’s, they would have sprung forth at the call of those institutions which we have witnessed; and, following the direction of Heaven, have fallen in with a state of things which demands the

Utmost co-operation and activity; and which not only allows, but demands that every subject of divine grace should be also its instrument and its agent: and when by teaching poor children and adults to read and write, by dispensing Tracts, by aiding Bible and Missionary Societies, and by endeavouring to evangelize our own dark villages, Christians, as well as preachers, shall be named the “priests of the Lord; and men shall call them the ministers of our God:” when the promise made to the church shall be fulfilled, “They that be of thee shall build the old waste places; thou shalt raise up the foundation of many generations; and thou shalt be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of paths to dwell in.”

This is the glory of our day: and let not Christians be comparatively undervalued because they obey the obvious will of Providence and are workers together with God. The period so long prayed for is arrived; and we are required to rise, even from our devotions, and serve. We could employ the hours in songs of praise; but the voice cries, “Work while it is called to-day:” and you shall soon rest from your labours, and join those who dwell in his house above, and are

Still praising him. Christians are now required not to sit still and record their feelings, but to endeavour to communicate them. They must not abide by the stuff. The field calls them. The harvest is come, and it is harvest weather; and the ears, ungathered in, will soon fall and perish. “Say ye not, There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest? behold, I say unto you, lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest, and he that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal: that both he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together.”

WJVI. JAY.

Bath, May 2, 1818.