His Early Life and Conversion

Richard Baxter was born at Rowton, Shropshire, (England,) on the 12th of November, 1615. He resided in that village with his maternal grandfather till he was nearly ten years of age, when he was taken home to live with his parents at Eaton Conslantine, in the same county. His father, he says, “had the competent estate of a freeholder, free from the temptations of poverty and riches; but having been addicted to gaming in his youth, as was also his father before him, it was so entangled by debts, that it occasioned some excess of worldly cares before it was freed.”

The father of Richard Baxter, about the time cf his son’s birth, became seriously impressed with the importance of divine truth, and appears to have subsequently become a sincere follower of the Redeemer. His conversion was effected chiefly through the instrumentality of reading the Scriptures. He had but few opportunities of attending on other means of grace. Many of the pulpits were occupied by ministers igno-LIFE OF BAXTER.

rant of the truili as it is in Jesus; and those who preached the Gospel in its purity were, for the most part, so despised and contemned, that it required no small share of moral courage to attend on their ministry. Converted himself, he became anxious for the salvation of his only son. He directed the attention of his youthful charge to the sacred Scriptures, whence he had himself derived so much benent. Nor were his in&irueiions and efforts al together vain. Baxter thus mgenuousiy confesses his early &ins and convictions, in his history of his own life and times:

At first my father set me to read the historical parts of Scripture, which, suiting with my nature, greatly delighted me; and though all that time I neither understood nor relished much the doctrinal part and mystery of redemption, yet it did me good, by acquainting me with the matters of fact, and drawing me on to love the Bible, and to search by degrees into the rest.

“But though my conscience would trouble me when I sinned, yet diveta sins I was addicted to, and often committed against uiy conscience; which, lor the warning of others, I will here confess, to my shame.

“1. I was much addicted, when I feared correction, to lie, that I might escape.

“2. I was much addicted to the excessive gluttonous eating of apples and pears, which, I think, laid the foundation of that weakness of my stomach which caused the bodily calamities of my life.

“3. To this end, and to concur with naughty boys that gloried in evil, I have often gone into other men’s orchards, and stolen their fruit, when I had enough at home.

“4. I was somewhat excessively addicted to play, and that with covetousness for money.

“5. I was extremely bewitched with a love of romances, fables, and old tales, which corrupted my affections and wasted my time.

“6. I was guilty of much idle foolish chat, and imitation of boys in scurrilous foolish words and actions, though I durst not swear.

“7. I was too proud of the commendations of my instructors, who all of them fed my pride, making me seven or eight years the highest in the school, and boasting of me to others; which, though it furthered my learning, yet helped not my humility.

“8. I was too bold and irreverent towards my parents.

“These were my sins, with which, in my childhood, conscience troubled me for a great while before they were overcome.”

His convictions gathered strength, although occasionally resisted. The temptations to neglect religion were strong and powerful. The reproach cast on his father and others, who, for their desire and pursuit of holiness, were contemptuously designated “Puritans,” proved for a season a stumbling-block in his path. Still, however, the reflecting mind of the son led him to discern the difference between the conduct of his father and that of his calumniators, and to conclude that there was more of reason and truth in a life of holiness, than in a life of impiety and rebellion against the majesty of heaven. He says:

“In the village where I lived, the Reader read the common prayer briefly; and the rest of the day, even till dark night almost, except eating time, was spent in dancing under a may-pole and a great tree, not far from my father’s door, where all the town met together: and though one of my father’s own tenants was

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the piper, he could not re*irain him not break the sport: so that we could not read the Scripture in our family without the great disturbance of the taber and pipe, and noise in the street 1* Many times my mind was inclined to be among them, and sometimes I broke loose from my conscience and joined with them; and the more I did it, the more I was inclined to it. But when I heard them call my father ‘Puritan,- it did much to cure me and alienate me from them; for I considered that ray father’s exercise of reading the Scripture was better than theirs, and would surely be judged better by all men at the last; and I considered what it was. for which he and others were thus derided. M’hen I heard them speak scornfully of others, as Puritans, whom I never knew, I was at first apt to beliere all the lies and slanders wherewith they loaded them; but when I heard my own father so reproached, and perceived that drunkards were the most forward in the reproach. I perceived that it was mere malice. For my father never objected to common prayer or ceremonies, nor spoke against bishops, nor ever so much as prayed but by a book or form, being unacquainted then with any that did otherwise. But only for reading Scripture when the rest were dancing on the Lord’s day, and for praying by a form out of the end of the common prayer book, in his house, and for reproving drunkards and swearers, and for talking sometimes a few words of Scripture, and about the life to come, he was reviled commonly by the name of Puritan. Precisian, and Hypocrite; and so were the godly ministers that lived in the country near us, not only by our neighbors, but by

* These profanations of the Lxprd’«i dmv were authorised amd

encouraged by the roval proclamatiou. called the Book of Sports, set forth A. D. lolS. — See Life of Bishop HaU, p. 36.

hllh OF BAXTER. the common talk of the multitude all about us. By this observation I was fully convinced that godly people were the best; and those that despised them, and lived in sin and pleasure, were a malignant, unhappy sort of people; and ttiis kept me out of their company, except now and then, when the love of sports and play enticed me.”

When about fifteen years of age, “it pleased God,” he writes, of his wonderful mercy, to open my eyes with a clearer insight into the concerns and case of my own soul, and to touch my heart with a livelier feeling of things spiritual than ever I had. found before.” While under this concern, a poor man in the town lent his father an old torn book, entitled “Bunny’s Resolutions.” “In reading this book,” he observes, “it pleased God to awaken my soul, and show me the folly of sinning, and the misery of the wicked, and the inexpressible weight of things eternal, and the necessity of resolving on a holy Vile, hiore than “I was ever acquainted with before. The same things which I knew before, came now in another manner, with light, and sense, and seriousness to my heart.”

“Yet, whether sincere con version began now, or before, or after, I was never able to this day to know; for I had before had some love to the things and people that were good, and a restraint from sins, except those foremeutioned; and so much “from iriost of those, that I seldom committed them, and when I did, it was with great reluctance. And, both now and formerly, I knew that Christ was the only mediator by whom we must have pardon,’ justification, and life; but I had little lively sense of the love of God in Christ to the world or me, or of my special need of him!”,” About this time it pleased God that a poor pedlar

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came to the door with ballads and some good books, and my father bought of him Dr. Sibbs’ ‘Bruised Reed.’ This, also, I read, and found it suited to my taste, and seasonably sent me; which opened more the love of God to me, and gave me a livelier apprehension of the inysiery of redemption, and of iny obligations to Jesus Christ.-’

‘* After this, we had a servant who had a little piece of Mr. Perkins’ works, * Of Repentance,’ and the ‘Art of living and dying well,’ and the ‘Government of the Tongue;’ and the reading of that did further inform me, and confirm me. And thus, without any vwans but books, was God pleased to resolve me for himself.”

Various are the means by which God awakens the soul to a sense of its danger, and leads it to the knowledge and enjoyment of himself. The pulpit and the school, conversation and reading, correspondence and lid vice, have bepn employed as instruments in the hands of the Eternal Spirit in etfecting the conversion of souls. To preaching, as the express appointment of God, must be ascribed the highest place; but inferior only to it is the instrumentality of religious books. In places where the preaching of the Gospel is unknown or unattended, the distribution of such books is of the utmost importance. To such bowks Baxter was greatly indebted for his conversion: and having derived so much benefit from this means, he ever after employed it extensively among his friends, his flock, ’ and all to whom his influence would reach. The facilities afforded, in the present day, for the dissemination of religious knowledge are truly astonishing; and among others, the efforts of Religious Tract Societies, with their millions of publications, should not be overlooked.

Many will arise in the last day, and acknowledge that their conversion was effected by means of these publications. Nor is it the least advantage of these institutions, that they afford an opportunity to persons in the humblest circumstances to be instrumental in doing good to their fellow-creatures. They can give a Tract, though they cannot deliver a discourse; they can send a Tract where they cannot visit in person; they can circulate books where they cannot engage in religious conversation. In the formation of Baxter’s early religious opinions and character, we see the instrumentality of a laborer, a pedlar, and a servant employed. The sovereignty of God is clearly seen in the agents and means of salvation. “His wisdom is unsearchable, and his ways are past finding out.” “To God, only wise, be all the glory.”

Baxter’s early education was greatly neglected. His professed teachers were either incompetent to their task, or suffered him to be occupied rather as he chose than according to any regular plan. Notwithstanding this neglect and irregularity, he made considerable progress. He rose superior *.o every ditTiculty, and in due time became qualified to enter the university. He was persuaded, however, not to enter college, but to pursue his studies under the direction of Mr. Wickstead, chaplain to the council at Ludlow Castle. Being his only pupil, it was expected that, through the undivided attention of his tutor, his proficiency would be greater than either at Cambridge or Oxford. The preceptor became much attached to the pupil; but being in earnest quest of place and preferment, he neglected his charge. He allowed him “books and time enough,” but never seriously attempted to instruct and improve his mind. Nor was this the only

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disadvantage attending his residence at Ludlow, for lie was thrown into gay and fasliioiiable society, and was exposed to the various temptations incident to such a situation. His religious principles were in danger of being corrupted or destroyed by the practice of gambling; but he was enabled, by the grace of (lod, lo escape the snaze, and to resist all subsequent attempts to lead him astray. In this situation he formed an intimacy with a young man of professed piety, but who, at length, by the seductive influence of liquor, became an apostate. At this period, however, he int.inicled young Baxter ‘* in the way of God more perfectly;” prayed with him, exhorted and encouraged him in Ills religious course, and thus became of essential service lo his young friend. Baxter remained with his tutor about a year and a half, and then returned home. At the request of lord Newport, he look the charge of the grammHr scho(d at Wroxeler for a short time, as the master wr.s in a dying state. On his death, Baxter left this charge, and pursued his studies and religious inquiries under the direction of the venerable Mr. Garbett, a minister of Wroxeter.

The health of Baxter was in a precarious slate, and, in the prospect of eternity, lie became more solicito.rs to improve ids remaining days in the worship and ways, and service of God. He says:

Heing in expectation of death, by a violent cough, with spitting of blood, &c. of two years continuance, F’ipposed to be a consumption, I was awakened to be more solicitous about my soul’s everlasting state; and 1 came so short of that sense and seriousness which a matter of such hifinite weight required, that I was many years in doubt of my sincerity, and thought I had no spiritual life at al!. I wondered at the seitdeless

hardness of my heart, that I could think and talk of sin and hell, and Christ and grace, of God and heaven with no more feeling. 1 cried from day lo day to God for grace agains; this senseless deadness. I called myself the most hard-hearted sinner, lliat could feel nothing of ail that I knew and talked of. I was not then sensible of the incomparable excellence of holy love and delight in God, nor much employed in thanksgiving and praise; but all my groans were for more contrition and a broken heart, and I prayed n:iost for tears and tenderness.

“Thus was I long kept with the calls of approaching death at one ear, and the questionings of a doubtful conscience at the other; and since then J have found that this method of God’s was very wise, and no other was so likely to have tended to my good. These bene.^ts of it I sensibly perceived.

“1. It made me vile and loathsome to myself, and made pride one of the most hateful sins in the world to me. I thought of myself as I now think of a detestable sinner, and my enemy: that is, with a love of benevolence, wishing them well, but with little love of complacency at all; and the long continuance of it tended the more effectually to a habit.

“2. It much restrained me from that sportful levity and vanity to which my nature and youthfulness much inclined n»e, and caused me to meet temptatiiins to sensuality with the greatest fear, and made them less effectual against me.

“3. It made the doctrine of redemption the more savory to me, and my thoughts of Christ more serious and clear. 1 remember, in the begitining, how beneficial lo me were Mr. Perkins’ short treatise of the ‘Right Knowledge of Christ crucified,’ and his ‘Ex-LIFE OF BAXTER.

position of the Creed,’ because they taught me howlo live by faith on Christ.

“4. It made the world seem to me as a carcass that had neither life nor loveliness, and it destroyed that ambitious desire after literary fame which was the sin of my childhood. I had a desire before to have attained the highest academical degrees and reputation of learning, and to have chosen out my studies accordingly; but sickness, and solicitousness for my doubting soul, shamed away all these thoughts as fooleries and children’s plays.

“5. It set me upon that method of my studies, of which, since then, I have found the benefit, though at the time I was not satisfied with myself. It caused me first to seek God’s kingdom and his righteousness, and most to mind the one thing needful; and to determine first on my ultimate end, by which I was engaged to choose out and prosecute all other studies but as meant to that end. Therefore divinity not only shared with the rest of my studies, but always had the first and chief place. And it caused me to study a practical divinity first, in the most practical books, in a practical order; doing all purposely for the informing and reforming of my own soul.”

“And as for those doubts of my own salvation, which exercised me many years, the chief causes of them were these:

“1. Because I could not distinctly trace the workings of the Spirit upon my heart, in that method which Mr. Bolton, Mr. Hooker, Mr. Rogers, and other divines describe; nor knew the time of my conversion, being wrought on by the foremenlioned degrees. But, since then, I understood that the soul is in too dark and passionate a plight at first to be able to keep an exact account of the order of its own operations; and that preparatory grace, being sometimes longer and sometimes shorter, and the first degree of special grace being usually very small, it is not to be expected that many will be able to give a true account of the lime when special grace began.

“2. My second doubt was as aforesaid, because of the hardness of my heart, or want of such lively apprehensions of things spiritual as I had about things corporeal. And though I still groan under this as my sin and want, yet I now perceive that a soul in flesh works so much after the manner of the flesh, that it much desires sensible apprehensions; but things spiritual and distant are not so apt to excite emotion and stir the passions.

“3. My next doubt was lest education and fear had done all that ever was done upon my soul, and regeneration and love were yet to be sought; because 1 had found conviction from my childhood, and found more fear than love in all my duties and restraints.

“But I afterwards perceived that education is an ordinary way for the conveyance of God’s grace, and ought no more to be set in opposition to the Spirit, than the preaching of the word; and that it was the great mercy of God to begin with me so soon, and to prevent such sins as else might have been my shame and sor row while I lived. And I understood, that, though foar without love be not a state of saving grace, and greater love to the world than to God be not consistent with sincerity, yet a little predominant love, prevailing against worldly love, conjoined with a far greatei measure of fear, may be a state of special grace. And I found that my hearty love of the word of God» and of the servants of God, and my desires to be more ho-LIFE OF BAXTBR.

ly, and especially the hatred of my heart for loving God no more, and my wish to love him, and be pleasing to him, were not without some true love to himself, though it appeared more sensibly afterwards.

“4. Another of my doubts was, because my grief and humiliation were no greater, and because I could weep no more for this.

“But I understood, at last, that God breaks not all men’s hearts alike, and that the gradual proceedings of his grace might be one cause, and my nature, not apt to weep for other things, another; and that the change of our heart from sin to God is true repentance ;(Snd a loathing of ourselves is true humiliation; and that he that had rather leave his sin, than have leave to keep it, and had rather be the most holy, than have leave to be unholy or less holy, is neither without true repentance nor the love of God.

“5. Another of my doubts was, because I had, after my change, committed some sins deliberately and knowingly. And, be they ever so small, I thought, he that could sin upon knowledge and deliberation, had no true grace; and that, if I had but had as strong temptations to fornication, drunkenness, fraud, or other more heinous sins, I might also have committed them. And if these proved that I had then no saving grace, after all that I had felt, I thought it unlikely that ever I should have any.”

The means by which God was pleased to give me some peace and comfort were —

1. The reading of many consolatory books.

“2. The observation of the condition of other men. When I heard many make the very same complaints that. I did, who were people of whom I had the best esteem for the uprightness and holiness of ibeir lives. it much abated my fears and troubles. And, in particular, it much comforted me to read him whom 1 loved as one of the holiest of all the martyrs, John Bradford, subscribing himself so often, ‘The hard-hearted sinner,’ and ‘The miserable hard-hearted sinner,’ even as I was used to do myself.

“3. And it much increased my peace, when God’s providence called me to the comfortinyof many others that had the same complaints. While I answered their doubts, I answered my own; and the charity which I was constrained to exercise for them, redounded to myself, and insensibly abated my fears, and procured me an increase of quietness of mind.

And yet, after ail, I was glad of probabilities instead of full undoubted certainties: and to this very day, though I have no such degree of doubtfulness as is any great trouble to my soul, or procures any great disquieting fears, yet I cannot say that I have such a certainty of my own sincerity in grace, as excludes all doubts and fears of the contrary.”

Baxter’s old preceptor induced him for a season to lay aside all thoughts of the ministry, and to become an attendant at court. He resided for a month at Whitehall, but became so disgusted with the scenes and practices of high life, that his conscience would not allow his longer continuance from home. He says: “I had, quickly, enough of the court; when I saw a stage-play, instead of a sermon, on the Lord’s day in the afternoon, and saw what course was there in fashion, and heard little preaching but M’hat was, in some part, against the puritans, I was glad to be gone. At the same time, it pleased God, my mother fell sick, and desired my return; and so I resolved to bid farewell to those kinds of employments and expectations.”

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When 1:8 was going home into the country, about Christmas day, A. D. 1G34, he relates that, on meeting a loaded wagon, his horse fell on the side of a bank, by which lie was ilirowu before the wheel, which he says “had gone over me, but that, as it pleased God, the horses suddenly stopped, without any discernable cause, till I was recovered; which commanded me to observe the mercy of my Protector.”

On his rtlurn he found his mother extremely ill. She lingered till May, and then expired.

Baxter’s own health was in a very precarious stale; but he was anxiously desirous of doing good during the short time which he supposed would be allotted to him on earth. He states:

“My own soul benig under serious apprehensions of another world. I was exceedingly desirous to communicate those apprehensions to ignorant, presumptuous, careless sinners. But I was in a very great perplexity between my encouragements and my disco’irageraents. I was conscious of my personal insufficiency, lor want of that measure of learning and experience which so great and high a work required. I hnew that the want of academical honors and degree.^ 7as likely to make me (‘onlemptil)le with the most, and conseqtiently hinder the success of my endeavors. But yet, expecting to be so quickly in another world, the great concerns of miserable souls prevailed with me against all these impediments; and being conscious of a thirsty desire of men’s conversion and salvation, and of some competent persuading faculty of expression •vhlch fervent affections might help to actuate, I reolved, that if one or two souls only might be won to O-jd, it wonM recompense all the dishonor I might receive from men I*’