Deathbed Exercises of Richard Baxter and Thomas Scott

Deathbed exercises of Mr. Baxter and the Rev. Thomas Scott, D.D.

“TVR. BATES, ill his funeral sermon, occasioned by the death of Mr. Baxter, has given us an interesting account of his last days, some jjart of which I will extract, as furnishing an example not of a highly excited state of feeling, but of a truly pious, calm, submissive frame of mind. Few persons who ever lived have given more convincing evidence of fervent piety throughout a long life than this devoted servant of God. His end corresponded with the tenor of his life, and with the religion which he inculcated in his sermons.

“He continued,” says Dr. Bates,” to preach so long, notwithstanding his wasted and languishing body, that the last time he almost died in the pulpit. It would doubtless have been his joy to be transfigured in the mount. Not long after he felt the approaches of death, and was confined to his sick bed. Death reveals the secrets of the heart: then words are spoken with most feeling and least affectation. This excellent saint was the same in his life and his death; his last hours were spent in preparing others and himself to appear before God. He said to his friends who came to see him, ‘Ye come hither to learn to die. I am not the only person that must go this way. I can assure you that your whole life, be it ever so long, is little enough to prepare for death. Have a care of this vain, deceitful world and the lusts of the flesh. Be sure you choose God for your portion, heaven for your home, God’s glory for your end and his word for your rule, and then you need never fear but we shall meet m comfort.’ Never was penitent sinner more humble, never was a sincere believer more calm and comfortable. He acknowledged himself to be the vilest dunghill worm (it was his usual expression) that ever went to heaven. He admired the divine condescension to us, often saying, ‘Lord, what is man — what am I, a vile worm — to the great God?’ Many times he prayed, * God be merciful to me a sinner,’ and thanked God that this was left on record in the gospel as an effectual prayer. He said, ‘God may justly condemn me for the best duty I ever performed. All my hopes are from the free mercy of God in Christ.’ After a slumber, he awoke and said, ‘I shall rest from my labour.’ A minister present said, * And your works shall follow you.’ To whom he replied, * No works: I will leave out works if God will grant me the other.’ When a friend was comforting him with the good which many had received by his preaching and writing, he said, ‘I was but a pen in God’s hand, and what praise is due to a pen?’

“His resigned submission to the will of God in his sharp sickness was eminent. When extremity constrained him earnestly to pray to God for his release by death, he would check himself: ‘It is not fit for me to prescribe: when thou wilt, what thou wilt and how thou wilt.’ Being in great anguish, he said, ‘Oh how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out! the reaches of his providence we cannot fathom.’ And to his friends, ‘Do not think the worse of religion for what you see me suffer.’ Being often asked how it was with the inner man, he replied, ‘I have a well-grounded assurance of my eternal happiness, and great peace and comfort within.’ He .said, ‘Flesh must perish, and we must feel the perishing of it,’ and that though his judgment submitted, yet sense would still make him groan. He derived great comfort from that description in Heb. xii.

22, that he was going to the innumerable company of angels and to the general assembly and Church of the first-born, whose names are written in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling that’ speaketh better things than the blood of Abel. ‘That Scripture,’ he said, * deserved a thousand and a thousand thoughts.’

“At another time he said he derived great comfort and sweetness in repeating the Lord’s Prayer, and was sorry some good people were prejudiced against the use of it, for there were all necessary petitions for the soul and body contained in it. He gave excellent counsels to young ministers who visited him, and earnestly prayed to God to bless their labours and make them very successful in turning many souls to Christ — expressed great joy in the hopes that God would do a great deal of good by them, and that their spirits might be moderate and peaceful. He often prayed that God would be merciful to this miserable, distracted world, and that he would preserve his Church and interest in it. He advised his friends to beware of self-conceit, as a sin that was likely to ruin the nation.

“I visited Jiim with a very worthy friend, Mr. Mather, from New England, the day before he died. I said to him, ‘You are now approaching your long-desired home.’ He answered, ‘I believe, I believe.’ He expressed great willingness to die, and during his sickness, when asked, ‘How he did,’ his reply was, ‘Almost well.’ His joy was most remarkable when, in his own apprehension, death was nearest; and his spiritual joy was at length consummated in eternal joy. On the day of his death a great trembling and coldness extorted strong cries from him for pity and relief from heaven; which cries and agonies continued for some time, till at length he ceased and lay in patient expectation of his change. The last words he spoke to me, on being informed that I was come to see him, were, ‘Oh, I thank him, I thank him;’ and turning his eyes to me, said, ‘The Lord teach you how to die.’ To the last I never could perceive his peace and heavenly hopes assaulted or disturbed. I have often heard him greatly lament that he felt no greater liveliness in what appeared so great and clear to him and so much desired by him. He told me he knew it should be well with him when he was gone. He wondered to hear others speak of their sensible and passionately strong desires to die, and of their comforts of spirit when sensible of their approaching death; when, though he thought he knew as miuh as they, and had as rational satisfaction as they could have that his soul was safe, he never could feel their sensible consolations. I asked whether much of this was not to be resolved into bodily constitution: he told me he thought it must be so.”

A wicked and groundless report was circulated that he was greatly troubled with skeptical thoughts before he died. Mr. Sylvester, who was with him during his whole sickness, declares there was not the least foundation whatever for such a rey)ort. But the devil seems to be greatly envious at the comfortable death of God’s people, and therefore his agents are busy in circulating slanders against the saints in regard to this matter. So, although Calvin ended his days in great tranquillity and in the full exercise of faith and enjoyment of reason, his enemies circulated the report that he died in all the horrors of despair. Thus, also, when the Rev. Augustus Toplady was near his end it was circulated that he had renounced all those doctrines of grace for which he was so zealous in his life. Happily, the report reached him before his decease, which gave him tiic ojiportunity of contradicting it, and leaving his dying testimony in favour of those doctrines. His dying experience was of the most joyful and triumphant kind, and would do to be classed with those of John Janeway, Edward Payson and Dr. Samuel Finley, but we have not room for it and many others.

The two Henrys, father and son, so eminent for their piety and usefulness, were carried off by sudden and painful diseases, which afforded little opportunity for much conversation. They experienced, however, much of the divine aid and support. John Howe’s death was exactly in character with his life and writings.

It may be thought that all the specimens of the experience of believers during their last illness have been of the favourable kind, and far above what is witnessed in the greater number of Christians on their dying bed. It may be so. But I wish to remark that in all my life I have known few persons who lived like Christians when in health who did not in their approach to death manifest as much hope and fortitude in that trying hour as could reasonably have been expected from the character of their piety. In many cases, as I have before stated, the comfort and assurance of some timid and desponding believers have risen far above what any of their friends dared to hope. In general, the result of my observation is, that the pious find death less terrible on their near approach to the event than when it was viewed at a distance.

Some persons have naturally a much greater dread of death than others, though their piety may be more lively. Of this class was the late Dr. Thomas Scott, the author of the Commentary on the Bible. Few men of the last age gave stronger evidence of deep-rooted and constant attachment to the Saviour than this devoted man. In the service of his Master he was most laborious and faithful, and it would be difficult to name any man whose evangelical labours have been attended with happier results. He contributed much, in conjunction with such men as Ronmine, Newton, Cecil and others, to extend the influence of vital religion far and wide through the Established Church of England; and his usefulness was not confined to his own country or to the period of his life, but in these United States I know no writings which have been so extensively circulated, and which have so powerful an effect in correcting prevailing errors in religion and promoting sound, evangelical views of scriptural truth. I have selected the dying experience of this man, of undoubted and eminent piety, for the reason hinted at in the beginning of this chapter — because his exercises, though deeply serious, were not, for the most of the time, remarkably comfortable, and in no part of his illness did he express much elevated joy. I think it right to view God’s people in their various states and frames as they approach the end of their pilgrimage.

A pious clergyman remarked, in relation to the exercises of Dr. Scott, that men of profound thought and deep reflection are not commonly so joyful on a dying bed as Christians of less understanding and less experience; and he referred to Bunyan as of the same mind, who represents Christian, his chief pilgrim, as almost overwhelmed with the waters of Jordan, while the less experienced pilgrim, Hopeful, goes over with little difficulty or danger. I cannot say that I can altogether concur in this remark. It may often happen that the unlettered Christian has a livelier faith than the profoundly learned theologian, and of course will be likely to have a calmer, happier exit from the world. But if men of talents and learning possess a vigorous, evangelical faith, they are as likely to rejoice on a dying bed as any others, as is evinced by the examples of Rivet, Baxter, Howe, etc. The diflPerence between the comforts of dying saints may be attributed, first, to divine sovereignty, which distributes grace aEi<i consolation as seemeth good unto him; secondly, to bodily temperament, some persons being more fearful than others and more prone to suspect their own sincerity; and thirdly, to the nature of the disease by which the body is brought down to the grave. It is the tendency of some diseases, while they do not disturb the intellect, to exhilarate the spirits and enliven the imagination, while a distressing depression or perturbation is the effect of others; to say nothing of the different degrees of pain experienced by different persons; and we know that some diseases have a deplorably stupefying effect. A fourth and frequent cause of difference in the exercises of dying persons is produced by the medicine which is administered. When physicians can do nothing to cure, they think it right to lull their patients by opiates or excite them by alcohol. I have, when sick, been more afraid of nothing than these intoxicating and stupefying or even exhilarating drugs. Oh let no artificial means be ever used with me, in that dread hour, to interrupt sober and deliberate reflection!

But to return to Dr. Seott. His disease was a violent fever, so that the range of his pulse was from one hundred and fifty to one hundred and seventy-five in a minute. Under such a disease it is not wonderful that he was often restless and uncomfortable in his feelings. The Rev. Daniel Wilson (now bishop of Calcutta) in his funeral sermon observes, “That for several years preceding the event itself his bodily infirmities had been increasing. His strength and natural spirits at times sensibly failed. His own impression was, that his departure was approaching, and he contemplated it with calmness and tranquillity.” Mr. Wilson with great propriety remarks,” Before I proceed to give some particulars of his most instructive and affecting departure, I must observe that I lay no stress on them as to the evidence of his state before God. It is the tenor of the life, not that of the few suffering and morbid scenes which precede dissolution, that fixes the character. We are not authorized from Scripture to place any dependence on the last periods of sinking nature through which the Christian may be called to pass to his eternal reward. But though no importance is to be attached to these hours of fainting mortality with ]-eference to the acceptance and final

triumph of the dying Christian, yet where it pleases God to afford one of his departing servants, as in the instance before us, such a measure of faith and self-possession as to close a holy and most consistent life with a testimony which sealed, amidst the pains of acute disease and in the most impressive manner, all his doctrines and instructions during forty-five preceding years, we are called on, as I think, to record with gratitude the divine benefit, and to use it with humility for the confirmation of our own faith and joy.”

His second son writes from his bedside: “His gloom, of which I had heard a good deal in an indistinct manner, by no means relates to the prospects which lie before him. He is perfectly calm and cheerful in the view of dissolution, and seems disappointed at the symptoms of recovery. He thought his trials were almost over; and said that yesterday morning he had hoped to end the sacred services of the day in heaven. Indeed, his wish is decidedly to depart, in the confidence that he shall he with Christ, which is far better. His dejection is manifestly nothing more than the feeling of a mind exhausted by its own exertions. His feelings on Sunday were very distressing both to himself and others, and were clearly aggravated by a degree of delirium arising from fever. Yesterday and to-day he has been quite calm, and, though too -wsaak to speak much, is evidently in a tranquil state. I brought my eldest boy with me, that he might once more see his grandfather and receive his last blessing. He spoke to him this morning for a few minutes in a most affecting manner, and pronounced his blessing upon him in a way which I trust he will never forget. May God grant that he may walk in the stejjs which are leading his grandfather to glory!” In another letter, a few days afterward, he says, “Though I can say nothing favourable respecting his health, for he appears approaching very near to his end, yet, thanks be to God! the clouds which overspread his mind are breaking away, and he talks with a placidity and cheerfulness greater than I have before seen since I came.” “Just as we had assembled for family worship he sent to say that he wished us to meet in his room and join in the Lord’s Supper, as a means of grace through which he might receive that consolation that he was seeking. The whole family, with one exception, was present, and an old parishioner. It is impossible to describe the deeply interesting and affecting scene. The feivour displayed by my dear father, the poor emaciated form, the tears and sobs of all present, were almost more than I could bear with that degree of composure which was requisite to enable me to read the service so as to make him hear.” (Dr. S. had become very deaf.) “But it was a delightful feeling, and has done more to cheer our downcast hearts than can well be conceived. It was, moreover, a cordial to my father’s spirits, who adopted the words of the venerable Simeon in the prospect of dissolution: ‘Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.’”

The Rev. D. Wilson in his funeral sermon, of which a number of editions were published, makes the following just remarks: “The remarkable sufferings of so eminent a saint in his last sickness may perhaps at first perplex the mind of a young Christian. But such a person should remember that the way to heaven is ordinarily a way of tribulation, and that the greatest honour God puts on his servants is to call them to such circumstances of affliction as display and manifest his grace. What would have crushed a weak and unstable penitent, with immature knowledge of the promises of salvation, only illustrated the faith of the venerable subyict of this discourse. God adapts the burden to the strength. As to the darkness and anguish which at times rested on his mind, they were clearly the combined effects of disease and the temptations of the adversary. The return of comfort as the fever remitted made this quite certain, and he was himself able, at times, to make the distinction. But even in the midst of his afflictive feelings it is manifest to every real judge of such a case that a living and a strong faith was in vigorous activity. For consolation is one thing, faith another. This latter grace often lays hold of the promises made in Christ with the firmest grasp at the very time when hope and comfort are interrupted by the morbid state of the bodily and mental powers. Our feelings and powers, thank God! are not the foundation on which we build. Never, perhaps, was stronger faith exhibited by our Saviour himself than when he uttered those piercing words, ‘My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?’”

His daughter, in giving an account of the condition of her dying father, says: “In the time of his darkness and gloom he prayed without ceasing and with inexpressible fervour. He seemed unconscious of any one being near him, and gave vent to the feelings of his mind without restraint. And, oh what holy feelings were they ‘What spirituality! what hatred of sin! what humility! what simple faith in Christ! what zeal for God’s glory! what submission! Never could I hear him without being reminded of Him ’ who, being in an agony, prayed the more earnestly.” I think nothing,’ said he, ’ of my bodily pains — my soul is all. I trust all will end well, but it is a dreadful conflict. I hope — I fear — I tremble — I pray. Satan tries to be avengetl of me in this awful hour for all thaL I have done against his kingdom through life. He longs to pluck me out of Christ’s hand. Subdue the enemy, O Lord. Si- lence the accuser. Bruise Satan under my feet shortly.

“Hide me, O my Saviour, hide.

Till the storm of life is past.
Safe into the haven guide.

Oh receive my soul at last.
Other refuge have I none.”

Oh to enter eternity with one doubt on the mind! — O eternity — eternity — eternity! Oh what a thing sin is! Who knoweth the power of his wrath? If this be the way to heaven, what must be the way to hell? If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and sinner appear?’”

He mentioned the wonderful way in which his prayers for others had been answered, and seemed to derive some comfort from it. He rejected every attempt to comfort him by reminding him of the way in which he had served and glorified God. “Christ is all,” he said; “he is my only hope.” His wonderful knowledge of Scripture was a source of great comfort, and the exactness with which he repeated passage after passage was amazing. The manner in which also he connected one with another was admirable. His first clear consolation was after receiving the Lord’s Supper, of which an account has been given. He had previously observed, “An undue stress is by some laid on this ordinance as administered to the sick; and others, I think, are in danger of undervaluing it. It is a means of grace, and may prove God’s instrument of conveying to me the comfort I am seeking.” After he had partaken of this divine ordinance he said to his son-in-law, ‘’ It was beneficial to me; I received Christ and he received me. I feel a composure which I did not expect last night. I have not a triumphant assurance, but something which is more calm and satisfactory. I bless God for it.” And then he repeated, in the most emphatic manner, the twelfth chapter of Isaiah:

“‘O Lord, I will praise thee: though thou wast angry with me, etc. Oh to realize the fulness of joy! — oh to have done with temptation! ‘They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them nor any heat; for the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters, and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” They are come out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb; therefore are they before the throne of God.’ * We know not what we shall be, but we know that when he shall appear we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.” The righteous hath hope in his death;’ not driven away — no, no, not driven away!

“There is one feeling,” said he, “which I cannot have if I would. Those that oppose my doctrine have slandered me sadly, but I cannot feel any resentment. I can only love and pity them, and pray for their salvation. I never did feel any resentment against them. I only regret that I did not more ardently long and pray for the salvation of their souls. I feel most earnest in prayer for the promotion of Christ’s kingdom all over the earth. There are two causes in the world — the cause of God and the cause of the devil; the cause of our Lord Jesus Christ and the cause of the devil. The cause of God will prevail all over the world, among all kindreds and people and tongues. It shall fill the whole earth. ‘Hallowed be thy name, etc.”

Walking, after a short sleep, in great calmness, he said, “This is heaven begun; I have done with darkness for ever — -for ever. Satan is vanquished. Nothing now remains but salvation with eternal glory — ETERNAL GLORY.” But the conflict was not yet over, for another paroxysm came on with great violence; his sufferings were extreme and confusion and gloom prevailed. He cried earnestly to God, and said, “All my calm and comfort are gone; nothing remains of them but a faint recollection. Well, after all, God is greater than Satan. Is not Christ all-sufficient? Can he not save to the uttermost? Has he not promised to save? Lord, deliver me! suffer not Satan to prevail. Pity, pity. Lord, pity me!” But during all his severe sufferings of mind and body not a word of repining or murmuring ever escaped his lips. He said, with reference to his dying in this gloom,” I cannot help it. ‘Thou art righteous!

Father, glorify thy name.’” And then he repeated those affecting lines of Watts’ paraphrase of the fifty-first Psalm:

“And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.
Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,
Whose hope, still hovering round thy word,
Would light on some sweet promise there.
Some sure support against despair.”

To his wife he said, ‘’God be your Father and your husband. I trust all mine will be kind to you. You have been a great blessing to me. We shall, I trust, meet in heaven. I have less doubt of you than of myself.”

A message was received from the Rev. D. Wilson, his highly-esteemed friend, expressing among other things the great benefit he had been to the Church. “Now this,” said he, “is doing me harm. ‘God be merciful to me a sinner,’ is the only ground on which I can rest. If I am saved, God shall have all the glory.” Having talked too much, he was again distressed, but having obtained some rest, he awoke in the night and said to his youngest son, who sat up with him, “What is the world and the glory of it? I would not change my hope, lean and meagre as it is, for all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them., were I sure of living a thousand years longer to enjoy them.”

His daughter asked him on Sunday if she should stay from church and attend on him. “Oh no,” he replied; “nothing gives me pleasure but what is for your good and the thought that you pray for me.”

On Monday he said to the servant who attended him, “I thank you for all your kindness. You have been a faithful domestic, and I hope a conscientious one. If at any time I have been hasty and sharp, forgive me and pray to God to forgive, but lay the blame upon me, not on religion.” A similar address and request he made to his curate. Thus his feelings continued to alternate for several days, until death closed the scene. But whatever were his pains, his prayers were unceasing and most earnest. During the whole scene his patience, his kindness, his submission, his humility and his faith were most manifest.