Memoir, 1807

Diuy daring his indispoeition — Thoughts on cessation from Duty — First Sunday at Lynn — Remarks on Fasting — Residence in London — Visit to Mr. Newton — Mr. Robinson’s and Mr. Cecil’s sermons — Mr. Wilberforce’s prayer — Mr. Clayton — Calumnies of Flower — Letter from the Bishop of Ely — On Christian Love — Lady Mary Fitzgerald — On an unpleasant rumor — Efforta on behalf of his Brothei — Mr. Fry’s jireachmg — Passion-week- Awakening effect of the Liturgy — Opposition to Missionaries — Ser-Tices of Females — Duties of Children to Parents — Journey to Cornwall — On religious affections — Dr. Hawker- Truro and SL Michael’s Mount — Miss Grenfell — Letter from Henry Martyn — Mr. Simeon’s thoughts on Marriage — Letter to Mr. Venn — Dr. Feaion — Letter to Mr. Edwards — Mr. Tbomason’s affectionate adTioe — Letter to his Parishoners.

1807.

DIABT BEGUN AT LYNN.

Saturday Evening, Feb. 21, 1807.

“Having fovuid my strength gradually decreasing, I determined, with the advice of different friends, to lay aside all ministerial labor for a season, and to seek, by air and exercise, the recovery of my former vigor. It was at first my intention not to begia my vacation till after Easter; but daily experience proved the expediency of beginning it as soon as possible. I therefore fixed the first week in March for its commencement. Being by this means prevented from attending the meeting of ministers in the spring, I paid a visit to my Lynn friends for four days. Whilst I was there, I received a most affectionate letter from Mr. Thomason, signed also by Mr. Preston and Mr. Yeates, desiring me to prolong my stay here, and to perform no duty, either on the Sabbath, or the fast day, on 25th instant. This was very contrary to my intentions; but the weakness which I felt in my chest and my voice, inclined me to acquiesce: and the sudden change of weather, to frost and snow, was an additional inducement. Since I have been here, I have found that even to engage in family prayer twice in the day is. notwithstanding the utmost care in speaking low, a greater exertion than my voice will bear. I feel therefore that God in his providence is calling me to silence: and as he suffered his highly-favored servant St. Paul to be repeatedly confined, for two whole years together in prison, and thereby reduced him to the necessity of exchanging his public ministry for private instruction, so I hope it is in order to promote some gracious ends, that he is now calling me to suspend the labors which I have till lately followed, without one Sabbath’s intermission, for

CBAF. IZ.] THOUGHTS ON FA8TIN6. 123

above twenty-four years. I know indeed and feel that he might justly lay me aside, as a- vessel wherein he has no pleasure; but I humbly hope that this dispensation will be in mercy to my soul; and that 6od is giving me ttiore leisure for reading, meditation, and prayer. That I may second the intentions of his providence, I purpose, during this interval of relaxation, to keep

A DIARY,

that I may the more carefully observe what benefit accrues to me from this affliction. And I am not without hope, that this purpose of mine is, as proceeding from my God, a token for good; and that it will be attended with many salutary effects to my soul. May God enable me to state my feelings with sincerity, and keep me from yielding to vanity and hypocrisy, which find too mucn scope for exercise in records like these.”

“Sunday, Feb. 23. I was not without some comfort in my priTate derotions. The thought that my whole ’ life was bxU an hand-breadth and that so large a part of it was pawed, was deiightfal to me. In the family prayer I felt some enlargement; and was joyful afterwaroa in the thought, that, without any allowed backwardness in me to ministerial engagements, I had a Sabbath to spend solely in the exercise of personal duties. At the chapel (St. Margaret’s) I found the prayers sweet to my soul and was devoutly occupied in them almost the whole time: but the sermon, though a ffood sermon, (on 1 Thess. iv. 1,) and well delivered, (according to the general notion of delivery,^ had no efiect, and made not the least impression on me. Doubtless this was my own fault; but yet I cannot help ascribing it much to the mode of delivering written sermons, for I was nvely in my own soul in a more than ordinary degree, and well disposed to h«Br an exhortation to abound in holy duties; but the solemn sameness of the delivery, (unrelieved by any occasional relaxation of more familiar address, or any animated, energetic address to arrest the mind and inflame the soul,) deadened my attention, and left me not only unimpressed, but almost uninstructed. For want of more rapidity in connecting the beginning and end of the sentences, I lose the sense of them; or, if I comprehend them ever so cfearly, I remain unaffected by them. I cannot but think it a great pity, that a minister, well qualified to preach extempore, should still adhere to written sermons. He possesses all the qualifications that are necessary to make a most distinguished and useful preacher; ana that in a very eminent degree; extensive knowledge, deep acquaintance with the heart, a clear, strong voice, a commanding manner, a tender and affectionate spirit, an ardent love to souls, and a most unfeigned desire to approve himself to Qod.

In the afternoon Mr. preached on, ‘Add godliness.’ He opened our

duty to Giod from that compendium in our Catechism, and then applied it. His sermon was Judicious; and his manner was somewhat easier than in the morning: but still it confirmed the sentiments expressed above. I had not (which, alas! is seldom the case with me in an afternoon) any drowsiness; and for this 1 thank my GKxl: happy should I be never to feel it any more in the time pf divine service; but my mind was not spiritual: nor was I devout in prayer. On the whole, I had great cause for humiliation; and 1 beff of Gkxl that I may bow before him as a most unprofitable servant

Wednesday, Feb. 25. Poet-day. 1 wished much to keep this day holy to the Lord. In every point of view — as laid aside from work, and suspended as it were from my office, it became me to humble myself, and I was entirely at liberty to detach my mind from eveiything that was foreign to that duty. I have always judged it inexpedient for a minister to faM, because he is thereby in danger of unfittug himself for bis work; but my nlect of it on other occasions laid a tenfold obligation on me to consecrate this day to Qcd in fasting as well as prayer. In my morning devotions I was tolerably comfortable, but not able to humble myself as I could wish. In thefiunily prayer my spirit was much mlaiged; and a blessing seemed to descend on all of us. At the chapel I could not get my soul encaged in the prayers as I ought

Friday, Much 6. Set off to London with a view to an entire cessation from work. I

124 MR. WILBERFORCE. [cHAP* IX*

think I got stronger by meani of mj journey to Lynn: and I am convinced I got good t» my Boal. I doubt whether I ever spent ten days together more profitably with respect to my own soul. I enjoyed, on the whole, more communion with God than usual; and there was more of an unction upon mj own spirit. On last Sunday, March Ist, I was much helped in preaching lipon Phil, l 27, tholigh I have often been more impressed in administering the Lord’s Supper. The late reproofs to my people have been attended with a good effect; their love to me seems to increase more and more; and their good wishes, for my recovery have been very refreshing to my soul. The leave I took of oiany was very affecting, particularly of my dear friends athelford.

Saturday, March 7. My brother went to the Isle of Wight, whither he had not been for five months, and left me with the use of his carriage, &c. These matters are so well understood between us, that we are both of us at ease about gomg or coming. This is very pleasant, as neither of us is any restraint upon the other My soul was comforted in the prospect that this new era of my life will brinff with it the richest blessings to my soul. I found the word and prayer sweet unto me, out I did not get much into the work of intercession. I received a very kind and sympathizinff letter from Mr. Venn, who had heard of my weakness, and announced his intention of cominff to see me. I walked a little in Finsbury Square, and then returned to wait for him; but he did not come. I dined alone; and then went to Mr. Newton’s: he was up in his bedroom, and in a very feeble state. He sat in a great chair, and flannel was thrown over his feet, 1^, and thighs. He was not able to carry any liquid to his lips, but was fed as a child. He did manage to eat a piece of cake with his own hand. His intellects are almost entirely gone; he did not know me, till I told him my name; and even then scarcely seemed to nptice me, in consequence of his own feebleness of mind and body.

Sunday, March 8. Could hot rise by my alarum, because my rushlight was gone out, and I could not well disturb the family. But in the morning I was verf comfortaUe, enjoying somewhat of Grod’s presence. I went to Mr. Cecil’s. Mr. Robmson of Leicester preached, from Matt, vu., ‘By their fhiits ye shall know them,’ and the whole passage. He was masterly in showing that we were all by nature corrupt trees, and must be made good trees by regeneration, before we can bring forth any fruit that is good; and that a tree, though it occasionally have some blighted fruit, may be on ths

whole good In the afternoon I heard Mr. there. It was a vei poor

attempt at extempore speaking. In the evening Mr. Cecil preachiBd on Matt. ziii. four last verses. He showed that however excellent the truth was, and however confirmed by miracles, {^de, prejudice, and unbelief would counteract it. He observed, that there Was a privy council, at which Pride presided, and Prejudice and Unbelief were members; Truth was arraigned at their bar, and condemned. On the whole, I think I should have spent my day more profitably, if I had had more retirement. Private duties are the life and soul of religion.

Monday, March 9. Called at Mr. Hoare’s and saw him, and Wm. and Chas. Proceeded to Mr. Wilberforce’s, where I saw Mrs. W. and the Dean, and Mr. Babington, whom I congratulated on having such a son. Dined at Mr. Cecil’s, and went to the Eclectic, where the subject was, ‘What are the jttsi bounds of typical inUrprdaiion 7* Mr. Venn was there, and expressed all the kindness imaginable.

Tuesday, March 10. I bless God that my desires after Him continue, and, I hope, increase. The attention which Mr. V. showed me appears a call from God to spend the Passion-week with him. I am bent, with God’s help, on improving that solemn week to the uttermost; and it may please God, perhaps, that I may be a little helpful to him and his family. I shall account this no little blessing.

Wednesday, March 11. Mr. Sargent and Mr. John Thornton called upon me. I dined at Mr. Pearson’s and enjoyed some sweet conversation with him. I drank tea at Mr. Wilberforce’s. He looked better than I have everslen him. He took an affectionate interest in the state of my health. I did not come away till afler their evening prayers. Mr. W. read a prayer. We all continued on our knees a considerable time before ho began. This had a sweetly solemnizing effect. He read the prayer with singular propriety, in a low and natural tone.

Thursday, March 12. I have been reading the Scriptures with pleasure and profit, and bless God, who docs not refuse me access to him in prayer. I feel truly thankful for that caution, * Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed,’ &c. I long to have a holy fear of offending God, and a jealousy over myself, lest, after all my privileges, I ruin my soul by sin, 1 Cor. iz. 24. to z. 12. About one o’clock I walked to Highbury Place, having had no ezercise since I came to town. I found Mr. and Mrs. Clayton, with two of their sons and daughters, at home, and spent a very pleasant and profitable hour with them. Our hearts were full of love to each- other; and I came away thankful for havine breathed in so sweet an atmosphere. On my return, I found a note tnm the Bishop of

CBAP. IX.] BfR. Cecil’s preaching. 125

oTEIj. The oocaiion wu this: I yesterday received a letter from Mr. Audley, grnng me an extract horn Mr. Flower’s new [Hiblication, wherein he speaks of me as an itinerant preacher in oniicensed places, setting at defiance all order and discipline; and exmaaea his wonder that the bishop do not compel me lo give up my church. I sent the letter immediately to the bishop, mforming him of the former charges of Mr. Flower against me, and tellins him that I should pass by this, as I had done all the rest, in silent contempt. I desired him also, if in company with the Bishops of London or Lincoln, to inform them also of the faUeness of the charee, lest they should be deceived by the effrontery with whiph it is adduced. The bisnop sent me back Mr. A.’s letter the next day, with a polite note of his own, wherein he approves of my contempt of his detractions:’ — * persuaded as I am that your zeal is regulated with that prudence, which is the best security against malevolent writers.’

Friday, March 13. My soul was exceeding joyful in my God all the day. In the evening Mr. Tbomason called upon me, and we were very much comforted in our short interview.

Saturday, March 14. When reading 1 Cor. xiii. this morning, I asked myielf, * How I should act towards Mr. and Mrs. Edwards and Mr. and Mrs. Thomason,’ and regretted that the same spirit did not animate me towanls every other person. I began to pray for our provost, and Mr. Flower, and Mr. Twiss, the grocer. I apprehena that the best nwde uf understanding the nature and extent of Christian love, is to consider what dispositions we show towards the dearest objects of our affections, and to put every human being in thor place. At one I visited Mr. and Mis. Steinkopfi*, who were as full of love as ever. I then went to Ladv Mary Fitzgerald. More kindness I never expect to see exercised out of heaven. She had heard of my indisposition (but in an exaggerated way,) and her tender sympathy and prayers to God for me quite overcame me. What am I, that (Sod should be so gracious to mc, and give me such dear and loving friends 1 Verily, converse with such is a foretaste of heaven. Would to God that I felt that humiliation which such unmerited favor ought to generate within me!

Richard dined with me; and I j[ot half an hour’s profitable conversation with him on the subject of economy and religion. He was a good deal impressed when I parted with him.

Sonday, March 15. Was, on the whole, comfortable in reading and nrayer, and narticularly so during the whole morning prarer at Mr. Cecil’s chapel; tney appearea to me so mil, so rich, so apposite, that I felt satisfied with them as with marrow and fatness. Mr. C. preached with considerable animation on Zaccheus, Luke xix. 4, 5. In the evening I heard Mr. C. asain upon Psalm iv. 3. On the whole, the effect of Mr. C.’s sermons seems to be to strike the imagination and to please. There is much point, but no flow. Ho wounds with an arrow; but does not close and wrestle with men, or draw them by persuasive arguments. I think some other preachers more likely on the whole to convert souls, but few more likely to instruct and please. I was remarkably alive and attentive at both times, so as almost to have lost my wonted stupidity.”

An absurd but unpleasant rumor having been reported to him,. which he immediately replied to and silenced, — he writes thus:

“Tuesday, March 17. It is a great mercy to have the testimony of one’s own conscience under a false accusation; and it is good to coomiit to paper those things which would distract the mind: for now, whether I ever show that statement or not, it is ready as a complete vindication of my conduct.

Between sleeping and waking this morning mvmind was filled with strange and filthy imaginations, and I had sense enough to try to toink of something else: but recollecting that religious and holy thoughts had scarcely ever prevailed to cast out evil from my mind, I set myself to think of this statement of fiu:ts; which through the goodness of Ood soon engaged m mind, and relieved me from my wicked and distressing thoughts. How humiliating is it, that a little matter, which affects my character, should have greater effect than all the wonders of redemption! but so it is; and this is not the first time I have found it so.

Wednesday, March 18. My brother Ned returned from the Isle of Wight by a nightcoach. He 18 full of kindness: from dinner to bed* time I had much conversation with him. I wished to show him the defects that are in all his charitable actions, on account of the want of a principle of love to God, and on account of the selcomplacency to which Ahej administer. But I could not fasten anything on his conscience.

Saturday, March 21. This evening too I got a great deal of useful convenntion with my brother Ned. I strove to convince him Uiat all his good deeds were of no value in

126 ‘PASSION WEBK. [cHAP. IZ.

the sight of Qf)dt for want of a reUgioiu priociDle; and that they even increiMd his danger, on account of their appearing to superseae the nocessity of real eodliness. He received it kindly; but I could not prevail upon him to become a statecT hearer of Mr. Crowther’B at Christ Church. Neverthdess I am not without a hope that God will give a bl<’8Bing to what was spoken to him.

Sunday, March i. 1 am now £oing to Mr. Cecil’s church, (Ned is gone to St Paul’s,) and I hope I shall meet my God there. I feel as if it were my earnest desire to enjoy him more, and serve him better. After service I went to Mr. Wilberforce*s, and accompanied him and Mrs. W. and Miss Bird to the Lock. Mr. Fry preached a very sensible and good sermon on ‘He that winneth souls is wise:’ and he delivered it well. I do not know the preacher that I should prefer to him. But I think if he had not preached a written sermon there would have been more effect. Perhaps the time ([viz. afternoon) was a disadvantage both to him and the congregation. Afterwards I duied with Mr. W. On the whole our time was pleasantly and not un profitably spent.

Monday, March 23. Dined at Lady Cath. Murray’s and met Mr. Robinson, Slc. “Went to the Eclectic, when my present was given them by Mr. Cecil, and kindly ac cepted by them. The subject was, ‘TVie peculiar dangers qf miniatere and how to amrid them.^ It was a long and profitable discussion. I mentioned to them Mr. Flower’s calumny, and the bishop’s answer to mine respecting it.

Thursday, March 26. Through mercy, I slept well; but my spirit was not alive, either in the family, or afterwards in private. I encleavored to call to mind my fi»rmer sins, and the mercy which I obtained in this week twenty-eight yean ago: but I was heavy and stupid, and unable to get nigh to God.

Friday, March 27. My expectations were not altogether realized. I had set my heart on having a day of peculiar sojemnity; but, fVom a variety of circumstances, my .soul was not so much alive as I had hoped it would be. At church I had a little enjoyment of the prayers; but not much of the sermon.

Saturday, March 28. Still but little life.

Easter Sunday, March 29. My mind, on the whole, was comfortable in the recollection of the mercy vouchsafed to me on this day twenty-eight years ago. I felt myself happy and thankful, that the peace which then flowed into my soul, had never been entirely lost: and that I was as much bent as ever on the securing of the prize of my high calling. Mr. R. read the prayers with somewhat less formality than before, and preached a full and instructive sermon on, ‘The Lord is risen indeed.’ Could he but adopt more ease and familiarity in the yulpit, his discourses would make tenfold more impression: but tke dignity qfthe puLoii as it is called, proves a sad obstacle to the edification of his people; they evidently near as if they heard not At the Lord’s table, my soul was much refreshed. I assinted him in administering the cup.

Monday, March 30. After having spent a pleasant and profitable time with Dr. Fearon, I set off with him on foot, and Walked to Clapham, where I called on Mr. Strphen; and then proceeded to Deptfbrd, where I met Mr. and Mrs. Thomason. This was an unlooked-for pleasure; as Mr. T. had said nothing of coming up again so soon. We were all happy together, exceeding happy; and after dinner we went lo Mr. Hardcastle’s, where we met Mr. Hill, who was to preach that evening his anniversary sermon at Greenwich Chapel, this bein Easter Monday. When they all went to chapel, I walked to town. My or other Ned is all kindness; and I hope I shall yet live to see him a partaker of richer mercies than he has ever yet received.

Thursday, April 2. I dined at Sir James Graham’s; he and the ladies received me most kindly. Our conversation was very profitable. Lady C. told me that Mr. G. (Sir James’s brother) teae awakened by the thought qfthat prayer in the Litany ‘Prom ever* laating damnation good Lord deUver ub.’ Dr. Fearon aUo told me afev) days ago qf another person awakened by the LUurgy. Surely the Liturgy is of more service than is generally imagined.

Sunday, April 5. I felt that the Sabbath was indeed a delight. My soul rejoiced in Qod my Saviour. At Mr. Cecil’s church I was not so devout in the prayers as I sometimes am; nor was I much impressed with the sermon; but I find that the more 1 hear Mr. Cecil, the lnore I like Mm. At the Lord’s table I found God very present with me; and it was delightful to me to intercede for all my friends and people. After church I ioined Mr. Grant, who seems much depressed in spirit. He told me that Sir John Barlow had been forced to forbid Mr. Carey to preach amont the Natives for the present, on account of the ferment existing among them about the idea of being compdled to become Christians. This idea has become strengthened by the disturbance at Vellore: and enemies abroad and at home are endeavoring to use it against the Missionary Societies. It is melancholy to see how everr effort for salvatkm of our fellow-creatores is rensted by persons professing Christianity.

CffAP. IX.] OR RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. 127

Monday, April 6. I dined with Mr. Cecal and went to the Eclectie; when the question waf, ‘How many pum» women best tvbatnt the interests religion?* The ffenendity aeemed to think they did best by keeping at home, and minding their own ousiness. My ideas did not perfectly coindde with theiis. I thought that there were offices, in which they might be profitably emoyed, provided they were discreet, and did not neglect their own proper callings. On the whole, I do not think we differed much; but our bias was a little different: / rather leaned more to the side of visiting the sick, &c., and they to the keeping almost entirely at home. A similar difference of opinion existed in relation to a young man of twenty-four, whose parents put him first into the arm, and then, at his request, into a government place: but have uniformly opposed the idea of his going to college and into orders; and declared in a solemn and affectionate letter, that if he take this step, he must renounce all connection with them, and all hope from them for ever. They tnought he oufht to break through ail, if they persist in tneir determination. / thought that he shouB wait; and that God, if he designed him for the ministry, would make his way more clear; and that he might be as useful perhaps in another line, if this door were shut against him. I tholight that, against a plain positive duty, the parents have no power whatever; but that, when there is no express line marked out by Ghxi, we should not set ourselves against the decided will of our parents, especially while we are living in a state of dependence upon them.

Thursday, April 9. Felt happy in my soul, and desirous of Uvin more to God. Time is passing, and eternity approaching. O that in my joumev which I am to begin to-morrow I may have the presence of God! I received letters n-om Mr. Marty n and Mr. Brown, and went to Mr. Hoare’s to read them to him. How kind are Mr. and Mrs. Offiey! They make that trip on purpose to receive me; and I pray God it may be for their good. It is as a servant of God, and a spiritual helper, that they receive me; and I trust that He, for whose sake their kindness is shown to me, will make them ample recompense.

Friday, April 10. The long-looked-for dav is arrived. In the morning Prose joyful in the Lord, and very desirous to have the blessing of God upon my journey. I committed myself and my friends to Him, with an assured hope that he would be with us, and prosper our intercourse with each other. At eight I set off; and took up my feliowtraveller at. Ely-place. After we got through town I prayed, and Mr. E. read part of the Epistle to the Coiossians; and my soul was much refreshed. I regretted that I could. not give full scope to my feelings in conversation; and that the weakness of my voice prevented me from prosecuting the subiects to the extent I wished. I confess, I think we all suffered loss by my not being able to converse; for my soul was much alive; and the remainder of the day was comparatively dull. However, it was a rich mercy to experience BO much of His presence as we did. And we shall have abundant reason to be thankful, if we are enabled to pass every day as well.’*

The Diary then proceeds with brief notices of his journey, and of the various places and persons seen by the way. At length Mr. S. returns to the record of his spiritual state.

“Thursday, April 16. N. B. Being rather hurried for time, I have not lately said much about my spiritual state; but I have been highly fovored of the Lord for several days* Sometimes indeed I have been as dull and stupid as ever; but frequently, and in an unusual degree, my spirit has rejoiced in Qod my Saviour. Doubtless the elevation of my joy has arisen in part from a flow of animal spirits; but I hope and trust, that there has been something more than nature in it. My brother E. is a little disposed to undervalue the exercise of the affections, from an idea that they are stirred up by human efforts, and are likely to give us a mistaken apprehension of our state. Hence he labors rather to suppress than to excite the fervor oi nis affections; but if we can * rejoice even with joy unspeakable and glorified,’ I think it desirable to do so; provided we preserve* a becoming jealousy respecting the abuse of our affections in a way of enthusiasm or of pride.*’

The Journal then records their route through Sidmouth, Exmouth» Totness, Plymouth.

‘’Sunday, April 19. At Mr. Httchin’s in morning; in the afternoon went to Dr. Hawker’s. The Doctor read prayers well, though wtth some eccentric starts; and he

128 VISIT TO MIBB 6RENFELL. [cHAP. IX.

preiiched on 3 Cor. Hi. 18. Mr. E. and myself were in perfect astonishment at his volutiility of tongue and strength of voice. He dwelt much on the fflory of Christ, and spoke many excellent things; but there was no particular order, or affinity to the text; so that though we admired much that we heard, we could not carry much away. He observed that the CcmmandmenU were tcrUttn on our aitarpUeeSf in order to remind people thai Christ waa the end of the Law for righteounuea unto them that believe. Being apprised that Mr. E. and mvself were intending to stay the evening service, he invited us to tea, and we had a profitable conversation with him. (After describing the ffreat peculiarities in his manner of conducting the evening service, Mr. S. adds.) After all, there was more to -admire in some respects, and to disapprove of in others, than I ever saw or heard before. His reading and preaching, if divested of eccentricity, would be excellent; and at all events, he is well cakulated to attract attention, and to do good; though I fear he is the means of promoting a very bad spirit, and not a little error amongst the greater portion of his hearers.”

They then proceed to St. Austell and Truro, where Mr. S. says, “We remembered with gratitude to God that blessed man Mr. Walker.” They at length reach the Land’s End.

“Saturday, April 25. From the Land’s End I wrote to Mr. Preston, sitting in the carriage. We returned to Penzance to dinner; and called at Maraaion in our way to Helston. The sun shone bright; and the view of Penzance, Marazion, St. Michael’s Mount, and the whole bay, was exceedingly grand and beautiful. Miss O. kindly accompanied us to St. Michael’s Mount Mr. E. and myself went over the house and on to the top of the tower; at one comer of which is a stone-chair, on which some people are foolhardy enough to sit; and on which if a woman sit, it is said that she shall ever afterwards rule her husband; and in truth, if she have courage enough for the one, there must be few men who dm prevent the other. With her mother’s leave Miss G. accompanied us to Col. Sandys’; when I had much conversation with her on Mr. Martyn’s affair. She staled to me all the obstacles to his proposals; first, her health; second, the indelicacy of her soing out to India alone on such an errand; third, her former engagement with anouer person, which had indeed been broken off, and he had actually gone up to London two years ago to be married to another woman; but as he was unmarried, it seemed an obstacle in her mind: fourth, the certainty that her mother would never consent to it On these points I observed, that I thought the last was the only one that was insurmountable; for that, first, India often agreed best with persons of a delicate constitution; e. g. Mr. Martyn himself and Mr. Brown. Second, it is common for ladies to go out thither without any previous connection; how much more therefore might one go out with a connection already formed I Were thb the only difficulty, I engaged, with the help of Mr. Grant and Mr. Parry, that she should go under such protection as should obviate all difficulties upon this head. Third, the step taken by the other person had set her at perfect liberty Fourth, the consent of her mother was indispensable; and as that appeared impossible, the matter might be committed to God in this way: if her mother, of her own accord, should express regret that the connection had been prevented, from an idea of her beiujg irreconcilably averse to it, and that she would not stand in the way of her daughter’s wishes; this should be considered as a direction from Giod in answer to her prayers; and 1 should instantly be apprised of it by her, in order to communicate it to Mr. M. In this she perfectly agreed. I told her, however, that I would mention nothing of this to Mr. M., because it would only tend to keep him in painful suspense. Thus the matter is entirely set aside, unless God, by a special interposition of his Providence, (i «. by taking away her mother, or overruling her mind, contmry to all reasonable expectation, to approve of it,) marks his own will respecting it”

Mr. Simeon returns through Exeter and Bath to Reading, where he arrives on the day of his brother’s election as member for that borough.

May 4. My brother was just setting off for town, and came in with my nephew Edward to see me. We were all gratifi«l with the occurrence.

Saturday, May 9. Having left my Diary for some time to be written from memoi, I have made it a mere journal of common events, without noticing the frames of my mind. f have not had any real communion with God this morning, but am now left akme; and I hope to spend this morning profitably to my soul.

Sunday, Hay 10. In a sad atapid lUte. At choieh abo I was nol at all devout: nor was I interested by the sermon. At the Lord’s table I had a tittle of the DiTine presence. In the afternoon I was as stupid as before. But if I do noi pray mart in r 4rene€ to the ordinemce»f how eon / hope to be bleeeed at them? In the evening Mr. and Mn. Marsh and myself read the Prophet Malachi together, and we had a sweet season.”

With the following entry the Diary is abruptly terminated.

“Monday, May 11. I still cannot get nish to Ood in secret. I have been imSmg the Scriptures, and attempting to pny; but I want that divine unction which alone ean leach me, or give a sweet savor to my soul.”

By a remarkable coincidence, at the very time apparently that Mr. Simeon was ensajred in conversation with Miss Grenfell on Mr. Martyn’s affair, JVir. M. was himself meditating on the same subject, and wrote to Mr. Simeon the following letter, renouncing all idea of marriage.

^Dinapore, April 26, 1807.
” My dearest Friend and Brother, —

“All your letters, eight in number, have reached me; and all and every of them demand my warmest acknowledgments. But I think I observe, that since the notification of my wishes to become a married man, your letters are not so affectionate. Know, therefore, that I rejoice in my celibacy; and am finally resolved to abide by my first determination, to be single like yourself, and for the same reason I trust, that I may care only for the things of the Lord. Your proposal, therefore, respecting some young lady coming out in the fleet, is highly unacceptable to me; for were my regard to Miss 6. at all diminished, which it is not, yet I am so sick of the idea of all earthly connections, so pregnant with sorrow, that it seems as if I could rather die than marry. Your ambiguous prophecy that God is providing better for me, than I should for myself, I interpret in this way: — God is pro- ’ viding better for me, not by giving me one wife instead of another, but by giving me no wife at al). O! I adore his wisdom and love as in all former instances of his dealings with me, so in this most especially, that I am once more set at liberty to devote all my time, money, and thoughts, to his glorious and delightful service.

I was rather agreeably surprised at finding you able to preach aain, but lament much that you have resumed so much of your labors so prematurely. It cannot but be that you will soon be laid up again. If a dry soft air be so essential to you, perhaps a voyage to Lisbon might be resorted to; then you would be under no temptation to speak; or if excluded from “Portugal, you have our permission to come to the East Indies: at all events, dearest sir, let the decline of so many of our chief supports be one reason, among others, for taking care of yourself. The changes death has made in your congregation aflfect me deeply; yet there is something pleasindy solemn in recollecting my former intercourse with them, and following them in thought to the world to which

180 LBTTBB TO MB. VINN. [cHAP. IZ.

they are gone, and about which we preached to them. Be good enough to mention always the older members of your societies. I feel grateful to Mr. and Mrs. OfBey for their kind attention to you, and rejoice to hear of their growth in grace. I always loved them from the time I saw them, and have never ceased to pray for them every day since I left England. Very happy am I to hear that Dr. Fearon is become a brother in the ministry: God’s blessing be upon him !* Cambridge being that sppot in Europe where my thoughts linger most fondly, I turn from it reluctantly to India; and first to Dinapore.”

Mr. Simeon’s own views on the subject of marriage, and his * determination to remain single,’ may be learned from the following extract from a memorandum jnade about this time:

What has been my language at all times and to all persons f Has it not been this? — ^I should hate the University above all places as a married man; but the singular way in which I have oeen called to my present post, and its almost incalculable importance, forbid the thought of my now leaving it: — therefore I think I shall never marry.

“Again — in my present situation I am quite a rich man, and almost as free from care as an angel; but if I were to marry, I should instantly become a poor man (reducing my income one half, while I doubled my expenditure): — therefore I think I shall never marry.

“Again — there are but few married people truly happy in each other in comparison of those who are unhappy; and fewer still who are truly happy in their children (one who turns out ill depriving his parents of all the comfort they miht feel in the others): — therefore I think I shall never marry.”

The two following letters are inserted here out of their proper place, that the preceding Diary might not be interrupted.

To the Rev. J. Venn, “SalTsdor House, Bishqwgate street,

March 10, 1807.

My very dear Friend, —

“I feel most sensibly the tender concern which you have expressed for my welfare, and the kind attention which you have shown me in mv present debilitated state, and I hope that it will be the means o{ reviving: the sentiments of most endeared affection, which once glowed in our bosoms, and knit us together as

Dr. Fearon writes to Mr. Simeon: “I trust few days pass over my head, that I do not remember you. To you I owe the joy, the peace, the tranquillity 1 possess amidst a thousand cares; however many kind instructors I may have, I trust I shall ererjtmemlier that you were the blesseu instrument in the hands of my merciful God, in calling Bie to the knowledge of Jesus Christ my Lord. O! may I never give you cause to be shamed of me. I entreat your prayers that I may be kept from the power of the worid, the flesh, and the devil; and live and die Chriit’t faithful soldier ana servant Believe e, your affectionate son in the Gospel of our Lord Jesus. — D. Fearon.”

David and Jonathan. In my present relaxation from all official duty, I am bent upon getting nearer to my God, and on obtaining more fitness for the service of my God on earth, or the enjoyment of him in heaven. I purpose, with, his gracious help, that every hour shall be devoted to this great pursuit. I bless and adore my God, that I do pant after him, in a measure, as the hart panteth after the water-brooks; and, (having the best possible supplies at home,) I feel a pleasure in this present dispensation, as calculated to advance the spirituality of ray soul. The Passion-week I look forward to with more peculiar delight. It has always been with me a season much to be remembered, not only on account of the stupendous mysteries which we then commemorate, but because of the wormwood and the gall which my soul then tasted, twenty-eight years ago, and the gradual manifestations of God’s un-. bounded mercy to me, till on Easter-day I was enabled to see that all my sins were buried in my Redeemer’s grav. From the time that I foresaw the necessity of ceasing from active employment, I have purposed in my mind to spend that week with my very dear friend. Dr. Fearon; because of our perfect oneness of heart, and because I could, with him, enjoy the most entire seclusion from company, except in those seasons when we might impart to each other of that divine unction, which, in our absence from each other, we had obtained from heaven. But I look on the kindness you have shown me, as a kind of call from God to give you the preference, if you can give me a tolerably warm room to myself: having been habituated to a warm room, I feel that the want of it would take from that entire attention, which I wish to give to things that do not relate to the body. We are so much creatures of habit, thai any considerable deviation from our usual modes of life, unfits us for the full enjoyment of our retired Jiours; — a tinder-box, a little wood to kindle a fire speedily, a few roundish coals, to prevent a whole house being occupied in stirring and blowing the fire, are but small matters in themselves; but to one who rises early, and longs to serve his God without distraction, they are of some importance. Give me but a warm room, and all my wants, (with the exception of a little bread and cheese,) are supplied.

“Now I will leave it to you and to Mr. Elliott to determine, whether the whole of that week, from Tuesday, to the Monday following, be spent under your roof, or whether partly under his alno. Were I disposed to see company, I should not dream of visiting you that week; but because you must be engaged in your official duties, and your sister has her engagements also, I feel that I can enjoy solitude under your roof without appearing inattentive to my host. With kindest regards to your sister and the Elliotts, I remain your old friend, your father’s friend, and your truly aflfectionate friend, C. S.”

182 LBTTBR TO MR. BDWAROO. [CHAF. IX.

‘’ To the Rev. E. Edwards.

March 14, 1807.

My dearest Brother, —

“I am* not going to answer your letter yet; but, lest I forget it when I do write, I ill just say, that the moment I saw the word * No,’ I involuntarily fetched so deep a ffroan, that any one who had been present would have thought that your letter had been Job’s last messenger. But I have not forgot my promise to acquiesce cheerfully in whatever may be deemed expedient, reserving however to myself a liberty, (if my hard heart possessed sympathy enough,) to weep over the occasion of it.

“I will also mention another thing. When I was reading in its course this morning,* 1 Cor. xiii., I set myself, if possible, to comprehend it; and, in order to comprehend it, I asked myself — how should I act towards my dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. E., and Mr. and Mrs. Thomason? — If now J could feel the same disposition towards all persons, under all circumstances, as I do towards them, I should make less work for ‘John Softly.’ But, feeling that my wicked heart is differently affected towards some, I began to pray for my enemies, particularly the two or three that are most violent and most inveterate.

“Perhaps you have heard that Mr. Flower, in the first number of a periodical publication of his, has associated me With Dr. Haweis, as preaching in unlicensed places, defying all ecclesiastical order, and. yet determined not to relinquish my church till compelled to* do it by my diocesan. I intended to pass it over in silence, as I have done all his former attacks. But two days ago Mr. Audley, apprehending that I had not heard of it, sent me the extract, and expressed his wish, that I would take some measure to silence his calumnies. It struck me, that, though it would not have been expedient for me to have made the extract myself, and sent it to the bishop, (inasmuch as it would have shown too much anxiety in the matter,) the sending of Mr. Audley’s letter to him was an easy, natural step, which would evince a proper regard for the bishop’s good will, at the same time that it would not argue too great a concern about it. I accordingly wrote a note to the bishop, informing him of Mr. Flower’s former conduct towards me, and guarding him against giving credit to any reports founded on Mr. F.’s Jacobinical malignity. The bishop sent me next morning, by his own servant from Dover street to Salvador House, the kindest letter that I ever received from him. He says in it — ‘Had I collected the contents (df Mr. A.’s letter) from their original deposit, they would have excited in me no other sentiment, than that of concern for the anxiety and trouble they might occasion to you.... Should opportunity offer to vindicate your character in the quarters to wnich you allude, (the Bishops of London and Lincoln, to whom I desired him to

See Um Diuy, page 135.

mention the matter,) I will avail myself of it; persaaded as I am, that your zeal is regulated with that prudence, which is the best security against malevolent writers, Thus, you see, God has brought ffood out of evil: and the prejudice which might arise against all the serious young men, who are intended for the ministry, is, I trust, prevented. A shield too is thus prepared against any future shafts, which Mr. F. may choose to point at me.

I could tell you more of my state of mind, but I am afraid of pride and boasting. I think, however, I may tell you (for I hope it will excite in you a spirit of thankfulness to God for me,) that my hopes and expectations are not disappointed. Amidst all that I feel to mourn over, my soul rejoices exceedingly in God my Saviour. I trust that this joy will be made to abound more and more, when you put your live coal to mine, and blow it with the breath of prayer. I can’t help saying, O! that my dear sister could partake with us I But the Lord’s will be done. To what purpose is it to keep this letter till I have seen Dr. F. and Mr. V.? It is true, I hope to see them both on Tuesday next; but I niust then either write a single paragraph only, or make you piy double postage; and you may as well pay for twice one, as for once two. Therefore you must forgive me, if, out of the fulness of my heart, I send you this before it catches cold. I began it without intending to proceed, and I will finish it with a promise of another soon.

Let me then tell you a little of myself. First, in answer to your query, I went through my sermon without any difficulty; but labored a little in the administration of the Sacrament. I knew that I had a long time to rest; and I did not care, though I should run myself a little out of breath. I think I got stronger during my residence with you; I am sure I did in spirit, and I think! did in body also.

Here I am in a large house by myself, (i. e. without my brother,) and with carriage and servants at my command. I see nobody except at dinner, having one friend, whose converse I prefer to that of ’ the young men;’ and He comes and breakfasts with me, yea, and sups with me’ also.

The carriage came to the door and interrupted me; and now I have returned from visiting Mr. Steinkopff, and Lady Mary Fitzgerald; it is just dinner-time: I must therefore close, lest after dinner I should not be able to get time, from company who are coming, to finish my letter. — Kindest love to all. —

Yours most affectionately, C. S.”

Durinff this season of retirement from duty at Cambridge, and amidst the uncertainty of his future arrangements, Mr. Simeon received the following affectionate letter from his devoted friend and fellow-laborer, IVfr. Thomason. As it exhibits many pleasing

134 ADVICB OF MR. THOMAflON. [OHAP. IX.

traits of Mr. T.’s fine character, and illustrates also the history of their parochial movements at this period, it is inserted here almost entire.

The Rev. T. Thomabon to Mr. Simeon.

L. Shelford, June 2, 1807.

**How could you be so cruel? on opening yours, I thought you had sent me a prize. It looked like a suitable present to one who needs skeletons so much, from one who has composed so many. Such a discourse would be a novelty indeed from your pulpit. Let me rather keep in the good old way. But if I could persuade you to restrain your feelings, and hold your tongue, I snould rejoice greatly. Under your circumstances, it appears to be much more advisable to exercise self-denial; and it you cannot stay at the Wells, without giving vent to the fire that bums within you, pray, pray, pray go somewhere else. The experiment of twenty minutes is a gin and a trap. This is the way to lose, more than you can possibly gain, by the waters of the place. You would reallv pause, if if you could see all that I feel on the subject. But I forget that all this advice is unnecessary. Your letter is dated on Sunday, when all your feelings of regret for your poor people were most violently excited. Doubtless the sober reflection of Monday would dissipate the illusion, and confirm you in your resolution of keeping silence. If you preach, my hands will hang down beyond all expression. I now feel that I am laboring to some good purpose, when aflfording rest to the weary, and thus providing for the future supply of your church; but, if you break a rest, the length of which, and the uninterruptedness of which, is so essential to a sound and permanent recovery, I am deprived of my reward, and lose my labor. Thanks be to God that you continue to improve! May you return to us in due time, thoroughly furnished for your important work, strong to labor, and like a giant refreshed with new wine.’ Through the goodness of God I am surprisingly strengthened for the work that is before me. Though I feel deeply my want of wisdom and of ability, of power and of energy, of humble faith and of ardent love, and of every important qualification for usefulness, yet I am endeavoring to cast myseli upon the Lord, and seem to gather fresh strength and spirit for labor. The Lord helping me, and pardoning my innumerabfe sins and imperfections, I am resolved to yoke myself wholly to the work during the summer. Some things have occurred, which will render it

expedient for me to do more than I intended Call rae

changeable, or by what name you please, but so it is, when the time draws near Tor altering the services at Trinity, I cling to the afternoon service, and cannot give it up. The church was never so well atended as it is now in the afternoon; and it goes against

OBAF. IX.] ADVICE OF MR. THOMASON. IMme to shut the doors against so great a body of people, who flock to hear the Gospel. On monday last, I went to Uambridge, to gather all the intelligence I could from different persons, and come to a conclusion about the propriety of giving up the service.

The result is, that I think the safest way is to retain it The

secret history of the late parish-meeting is unfavorable. B. says, that even the church- wardens have only assented to it, because they thought we wished it; and all the parishioners, with whom

he has conversed, are uniformly against the measure There

are two great advantages proposed by the measure, an immediate, and a remote one.

The immediate advantage of diminishing our labors is great. But considering all the objections, perhaps it would be better to bear a little temporary pressure. During the summer, I could undertake the two duties of morning and afternoon, and also the sermon in the evening — Aspland reading prayers. This is, in fact, no more labor laterum et vocis, than I have now: nor would it be more than two sermons a week; as in the afternoon there would be something of an exposition, not requiring much previous preparation. Thus, God enabling us, we may pass the summer; and then we should be cheered with the sight of our disabled vicar and curate, who would return to us recruited, we trust, with rest.

“The remote advantage, of fixing the Gospel in the church, perhaps is overrated. For if you were not succeeded by a pious vicar, and there remained but one opportunity of hearing the Gospel, perhaps the church would be as much thronged in the afternoon as in the evening; and the serious gownsmen would attend, and bring others with them.

On the whole, it seems to me that we should non placet the measure. The having discussed it will be advantageous perhaps in some future emergency; it will remain recorded in the parishbooks; and stand there at once for a proof of their attachment, and for an authority and precedent, in the event of any similar occurrence.

This subject has been much upon my mind, ever since you read to me your reply to them: may the Lord direct us to act for the best! The conclusion from the whole is, however, very clear, whatever difficulties may appear in some parts of the detail, and that is, that God affords you an opportunity of complete rest this summer. We are willing to labor, and through mercy able. Your strength and wisdom is to sit still. I long exceedingly to hear of your having left Tunbridge, and count much, under God, upon your quiet retreat in the Isle of Wight. You will then have less speaking, and more sweet solitude — the prince of medicines in your circumstances. With Preston’s company you will have all the society you need. One only danger will remain, viz. your being well too soon; or using your voice before there is a radical

136 m. bimeon’b lbttbb to bis PARisHioirEKfl. [chap. IX.

and complete recovery. Do, my dear sir, consider of what vast importance this is. A decided and thorough recovery may set ybu up for a course of years; and O! ecquid erit pretiit Remember that your presence here in summer is really not important; your thorough amendment is unspeakably so. Remember too that I am neither burdened nor wearied. Every occasional pressure will be (under all the circumstances of this most important case) not only cheerfully, but thankfully borne. For indeed I prize this opportunity of labor as a rich benefit to the church, and am more thankful than I can express, on your account — your people’s — my own — and the work of God at large; and I solemnly promise to relax, as soon as ever I discover that my labors become injurious. Of this I have never yet had the slightest symptom. Let me hear from you soon. I wish you would shorten your visit at Tunbridge. I have no doubt Mr. Preston will join you before the commencement. Yours affectionately,

“T. Thomason.”

Upon this Mr. Simeon writes to the church-wardens and parishioners of Trinity Parish: —

Tunbridge Wells, Jane 10, 1807.

Gentlemen, —

I have again and again revolved in my mind your proposal, relative to the suspension of the afternoon service, and the transfer of the lectureship to the evening service. But while I am deeply impressed with a sense of your kindness, I scarcely know how to avail myself of it I am unwilling to relax my exertions for the good of my parishioners, as long as there shall be any prospect of continuing them, without utterly destroying my own health. I confess I am not very sanguine in my expectations of ever being able to prosecute my work upon my former scale of exertion; but as nothing is impossible with God, I think it desirable to suspend all further consideration of this matter, till full experience shall have evinced, that no alternative remains, but either to contract my labors, or entirely to sink under them. While it shall please God to preserve my life and strength, I trust I shall be enabled, through his grace, to improve them for you: it is for your sakes chiefly that I value them; and when they fail, it will be an unspeakable comfort to me that they have been worn out in your service, and in the service of my God.

“With many thanks for your kind solicitude respecting me, and with earnest prayers for your eternal welfare, I remain, gentlemen,

“Your most affectionate Pastor,

And willing servant for Christ’s sake,

-C. Simeon.”