Rev. Rowland Hill, M.A.

“Grant some of knowledge greater store, ‘”,-,. .:!; ;. ‘More learned some in teaching;

Yet few in life did lighten more,

Or thunder more in preaching.” ♦-::..

When I preached the funeral sermon for this very singular, but excellent and useful man, immediately after the service. Lord Hill, to whom I dedicated the sermon, several ministers of different denominations, and some of the trustees and managers of Surrey Chapel, came into the house, and intimated that I should be expected to write a memoir of the deceased. Some of them, I found, had taken it for granted that I had long been preparing for such a work, and that I had many materials by me for the purpose. I assured them the thought had never entered into my mind; but they pressed it upon me, on the ground that I had been connected with him so long, and knew more of him than any other surviving minister. I was then (and it had affected me in the preaching), suffering under the influenza, and everything appeared trying; and I could not be unconscious of the difficulty of doing justice to so peculiar a character, and of giving satisfaction to many of his admirers. I, therefore, came under no other engagement than to consider the proposal. This I did on my return home; and, as the formidableness of the affair lessened, and I knew that I was not wholly or comparatively unqualified for the performance, I yielded, arid had even written a few pages, when I received a letter from the Rev. Mr. Sidney, informing me that Mrs. Hill, the evening before her death, had urged him, and that Mr. Hill by will had appointed him, to be his biographer. I was thus, and not ungladly, relieved from the arduous task. Mr. Sidney soon fulfilled his appointment; and, after his publication, Mr. Jones, of the Tract Society, also sent forth another Life. I was pleased with both these works, the latter of which had the most of specific delineation; yet the public, never very easily satisfied, seemed to think there was wanting more individuality. There can, indeed, be no character without individuality; but it should have been considered that a writer, in this instance, could not go all lengths, or enter into all the particularizations which the subject would supply, without ofience. There is an idiosyncrasy in mind as well as body; and, if the one tries physical, so does the other moral, anatomy. There are persons uniquely framed and disposed, called, by a distinguished author,” unclassed anopaalies,^^ and who constitute the corps particulier of exceptions to general rules.

Mr. HilFs life would be written at some distance of time from his death better than near it, as in the meantime some innocent peculiarities and facetiousnesses, which many observers might deem exceptionable in a sacred character, would wane away, or strike less; whilst his great excellencies and usefulness would remain, and be more prominent and distinct.

It may not be amiss to mention two mistakes, or inadvertencies, which have crept into these valuable pieces of biography. The one regards Mr. HilFs ecclesiastics. He much disliked strict Independency; but he could not be considered properly as an Episcopalian, in the common or prelatical acceptation of the term. He might not, with many others, have objected to such a bishop as Usher’s primus inter pares, having nothing to do with secular affairs, appointed by the state, chosen by his brethren for his age, talent, and piety, and residing in the midst of his diocese; and he did at first submit to the state of things in the Establishment, as they are, partially — I saj partially, for he only received deacon s orders, not accepting those of priest, on the condition alone by which he could obtain them, viz., regularity; and so, as his drollery expressed it, he ran off with only one boot on; nor was he an enemy to some state-provision for the instruction of the people. But from conviction he preferred Presbyterianism. I cannot be mistaken here, from my intimacy and conversations with him on the very subject. At my last interview with him, a very few weeks only before his death, he unexpectedly said, “Ah, Mr. Jay, Presbyterianism comes much nearer the original and Scriptural model than your Independency or our Episcopacy;” and, stroking his face in his usual way, added, ‘You know this was always my sentiment.” The last time he preached in Bath, he spent the evening with a large party, before whom he explicitly made the same acknowledgment. It was hence he so much liked the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists, as their plan and measures (though not in name) approximated to the system he most approved.

The other piece of misinformation regards his intimacy with Mr. Whitfield. This is everywhere admitted, as if it were a generally known fact. But when and where did any personal intercourse take place between them? The truth is, though Mr. W. wrote a letter to Mr. Hill, encouraging him to continue his field-preaching, yet they never met; and I have often heard Mrs. Hill affirm how mistaken many persons were, for that her husband had never heard or seen Mr. Whitfield. Neither of these things is of much importance, but it is better that each of them should appear as it really was.

My long acquaintance with this noted man commenced when I was yet a student at Marlborough; before I left, or ought to have left, the Academy, he engaged me to go to supply Surrey Chapel for eight weeks. I did this with the approbation of my tutor; and, as I proved acceptable, Mr. Hill much wished me to enter immediately into an entire connexion with him, dividing my labours between London and Wotton-under-Edge, and Haverfordwest; and several other places which were then more or less under his management and control. This I was induced to decline; but, as he seemed disappointed, and rather displeased, at my refusal, I promised, if he desired it, to occupy his pulpit in town for eight Sabbaths annually. This was done rather thoughtlessly; as, after I became a pastor, I found the time too long to be absent at once from the people of my charge; yet, for nearly forty years, I did this; after which I was constrained to reduce my visit to six Sabbaths, and then to four, and then to three; and, upon Mr. HilPs death, with whom my engagement was originally made, I entirely gave up the connexion, wishing also to afford more of my extra services to the demands of country applications, as well as to secure, if possible, a little relaxation and leisure in the season, at the sea-side: “Juniores ad labores, Solve senectutem.” ..-■’-,

Mr. Hni not only built the large Surrey Chapel, where so many souls have been brought to the knowledge of the truth, and such large sums raised in the cause of God and the poor, and where there is even now a vast congregation and church prospering under the ministry of the Uev. Mr. Sherman; * but also a large tabernacle at Wotton-under-Edge, where God, amidst much opposition at first, had peculiarly blessed his preaching. Here several individuals of respectability were converted, and a numerous church was formed, distinguished by much spirituality and zeal, and which is now in a more thriving condition than ever, under the care of the Rev. Mr. Knill.f

* Mr. Sherman has recently resigned the charge of the congregation at Surrey Chapel, and been succeeded by the Rev. Newman Hall.

t Mr. Knill has, since Mr. Jay wrote, removed to Chester, and been succeeded at Wotton-under-Edge by the Rev. J. T. Feaston, during whose residence the Tabernacle has been rebuilt, and the cause greatly prospered.

Adjoining the tabernacle, Mr. Hill built also a dwelling-house, in which he resided the summer half of the year. But during this season his labours were not confined to Wotton, but frequently extended to various other places in England and Wales. My friend and tutor, Cornelius Winter, was acquainted with him years before I had seen him, and from his lips I have derived many anecdotes, especially concerning his earlier history one of which, as I frequently heard him mention it, I will undeviatiugly relate. Mr. Winter was labouring in Bristol when Mr. Hill first came there. He preached much out of doors; and, as he was young, and a gentleman’s son, and betrayed no little wit and humour, which seemed natural to him, he awakened great attention, and crowds followed him. Mr. Winter much ministered unto him, reminding him of his engagements, and attending him in his movements. In another way he was serviceable to him. As he wished to go preaching from place to place, a horse became necessary; and Mr. Winter collected the money that bought one, which, when it was presented to him, and he would know whence it came, he naturally at first declined it, saying he could not think of being under obligation to persons who could not afford it; but Mr. Winter assured him that no one would suffer by so trifling a sacrifice; and that all would feel themselves honoured by his acceptance of it for the service of Christ, and the expense was not great, for it was a poor kind of Rosinante. But for a while it bore this man of God about in those neighbourhoods. Mr. Winter also more than once obtained for him a little pecuniary supply for his present wants. For at this time he had straits; and was it not to his honour that he subjected himself to these, not by vice, but in order to do good to his perishing fellow-creatures, and when he might have been enjoying every kind of indulgence at home? For his offended father withheld for a season all support; and, to bring him back from his wild wanderings, his brother (afterwards Sir Richard Hill) was sent to Bristol. But, lo and behold! when he came and had seen the grace of God, he was so struck with young Rowland s spirit and usefulness, that he not only omitted the design of his mission, but Saul also was amongst the prophets, and he actually began preaching himself; and I have known many who heard him hold forth in his usual coloured dress. How often have I seen cottages and chambers in which this minister of God has been satisfied to eat and sleep, which some not born gentlemen would be very unwilling to put up with!

As Mr. Hill was an educated man, so his talents were very superior to what many may imagine. He had an uncommon quickness of apprehension, which will account for the great fund of general knowledge which he possessed; though he never seemed to study anything, or to read any book attentively through, — yet there was no subject upon which he seemed unable to speak; though in discourse he could never be kept long to any one point. His sentiments were Calvinistic, but his Calvinism never ran to seed. He was not so high in doctrine as his brother. Sir Richard; nor so low as his brother, the Rev. Briant Hill. He was not afraid to address sinners; and when, in a particular place, as he was leaving the vestry to go into the pulpit, one officiously hinted to him, that they preached there only to the elect: “Well,^’ said he,” neither will I, if you ^11 go and set a mark upon them.^^

There was nothing he was so anxious to prevent as the abuse of Gospel- grace. Who has not witnessed his abhorrence of Antinomianism? In later years, indeed, he was led to notice its adherents too often, and too much; for they were unworthy of his attention; and as they were sure from prejudice not to hear him, it was trying for others to suffer on their account. Never did a minister more deserve the character of a Gospel-preacher. Without being censorious, a hearer would sometimes be perplexed to characterize some men’s pulpit performances. James the First, on hearing a discourse in which the preacher had said much of politics, turned to Bishop Andrews, and said, “My lord, is this to be considered a sermon, or not? ‘^ To which he replied, “May it please your majesty, it may pass for one by a very charitable construction.^’ And Louis XVI. is reported, after hearing one of his chaplains, to have said,” This preacher would have left nothing out of his sermon, if he had happened to touch upon religion.’’

But no candour or allowance was necessary in judging of Mr. Hill’s discourses. There was not one of them but more than touched upon the sole theme of the Apostle’s ministry, “Jesus Christ and him crucified,” — “the Lord our righteousness and strength;” whatever his subject was, it was sure, before its close, to exhale forth something of the “savour of the Redeemer’s knowledge.”

As Mr. Hill is not to be tried by ordinary rules, and as he is not likely to become a precedent or example, (for who ever again is likely to be constituted or circumstanced like him?) we may the more freely speak of his character and ministry.

He has, in his own odd way, in one of his dialogues, spoken of three kinds of preachers the tap-cask j the slop-dash, and the slap-dash. By the first he means preachers distinguished by tame and correct feebleness; without faults, but also destitute of all energy of thought or force of expression, — as Shakespeare would say, fit to “chronicle small beer.” By the second, he means preachers marked by strong things in doctrine, but loose, and hazardous, and extravagant in representation; aiming at great eflPect by the noise of manner and the conceits of folly. But by the third, the slap-dashers, he meant preachers whose addresses were attended by an inartificial and often abrupt manner; with sudden and bold allusions, and stirring anecdotes; and rough and homely familiarities of expression, and flashes of

A A imagination and passion; preachers who, despising formality, and aiming at impressiveness, if not sometimes offending taste alarmingly, yet keep within the bounds of truth and general propriety. This third species, as differing from the two former, was the kind of preaching which Mr. Hill intended to recommend, and to practise. Let us see how far he exemplified it.

And here, while we would not plead for anything improper, by whatever authority it has been sanctioned; so neither shall we censure anything against which mere fastidiousness, or affectation, or prejudice, may object. There may be a negligence of style which betrays a nobleness of mind, a mind too much impressed with things to be at liberty to attend to the nicety and order of words; though here another extreme is to be avoided, and plainness of dress is not to let in the disgust of slatternliness.

The goodness (we speak now only of the goodness of their composition) of public discourses, depends much upon their adaptation to the audience addressed, and the aim the speaker has in view. Mr. Hill always wished to be considered the apostle of the common people, in resemblance of Him whom the common people heard gladly, and in whose teaching “the poor had the Gospel preached unto them.^’ But he who undei-takes this work of faith and labour of love, will find that he has not to address angels, or sometimes hardly men. He will need to learn the advice which Isocrates was wont to give his pupils, —” Study the people; “or that which Cromwell gave to his soldiers, — “Fire low.’’ Had his men fired high, they would have done no more execution than some of our preachers who shoot over their hearers’ heads.

The eloquence of the pulpit cannot be, in the nature of things, philosophical; but is it rhetorical? The feelings are always eloquent; but they cannot be learned in the schools. “Rhetoric,” says Coleridge, “is the creature of art, which he who feels less will most excel in. It is the quackery of eloquence, abounding with specious but mere pretensions. Eloquence was ruined after it began to be taught by sophists and grarnmarians in the schools.’^ If the wish and aim of a preacher should be mere eloquence, he would do well to remember the observation of Mr. Hall: — “A consummate orator is a character which we despair of ever seeing perfectly associated with that of a Christian teacher. The minister of the Gospel is called to declare the testimony of God, which is always weakened by a profuse employment of the ornaments of secular eloquence. The imagination is too much excited and employed by those exquisite paintings and nice touches of art, not to interfere with the awful functions of conscience; — the hearer is absorbed in admiration, and the exercise which ought to be the instrument of conviction becomes a feast of taste. It is a strong objection to a studied attempt at oratory in the pulpit, that it naturally induces a neglect of the peculiar doctrines of the Gospel, where the preacher feels himself restrained, and is under the necessity of explaining texts, of obviating objections, and elucidating difficulties, which limits the excursions of imagination, and not only confines, but breaks his fine expatiatings in the flowery field of declamation.’^

Hume observes, that the speaker who most powerfully affects the mass of an audience, ought to be considered the greatest orator. And Dr. Campbell says, — “We readily admit and zealously contend, that nothing can be more opposite to a jut notion of eloquence than a rule to exclude familiar and very humble objects and topics from all intervention in the illustration of great subjects.^’ Under the direction of genius, very common and even mean matters may be conjured up into marvellous appositeness, and dignified services.

To return: — These remarks are not impertinent. They will prepare us to go forward, and will serve in a measure to explain, and in a degree to defend, the preacher before us.

Mr. Hill was not, as many think, who have only heard of him

A A 2 by report, that lying tale-bearer, a mere boisterous bawler. He was sometimes loud, and occasionally even, vehement; but in common his voice only rose with his subject; and it was easy to perceive that it was commonly influenced and regulated by his thoughts and feelings. He was not like those who strain and roar always and equally, having no more energy or emphasis for one thing than another. As the parts of a subject must vary, some being more tender, some more awful, some more plain, and some more abstruse, a uniformity of vehemence must be unnatural; it is obviously mechanical; and will, after a while, have only a kind of automaton-effect.

Mr. Hill had an assistant that erred this way, and I remember how he one day reproved him. ‘^ J /^ said he,” you

yelp like a puppy as soon as you get into the field; but I am an older hound, and do not wish to cry till I have started something.^’

As many things said of him were entirely false, — so, some that were true were xnuch enlarged and aggravated. But he had many freedoms in the pulpit which could not be entirely justified. These were commonly the effects of his engaging with little or no premeditative preparation. He never wrote anything like an outline, or even seemed to have attempted to methodize his thoughts. Three things have often made me wonder at his continual neglect of this: — First, — That it arose not from inability. He could think, and think consecutively and orderly; as appears from his Dialogues, — a species of writing in which he excelled, and which requires no small degree of reflection, forecast, and comparison. Secondly, — That he was not urged to more previous arrangement and readiness, from his suffering so much, which I know he occasionally, if not frequently, did, from his embarrassments in his work, and his uneasiness after it was over. And, Thirdly, — That his piety did not constrain him, by reflecting what a talent was given him.

in having the care of a thousand people committed to him; and what a duty it was to use it to the best possible advantage.

His text seldom much confined him. I heard his brother. Sir Richard, complaining of this, and making this just remark, — “When a man gives out a text, he raises my expectation to hear that text explained and improved; and I feel disappointed if I hear as good, or better things, from any other words.^^

Yet, though I think a method, in a way of divisions, (not multiplied,) is a great aid to the preacher and the hearer, the meaning of a text may be substantially treated without it; and Mr. Hill would sometimes, by a few bold thoughts, strike out most powerfully the spirit of a passage. The most original and brilliant sentiments I ever heard him deliver, escaped from him in his loosest harangues, and when his mind was void of all sense of effort. Indeed, when a preacher who extemporizes much is in a good frame of mind, and thought flows freely and easily, he will feel more fresh and lively than one who has anticipated and familiarized his subject by premeditation; but, at other times, having nothing to support him, or to start from, he is perplexed by effort, or reduced to very common-place. So true it is, as Lord Brougham says, that” he who studies, and is most prepared, always extemporizes best.^^

I have observed that, while divisions of the subject were to others only as the banks of a river, which do not hinder, but guide and accelerate the stream; all Mr. Hill’s attempts at arrangement, if he had made any, would have been like throwing something across the current, which impeded and made it run astray.

He was in danger from another quarter. Wit, it has been said, is a quality which more instantly and irresistibly pleases and captivates than any other attribute of a speaker. We need not wonder, therefore, if the possessor of this endowment should be tempted to use it unduly and unseasonably. How hard must it have been for Mr. Hill to leave his humour behind him when he entered the pulpit! This was, indeed, overruled for good; and the expectation of hearing something droll and witty drew many to hear him, who, though they came to laugh, returned to pray. But Mr. Hill himself was not unconscious of the danger he7’e. In his sermon on the death of the Rev. Mr. Roquet, of Bristol, he says, — “Amid all these amiable endowments, is it to be wondered at if one hears a distant hint, as if now and then my dear loved friend might have been supposed to have made somewhat of a small elopement from that cheerfulness which is truly Christian, towards a disposition too nearly bordering upon a turn of pleasantry, which might have needed a little more of the spirit of solemnity? With the greatest delicacy I mention this hint,^ and am glad to cover it with the mantle of love, by lamenting before you all the same weakness. A lively, active disposition is too apt to lead into this mistake. In many things we offend, and it is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed.’’

A man should never dive who cannot swim. Mr. Hill could come up again; and we have often seen the smile which he excited soon followed by the dropping tear. Yet these outbreaks of wit and humour sometimes gave offence, and caused his good to be evil spoken of; and it must be owned that his ideas, like rich clusters of grapes, sometimes, for want of proper support, fell down and were soiled upon the ground. But, though you could not tie the wings or guide the flight of the eagle in his preaching, it was otherwise with his prayers. There was nothing eccentric, nothing of levity there. They were even singularly solemn, serious, and devotional; and they had also two other good qualities. They were always short, and also free from the introduction of very particular cases, which endangers devotion by awakening curiosity, and embarrasses the preacher by the difficulty of properly wording them.

I do not think with some that candour was one of Mr. Hill’s greatest qualities. Among his own immediate connexions, he expected implicit submission, and his will was law. Of other parties, who diiOTered from him, he could speak freely.* He did not always distinguish between bigotry and regularity, nor consider that persons were not to be run down as illiberal, because they acted conscientiously, and did not feel themselves at liberty to tread in all his steps. Johnson surprised some when he was in Scotland, by calling a man, who seemed to lay stress upon nothing,” a bigot to laxness.^’

But too much cannot be said of his Benevolence and Beneficence. Tenderness and kindness seemed inherent in his very nature; and they were nourished and strengthened by the spirit

* He was commonly not very candid or courteous towards our Baptist friends, and would use severe, if not insulting sayings, when he administered the ordinance of infant-baptism. One evening he preached at our Association at Bath. On these occasions our brethren of all denominations mingle. His sermon was not only very loose and unconnected, but irritating and reflective towards the Baptists, many of whom were present;

so that their minister, Mr. P, instantly left the place, and never could

be prevailed upon to hear him again. The case was, he had come down from Chippenham in the afternoon, where they had told him of the indiscretions and influence of some not very well accredited Baptist preacher. This prepossessed his mind; he could think of nothing else, and for the time speak of nothing else. And this leads me to observe how much depended always, as to his preaching, upon the company and conversation of the persons he immediately left to go into the pulpit. These would commonly give a turn or a tincture to the sermon. His wisest and best friends knew this, and would be concerned to bring forward nothing but what would rather aid than injure him. Upon this principle, he always preached best of a Sunday morning, when the bloom was not rubbed off from the plum, and he only left the company of Prophets and Apostles.

of the religion which lie so eminently possessed. He did good to his beast, and his feeling for the brutes sometimes showed itself in ways which many would be almost ready to ridicule; but it bespoke the sensibility of his disposition.* And not only did the enthusiast and fanatic, (as some supposed him to be,) regard the souls of men, but their bodies and outward estate. Hence his frequent collections for the poor, and his visiting their lowly sheds, and teaching them arts and habits of economy. Hence he built tenements for the indigent at Wotton, and almshouses for widows in London. Hence he even learned vaccination, and always carried lymph with him, and performed upon hundreds, if not thousands, in the towns and villages he visited in preaching.

“I have seen an end of all perfection; and my friend had failings. The greatest of these I ever observed in him was an extremely quick sense of any injury or offence, and allowing it to linger about his spirit. The offence, too, was sometimes supposed, rather than real, or credited on the evidence of some tattler, or busybody, who too often beset him, and was not sufficiently frowned off. His high regard for moral consistency would be enough to make one impropriety or indiscretion undo much of an opposite quality, and where there was anything actually peccable in the character of a professor, or especially a minister, the spirituality and purity of his mind would render it more intolerable to him than it would be to many men.

With too little discrimination many of his striking sayings and allusions have been published. If I were required to add to them, I should not repeat many of his homespun, familiar, lowly, and very simple images and illustrations; but only try to

* Thus he had what he called a Frogery and Toadery at the bottom of his orchard, where he said these poor creatures could marry and be given in marriage, and live an unpersecuted and merry life.

distinguish the flowers he gathered off the bank from those which occasionally he drew from the ditch. Yet here it is very probable I should be too fastidious for some, and admit and admire too much for others. — In one of his sermons he was speaking of the value of the Gospel from its relative aim and influence. — “It makes,” says he, “husbands better husbands, and wives better wives; parents better parents, children better children; masters better masters, and servants better servants; in a word, I would not give a farthing for that man’s religion whose cat and dog were not the better for it.” Every one could not have uttered this, but I received it from no less a person than Mr. Wilberforce, who heard it himself, and who remarked that, while probably everything else he said that evening was long ago forgotten, no one would ever forget this.

Preaching at one of our Associations, and seeing several ministers present who were belligerentSj he gave an arch look towards them, and said, ‘^ I am afraid some preachers will die of the fat-rot.’’

Not very long before his death, meeting an acquaintance who was nearly as aged as himself, he said, “If you and I don’t march off soon, our friends yonder,” (looking upwards) “will think we have lost our way.”

Reading in my pulpit the words of the woman of Samaria at the well, ^’ the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans,” — looking off, as if he saw the parties themselves, he exclaimed, “But the devil has had dealings enough with both of you.”

He one day said, “When I was in Scotland I found many parties all very clever and zealous in defending their own tenets, and distinguishing between their Sibboleths and Shibboleths. There were the Lifters and the anti-Lifters. These were divided by the action of the minister in the sacramental elements, — viz., whether, in the consecration of them at the table, he should lift them up or not. One of their pastors was ordained by imposition of hands; but one of the elders could not reiach his hand far enough to impose it on the head of the candidate, and so he put along his cane, —” This,” says he, ‘^ did equally well; it was timber to timber.”

I never thought Mr. Hill particularly happy in the introduction of many of his anecdotes. As far as wit, humour, or drollery, was concerned, he invariably succeeded; but sometimes his anecdotes were abruptly brought in, in consequence of the failure of subject-matter to go on with; and Mr. HilPs voice, though good and strong, was not versatile and pathetic, so as to make the circumstance of the incident to “touch and tell.” Herein he was inferior to Whitfield. Though he had more stoutness, and firmness, and independence of mind than Whitfield, he had not the same softness and sensibility; while Whitfield’s voice was incomparable, not only distinct and loud, but abounding vdth every kind of inflection, and perfectly under the power of the owner; so that he could render everything he expressed, however common or insignificant in itself, striking and affecting. How many proofs and instances of this did I receive from my friend and tutor, Mr. Winter, who related them from his own observation and hearing! I lament I did not receive more of them from his mouth. At this moment I remember two of them, which, as specimens, I will exactly relate.

On going to preach at Bristol Tabernacle, he began his series of sermons on the eve of Bristol fair. His text was Isaiah Iv. 1, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money; come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.” The congregation was large. Thus he began: — “My dear hearers, I guess many of you are come to attend Bristol fair. So am I. You do not mean to show your goods until to-morrow; but I shall exhibit mine to-night. You are afraid purchasers will not come up to your prices; but I am afraid my buyers will not come down to mine; for mine (striking his hand on the Bible) are ’ without money and without price.^”

Upon the death of his wife, he preached her funeral sermon. The text was, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.^’ — Romans viii. 28. In noticing her character he mentioned her fortitude, and suddenly exclaimed, “Do you remember my preaching in those fields, by the old stump of the tree? The multitude was great, and many were disposed to be riotous. At first I addressed them firmly; but when a desperate gang of banditti drew near, with the most ferocious looks and horrid imprecations and menaces, my courage began to fail. My wife was then standing behind me, as I stood on the table. I think I hear her now. She pulled my gown (he then put his hand behind him, and touched his gown), and, looking up, said, ‘George, play the man for your God.^ My confidence returned. I again spoke to the multitude with boldness and affection; they became still; and many were deeply affected.”

Mr. Hill sometimes rendered a word of rebuke equally strong and witty. Thus, when a preacher of no very good reputation was in the vestry of a place where he was going to preach, and seemed uneasy lest his servant should not arrive in time with his cassock, Mr. HUl said, “Sir, you need not be uneasy; for I can preach without my cassock, though I cannot preach without my character.” ■’■’.

As he was coming out of a gentleman’s house in Piccadilly, he met in the passage a minister with a begging case, who, though popular with some, had, it was suspected, bepn imposing for a good while on the religious public; who offered him his hand, but Mr. HUl drew back, and looking him in his face, said, “Ah, I thought you had been hanged long ago.”

A forward and conceited young man one day calling upon him at my house, asked him if he had heard that he was going to change his sentiments? “No, sir,” said Mr. Hill, “I have not; but, if you have not fixed the time, I would advise you to do it as near the change of the moon as possible,”

A rather talkative woman one day said to him, “I have been a good deal of late with some papists, and they have sadly tempted me to change my religion.’’ ‘’Indeed, ma’am,” he replied,” I was not aware until now you had any religion to

change.”

I once heard him repeat the Lord’s Prayer, and witnessed the great effect produced when he had said, “Forgive us our trespasses,” by making a considerable pause before he added, “as we forgive them that trespass against us;” — as if he almost feared to utter it, lest he should condemn himself and others.

I remember what an impression he made when preaching for me, by an interjective parenthesis; — for when, in reading the chapter, 1 Thessalonians v., he repeated the verse, “Abstain from all appearance of evil,” he lifted his eyes, and said in a very solemn voice, “Oh, the infinite delicacy of the Gospel!”

His brother, Sir Richard, once told me of an early instance of his adroitness, remarking that he was the same from a lad. It occurred while he was at Eton College. Even then he was under deep impressions of a religious nature; and as he felt the importance of divine things himself, he was active and concerned to do good to others; and thus he did with an old female servant that frequently waited upon him. She one day rather reproved him for his zeal, saying that persons should not be righteous over-much, and should be careful to avoid extremes in religion. “Some,” she said, “were too cold, and some were too hot.” “Then,” said young Rowland, “I suppose you think that we had better be lukewarm?” “Yes,” she said, “that was the proper medium.” He then took up his Testament, and read the Saviour’s address to the Church of Laodicea: —” I woidd thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth /^ at which his tepid admonisher seemed a little surprised and aghast.

He was the intimate friend of Dr. Jenner, who introduced vaccination. To this discovery he was an admiring and practical devotee, I was one day with him when one of the company was speaking rather disrespectfully of this remedy, and said there was something very disagreeable and offensive in communicating a disease from a filthy beast into a human being.” A filthy beast, sir! why, a cow is one of the most agreeable of all animals; everything about her is wholesome and useful; we get odour from her breath; she supplies our tables with meat, and* butter, and cream, and cheese; and I assure you, sir, I would rather eat a cow than a Christian.^^

I know that once at Wotton he was preaching in the afternoon, (the only time when it seemed possible to be drowsy under him,) he saw some sleeping, and paused, saying,” I have heard that the miller can sleep while the mill is going, but if it stops it awakens him. I ^11 try this method ;^^ and so sat down, and soon saw an aroused audience.

I was one day walking with him through Bath. In the market-place we met an eminent clergyman, whom he much respected, but with whom he could be familiar, having been at college with him. He had for some weeks been in the city, where, as to his not having preached in any of the churches, there existed no surprise; but Mr. Hill thought it became him to countenance his own creed wherever he was, by his practice.

He therefore began instantly: ‘’ Ah! Mr. j this will

never do. You know the value of the Gospel; you have published, not only in favour of its truth, but of its all-importance. You have contended that God only gives testimony to the word of his grace; and have said that those who preach any other doctrine are betrayers and destroyers of souls, condemning them as worse than Robespierre, who only murdered mens bodies.

while these destroyed their souls,” The divine began to explain and defend. “Nay,” said Mr. HiH “my dear brother, I may take you upon your own ground, and argue with you on your own principles and professions. How can you, with your avowed sentiments, turn your back upon the Gospel where it is preached, and go where you acknowledge it is not preached, owning, too, a great difference between things essential and not essential in religion; and that our preferences in subordinate matters should not amount to exclusions? What is the chaff to the wheat? I contend that always, and wherever we are, we ought to show our regard to the truth as it is in Jesus; and that this cannot be done by indifferent and indiscriminate attendance. Here you admonish people to abide where they are; praying and waiting till the Gospel comes there, without any promise when it will come, or whether it will come at all into their particular church, unless in the latter-day glory; while in the mean-time they are hearing words which cause them to err, and are in danger of perishing for lack of knowledge. Can you believe that one would do this who determined to know nothing save Jesus Christ and him crucified; and suffered the loss of all things for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord?’’ “Dear Rowland,” said his friend, “I see you are Rowland still.” “Yes,” said his reprover,” and I hope I shall never change or skulk even to the end. You say I go too far. You know in doctrine you go as far as I go; but I see you have met with

Nicodemus; and the fear of men bringeth a snare.” Mr.

was now glad to turn the conversation, and to notice the grand victory of Trafalgar, which had just been achieved. “Ah!” said Mr. HiQ, “do you not admire the strain of piety in Collingwood’s despatches? I declare I wish that some of our admirals were made bishops, though I could not wish that any of our bishops were made admirals — unless yellow ones.”

To conclude this imperfect sketch. Let us hear a voice, saying,” What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common /’ and let ns honour them whom God honours, however they may differ from us. He will do his own work in his own way; and let him do what seemeth him good. We need instruments of all kinds, and every man in his own order. Sharpshooters may do execution, as well as the rank-and-file soldiers, and belong to the same army, though their movements are detached, and they seem to act irregularly. David essayed to go in SauFs armour, and could not; but was he inefficient with his sling and stones?

Above all, let us glorify God in him. He might well have said,” By the grace of God I am what I am; and I laboured more abundantly than they all; yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me.^’ And how exceedingly abundant was that grace towards him, in the faith and love which are in Christ Jesus!

Behold the strength of a principle appearing in his ceaseless and self-denying exertions and sacrifices; keeping up the intenseness of his ardour, and allowing nothing to drive or draw him for one moment aside.

If any (for none can accuse him) should be disposed to pity him as weak, and ridicule him as fanatical, a period will soon rectify their judgment, and lead them to pass sentence on themselves: — “We fools counted his life madness, and his end to be without honour. How is he numbered with the children of God, and his lot is with the saints!”

“They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever;’’ and in that day how many princes and heroes and philosophers will envy the man who, through good report and through evil report, followed his Lord with purpose of heart, and then hear that Saviour saying, “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord,”: I