tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67310451587860845182024-02-20T17:19:00.971-08:00Andrew FullerStephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16786453275962472466noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731045158786084518.post-15601337242380482342013-11-23T10:30:00.000-08:002013-11-23T10:49:52.253-08:00Section I. Historical Proof of the Doctinal Calvinism of the Church of England<h2 style="text-align: center;">
HISTORIC PROOF OF THE DOCTRINAL CALVINISM OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.</h2>
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SECTION I.</h3>
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Free-willers the first Separatists from the Church of England. — Character and Vindication of King Edward VI.</h4>
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TIME has been, when Arianism was more generally predominant throughout the Christian Church, than even Arminianism is at present, The whole world, says history, wondered, to see itself become Arian. It was Athanasius against all the world, and all the world against Athanasius.</div>
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Hardly were the clouds of Arianism dispersed when the Pelagian darkness overspread a considerable part of the ecclesiastical horizon; and its influence has continued, more or less, to obscure the glory of the Christian faith, from that period to this. Yet is the eclipse far from total. We have a multitude of names, even in our present Sardis, who defile not either their doctrinal or their moral garments; and there is very good reason to believe, that their number, in this kingdom, both among clergy and laity is continually increasing.</div>
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It is no novelty for the doctrines of grace to meet with opposition; and, indeed, few doctrines have been so much opposed as they. Swarms of fanatical sectarists were almost coeval with the Reformation itself. Such is the imperfect state of things below, that the most important advantages are connected with some inconveniences. The shining of truth like the shining of the sun, wakens insects into life, which, otherwise, would have no sensitive existence. Yet, better for a few insects to quicken, than for the sun not to shine.</div>
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I shall not here review the tares which<i> (sprang up with the Protestant corn in Germany);</i> but content myself with just observing, that there was one congregation of Free-willers in London, during the reign even of the pious king Edward VI. and notwithstanding the vigilance of our first Protestant bishops — I say, there was one congregation of Free-willers or, as they were then most usually called, Free-will-men: and it should seem, that there was then, in the metropolis, no more than one conventicle of this kind, held by such as made profession of Protestantism. For that valuable letter of recantation, preserved by the impartial Mr. Strype, and of which so large a part has been quoted in our Introduction, was inscribed<i> (as before observed)</i> with the following remarkable title: “A Letter to the Congregation of Free-willers.”</div>
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London, however, was not the only place in England where Pelagianism began to nestle, while good king Edward was on the throne. Some of the fraternity appeared likewise in two of the adjoining counties: viz. in Kent and Essex. Observe, I call the Free-willers of that age Pelagians; because the new name of Arminians was not then known. The appearance of Free-will-men in Kent and Essex is assigned by Strype to the <b>year 1550</b>, which was ten years before Arminius himself was born.</div>
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“Sectarists,” says the historian, “appeared now <i>(viz. </i><b><i>A.D. 1550</i></b><i>),</i> in Essex and Kent, sheltering themselves under the profession of the gospel. Of whom complaint was made to the Council, These <i>(i. e. these Free-willers)</i> were the first that made separation from the Church of England; having gathered congregations of their own;” viz. one in London, one at Feversham in Kent, and another at Booking in Essex. Besides which, they used to hold some petty bye-meetings, when a few of them could assemble with secrecy and safety.</div>
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Before we proceed, let me interpose a short remark. — So far is the Church of England from asserting the spiritual powers of free-will, and from denying predestination, that the deniers of predestination, and the assertors of free-will, were the very first persons who separated from her communion, and made a rent in her garments, by “gathering” three schismatical “congregations of their own.” Thus, the Free-willers were the original, and are to this day some of the most real and essential dissenters from the evangelical establishment.</div>
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I now return to the historian, who thus goes on: “The congregation in Essex was mentioned to be at Bocking; that in Kent was at Feversham, as I learn from an old register.</div>
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<span class="s1">[[@Page:60]]</span> From whence <i>(i. e. from which same old register)</i> I collect, that they held the opinions so far as free-will and predestination are concerned) of the Anabaptists and Pelagians.” </div>
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These Free-willers were, it seems, looked upon in so dangerous a view by the Church of England, that they were complained of to the Privy Council; and, for the more peaceful security of the reformed establishment, their names and tenets were authentically registered and enrolled.</div>
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Mr. Strype, after giving us the names of fifteen of them, adds as follows: “Their teachers and divers of them were taken up, and found sureties for their appearance; and at length brought into the Ecclesiastical Court, where they were examined in forty-six articles, or more.” Were <i>(which God forbid)</i> all Freewill-men to suffer equal molestation in the present age; were all Anti-predestinarians to be “taken up,” “registered,” “find sureties for their appearance,” and at length be “examined in the Ecclesiastical Court;” what work would it make for constables, stationers, notaries, and bishops’ officers!</div>
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But to resume the thread. “Many of those, before named, being disposed <i>(i. e. put to their oath)</i> upon the said articles, confessed these to be some sayings and tenets among them:</div>
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“That the doctrine of predestination was meeter for devils than for Christian men.</div>
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“That children were not born in original sin.” That no man was so chosen, but he might damn himself; neither any man so reprobate, but he might keep God’s commandments, and be saved.</div>
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“That St. Paul might have damned himself if he listed.</div>
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“That learned men were the cause of great errors.</div>
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“That God’s predestination was not certain, but upon condition.</div>
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“That to play at any manner of game for money is sin, and a work of the flesh.</div>
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“That lust after evil was not sin, if the act were not committed. That there were no reprobates. And,</div>
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“That the preaching of predestination is a damnable thing.” </div>
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So much for these Free-willers, who were the first Separatists from the Church of England; and whose tenets Mr. Strype <i>(though not a Calvinist himself)</i> justly allows to be Anabaptistical and Pelagian. How exactly do the doctrines of Wesley and Sellon, on the points of election, reprobation, and free-agency, chime in with the hot and muddy ideas of their Pelagian forefathers! I cannot help indulging a very suitable speculation. What a delicious pastor would Mr. Sellon in particular have made to the Free-willers of Bucking, or Feversham, had the æra of his nativity commenced about 200 years sooner! He would have fed them, not, indeed, with knowledge and understanding, but, after their own hearts.</div>
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His lack of learning, his being “an exotic without academical education,” would have been no impediment to that piece of promotion: nay, the flock would have liked him the better for it; seeing in their estimation, “learned men are the cause of great errors.” The spirit of which maxim, aided by his blasphemies against predestination, would have made him <i>(next to Free-will itself)</i> the very idol of the sect. </div>
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<i>O tibi prae@terites referal si Jupiter annes!</i></div>
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Instead of being, as now, Mr. John Wesley’s pack-horse, you might have sat-up for yourself; and, as a reward for your meritorious denial of election, been elected Tub Orator to the Pelagians of Feversham, or Bocking.</div>
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From such samples, as history has recorded, of the vigour <i>(not to say the rigour),</i> with which Free-will men were proceeded against, in the days of Edward VI., under whom the reformation of the Church was accomplished, it necessarily and unanswerably follows, that the Church herself was reformed from Popery to Calvinism, and held those predestinarian doctrines, which she punished <i>(or, more properly, persecuted)</i> the Pelagians for denying.</div>
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The persons who bore the main sway in Church and State at the time last referred to, were the King, the duke of Somerset, and arch-bishop Cranmer. Over and above the matters of fact, in which that illustrious triumvirate were concerned, and which neither would nor could have been directed into such a channel, had not those personages been Doctrinal Calvinists; there are also incontestable written evidences, to prove that they were, conscientiously and upon inward principle, firm believers of the Calvinistic doctrines. This shall he proved of Cranmer, in its proper place, when I come to treat of the Reformers. The same will sufficiently appear, as to Somerset, under the Section which is to treat of the influence which Calvin had on the English Reformation. The epistolary intimacy, which subsisted between Calvin and Somerset; the high veneration in which that foreign reformer was held by the latter; and the readiness with which the first Liturgy was altered, in consequence of the same reformer’s application; plainly demonstrate that the duke of Somerset, no less than his royal nephew king Edward, and good archbishop Cranmer, had <i>(happily for the Church)</i> heartily adopted Calvin’s doctrine, though <i>(no less happily) </i>not proselyted to Calvin’s favourite form of ecclesiastical regimen. To these considerations let me add another, drawn from that most excellent prayer, written by himself, upon his being declared Protector of the Realm and governor of the King’s person during his majesty’s Minority It is entitled, “The Lord Protector’s Prayer for God’s Assistance in the high Office of protector and Governor, new committed to him.” </div>
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<span class="s1">[[@Page:61]]</span> A man of the Duke’s extraordinary piety can never be thought to trifle with God, and to prevaricate on his knees. The prayer itself, therefore, proves him to have been a Calvinist. Part of it runs thus: “Lord God of hosts, in whose only hand is life and death, victory and confusion, rule and subjection; I am the price of thy Son’s death; for thy Son’s sake thou wilt not less <i>(i. e. lose) </i>me. I am a vessel for thy mercy; thy justice will not condemn me. I am recorded in the book of life; I am written with the very blood of Jesus; thy inestimable love will not then cancel my name: for this cause, Lord God, I am bold to speak to thy Majesty: thou, Lord, by thy providence, hast called me to rule; make me therefore able to follow thy calling: thou, Lord, by thine order, hast committed an anointed King to my governance; direct me therefore with thine hand, that I err not from thy good pleasure: finish in me, Lord, thy beginning; and begin in me that thou wilt finish.” When this illustrious peer fell, afterwards, a sacrifice to the machinations and state intrigues of Warwick <i>(who, himself, within a short time, paid dearly for his insidiousness and ambition,)</i> Somerset, during his imprisonment in the Tower, and a little before his death, “translated, out of French into English, an epistle wrote to him by John Calvin <i>(on the subject),</i> of Godly Conversation, which he received while under his confinement, and was printed at London.” </div>
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As to the Calvinism of king Edward himself, every religious transaction of his reign sets it beyond a doubt. The reformation of the Church upon the principles she still professes, might suffice to comprehend all proofs in one: but this excellent prince was not content to establish the Church of England; he himself voluntarily and solemnly subscribed her Articles. “A book, containing these Articles, was signed by the. King’s own hand.” And Edward was too sincere a Christian, to sign what he did not believe; a species of prevarication reserved for the more accomplished iniquity of after-times; and which bids fair to end in the utter extirpation of all religion from amongst us.</div>
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Neither would king Edward have honoured what is commonly called Ponet’s Catechism <i>(of which, more hereafter) </i>with his own prefixed letters of recommendation, had his Majesty not been a thorough Calvinist: nor would he, just before the agonies of death came upon him, have set his seal, as he did, to the doctrine of election, had not that doctrine been an essential and predominant article of his faith. “Lord God <i>(said the royal saint, a little before he expired),</i> deliver me out of this miserable and wretched life, and take me among thy chosen.” </div>
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I unwillingly descend from one of the most wonderful and valuable princes that ever adorned a throne, to the meanest and most rancorous Arminian priest that ever disgraced a surplice. How extreme, how immense the transition, from king Edward VI., to Mr. Walter Sellon! But I must let the reader see, in what way this factor for Methodism pretends to account for the Calvinistic measures of king vessel for thy mercy; thy justice will not con- Edward’s administration. Even thus: “Some rigid Calvinists in power had imposed upon that good young King, and made use of his authority to impose their notions upon the Church<i> (Sell. p. 53)</i>.” A certain sort of people stand in particular need of good memories. Mr. Sellon’s forsakes him in the very next page; where the “some rigid Calvinists” are dwindled into one. “Up starts rigid Ponet, and get a poor young king Edward, whom he had brought to his lure, to command all schoolmasters within his dominions to teach the youth this catechism <i>(Ibid. p. 54)</i>.” What is this, but calling “poor young king Edward” a poor young fool? An insinuation as false and unjust to the real character of that extraordinary prince, as I should be guilty of, were I to insinuate that Mr. Sellon is a man of sense, learning, and good manners. But sup- posing we should, for a moment, admit <i>(contrary to all fact and truth),</i> that the “poor young King” was indeed a flexible piece of tape, which Ponet, bishop of Winchester, could easily twist round his finger at pleasure; yet, can it be imagined, that Ponet was an absolute monopoliser of the tape royal? Was he the only haberdasher who made property of the said tape? Could not a soul beside come in for a yard or two? Where <i>(for instance) </i>were Cranmer, and Ridley, and Hooper, and Latimer? Was it possible, that a transaction of such consequence to the Church of England, as the public sanction of Ponet’s Catechism, could take effect, without the participation and concurrence of the other English bishops, and of the Convocation, and of the King’s Council itself? Every reasonable man will say no: besides, however liable to imposition “poor young king” Edward may be represented, by the Arminians of the present age, yet, surely, his Majesty’s next successor but one <i>(under whom that same Catechism was revived, and published with enlargements, by Dr. Nowell, dean of London)</i> cannot be thought to have been very soft and pliable: but, I dare say, Mr. Sellon, by way of answer to this remark, will content himself with crying out, poor young queen Elizabeth!</div>
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King Edward was by no means that ductile, undiscerning prince, for which Mr. Sellon’s cause requires him to pass. As this defamer, under the impulse of his inspirer, Mr. Wesley, has thought proper to fasten this obliquity on that King’s memory, I shall give a short summary of his character, drawn by the best authorities; and the rather, as Edward’s <span class="s1">[[@Page:62]]</span> reputation is very closely interwoven with the credit of the Church of England, which chiefly owes her present purity and excellence to the pious and paternal authority of that young, but most respectable Josiah.</div>
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Bishop Latimer had the honour to know him well; and no man was ever less prone to flatter, than that honest, unpolished prelate. “Blessed <i>(said he)</i> is the land, where there is a noble king; where kings be no banqueters, no players, and where they spend not their time in hunting and hawking. And when had the King’s majesty a Council, that took more pains, both night and day, for the setting forth of God’s word, and profit of the common-wealth? And yet there be some wicked people that will say <i>(and there are still some wicked Pelagians who continue to say),</i> Tush, this gear will not tarry; it is but my Lord Protector’s and my Lord of Canterbury’s doing: the King is a child, and he knoweth not of it. Jesu, have mercy! how like are we Englishmen to the Jews, ever stubborn, stiff-necked, and walking in by-ways! Have not we a noble King? Was there ever king so noble, so godly brought up, with so noble Counsellors, so excellent and well-learned schoolmasters? I will tell you this, and speak it even as I think; his Majesty hath more godly wit and understanding, more learning and knowledge, at this age, than twenty of his progenitors, that I could name, had at any time of their life.” </div>
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Bishop John Bale, the Antiquarian, could also speak of the King upon personal knowledge; and his testimony is this: “He is abundantly replenished with the most gracious gifts of God; especially, with all kinds of good learning, far above all his progenitors, kings of this imperial region. The childhood of youth is not in him to he reproved; for so might king Josiah have been reproved, who began his reign in the eighth year of his age.” The occasion of Bale thus vindicating king Edward, was the petulance of one whom he styles “a frantic Papist of Hampshire,” who had insolently termed his Majesty, “a poor child:” which was much the same with Mr Sellon’s contemptuous language of, “poor young king Edward.” Mr. Strype, to whom I am indebted for the above quotation from Bale, goes on: “Then he <i>(i. e. Bale)</i> comes closer to this papist, so blasphemously reporting the noble and worthy king Edward, then in the fifteenth year of his age, and the fifth of his reign.” Bale added, “His <i>(Majesty’s)</i> worthy education in liberal letters, and godly virtues, and his natural aptness in retaining of the same, plenteously declared him to be no poor child, but a manifest Solomon in princely wisdom.” </div>
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Even bishop Burnet offers the following chaplet at Edward’s tomb: “Thus died king Edward VI. that incomparable young prince. He was then in the sixteenth year of his age, and was counted the wonder of that time, he was not only learned in the tongues, and other liberal sciences, but knew well the state of his kingdom. He kept a book, in which he writ the characters that were given him of all the chief men of the nation, all the judges, lord- lieutenants, and justices of the peace, over England; in it he had marked down their way of living, and their zeal for religion. He had studied the matter of the Mint, with the exchange and value of money, so that he understood it well, as appears by his journal. He also understood fortification, and designed well. He knew all the harbours and ports, both of his own dominions, and of France and Scotland; and how much water they had, and what was the way of coming into them. He had acquired great knowledge in foreign affairs, so that he talked with the ambassadors about them, in such a manner, that they <i>(viz. the foreign ambassadors)</i> filled all the world with the highest opinion of him that was possible; which appears in most of the histories of that age. He had great quickness and apprehension; and, being mistrustful of his memory, used to take notes of almost everything he heard. He writ these, first, in Greek characters, that those about him might not understand them: and, afterwards, writ them out in his journal. He had a copy brought him of everything that passed in Council: which he put in a chest, and kept the key of that always himself. In a word, the natural and acquired perfections of his mind were wonderful. But his virtues and true piety were yet more extraordinary.” </div>
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Mountagu, bishop of Winchester, in his Preface to the works of king James I., makes very observable mention of Edward, considered even as a writer. “Edward the Sixth, though his dayes were so short, as he could not give full proofe of those singular parts that were in him; yet he wrote divers epistles and orations, both in Greek and Latin. He wrote a treatise de fide, to the duke of Somerset He wrote an history of his owne time. Which are all yet extant, under his owne hand, in the King’s library, as Mr. Patrick Young, his Majestie’s learned Bibliothecarius, hath shewed me. And, which is not to been forgotten, so diligent an hearer of sermons was that sweet prince, that the notes, of the most of the sermons he heard, are yet to be seene, under his own hand; with the preacher’s name, the time, and the place, and all other circumstances.” </div>
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It were endless, to adduce the praises which have been deservedly accumulated on this most able and most amiable Monarch. But I must not overpass the character given of him by {63} Jerom Cardan, the famous Italian physician, who, the year preceding king Edward’s death, spent some months in England. That foreigner, amidst all his acknowledged oddities, was still a person of very extraordinary genius and learning; so that his ability, to judge of the King’s capacity and attainments, is indisputable. And the consideration of his being also a Papist, will not suffer us to suppose, that his encomiums have any mixture of party prejudice in this prince’s favour. Moreover, Cardan wrote and published his testimony in a country, and at a time, which rendered it impossible for him to have any sinister interest in view. “All the Graces.” says he “were apparent in king Edward, and, for the tongues, he was not only exact in the English, French, and Latin; but understood the Greek, Italian, and Spanish. Nor was he ignorant of Logic, the principles of Natural Philosophy, or Music: being apt to learn everything. The sweetness of his temper was such as became a mortal; his gravity becoming the majesty of a King; and his disposition suitable to his high degree. In short, that child was so bred, had such parts, and was of such expectation, that he looked like a miracle of a man. These things are not spoken rhetorically, and beyond the truth; but are indeed short of it. He began to love the liberal arts, before he knew them; to know them, before he could use them. And in him there was such an effort of nature, that not only England, but the world, has reason to lament his being so early snatched away. How truly was it said, of such extraordinary persons, that their lives are short! He gave us an essay of virtue, though he did not live to give us a pattern of it. When the gravity of a king was needful, he carried himself like a man in years: and yet was always affable and gentle, as became his youth. In bounty he appear to have been bad; but there was no ground for suspecting any such thing in the son, whose mind was cultivated by the study of Philosophy.” </div>
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Mr. Guthrie’s character of him is far from being excessive. The outlines of Edward’s portrait, as drawn by the masterly hand of that able Historian, shall terminate our present review of this great prince. “Henry VIII. was the Romulus, and Edward VI. the <i>Numa Pompilius</i>, of English Reformation. The former laid its foundation in blood and rapine; the latter reared its fabric, by justice and moderation. Learning is the most trifling part of Edward’s character. The rod may make a scholar; but nature must form a genius. Edward had genius. His learning, indeed, was extraordinary; but in that he was equalled, if not excelled, by others of equal years, and of a different sex. Perhaps his sister Elizabeth, and his designed successor, the lady Jane Gray, at his age, knew the languages better than he did. But Edward discovered a genius for government, beyond what, perhaps, ever was known in so early a bloom of life. He soon fell in with those walks of knowledge which lead to the glory and happiness both of prince and people. He understood the principles of trade, and the true maxims which the English ought to pursue with foreign countries, too much greater perfection than any author who wrote at that time on those subjects. The papers which remain in his writing, concerning a mart, and the reformation of abuses, might be suspected not to be of his composition, did we know of any person in those days, who could write so clearly and intelligibly, and, by consequence, so elegantly. His Journal contains, so far as it goes, an account of all the important trans- actions falling within it; penned in such a manner, as amply proves its author to have known the bottom of every subject he touches. His perpetual attention to commerce gave him, towards the end of his reign, a true notion of that conduct, which England ought to pursue, in those disputes upon the Continent, which endanger the balance of power there. It helped him to form great schemes for the improvement of his maritime force, for the security of his coasts, for the protection of his ships; and, in his project of opening free marts in England, there is somewhat that points towards introducing a new and better system of mercantile affairs, than has yet, perhaps, been pursued. He acquired a taste for elegant magnificence; and, in this, he seems to have been single in his Court. His appearances, on public occasions, were sometimes, perhaps too Eastern: but he seems to have corrected this extravagance, by striking off a great deal of useless expanse. Had Providence been so well reconciled to England, as to have indulged Edward in a longer reign, he had private virtue sufficient to have brought private virtue once more into reputation: while his judgment was so strong, as, at once, to reanimate, and employ the public spirit of his people. The application of this royal youth laid the corner-stones on which the commerce of England is founded, and which alone gives her the rank of a Queen her religion from superstition; it was his good sense, getting the better of his prejudices, that <span class="s1">[[@Page:64]]</span> saved her possessions from ruin, and rescued her Clergy from contempt. It was his example, which fired the young nobility and gentry of his own years, with that generous emulation, which pushed them into every glorious pursuit, when their manly qualities, in a following reign <i>(viz. in the reign of Elizabeth)</i>, raised their drooping country to glory and to empire. It is owing to Edward’s compassion, that, at this day, in England’s capital, the helpless orphan finds a father; that erring youth are provided with instruction; and that Heaven receives the sounds of praise and gratitude from the mouth of the infant. His wisdom prepared a check for the intemperate, and correction for the idle. His cares make grey hairs go down, without sorrow, to the grave. His bounty embellishes those places, which his charity endowed. And his own person was the habitation where love and learning, the graces and the virtues, delighted to dwell.” </div>
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Let me just add, that whosoever has read king Edward’s Treatise against the Supremacy of the Bishops of Rome <i>(published at London, in 1682),</i> will cease to be surprised at that admiration, with which the English historians celebrate the parts and piety of the royal author. The merits of that performance, in particular, are so transcendent, that a most ingenious acquaintance of mine once doubted, whether it was possible for so young a prince to be the composer of so learned and masterly a work. But my friend <i>(eminent for possessing one of the finest collections of natural and artificial curiosities that ever fell to the lot of a private person)</i> has been so happy as to add to his treasures the original manuscript, in Edward’s own hand writing; which places the authenticity of the book above dispute.</div>
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Judge now, whether Edward, thus endued with the whole circle of princely qualifications. Could be that weak, supple, facile, waxen image of a king, which Mr. Wesley’s malice and Mr. Sellon’s ignorance combine to represent. In trying at which, they not only violate all historic truth, but labour also to blacken the Church of England; by defaming the Protestant Monarch who was, under God, its father and visible head: a monarch, who, like Alfred, was born for the good of mankind; and the lustre of whose crown was eclipsed by the virtues of him that wore it. King Edward’s being a Calvinist is the unpardonable crime for which Arminian Methodism seeks to lay his memory in the dust. Under him it was that the English Liturgy was compiled, reformed, and perfected; the Homilies composed; the Articles of Religion framed; and Ponet’s Catechism drawn up: which two latter, viz. the Articles and the said Catechism, “were in general received and subscribed to all over the kingdom.” These were the crimes of Edward and his reforming bishops, for which, Peter Heylin, John Wesley, and Walter Sellon, labour to heap odium on the best of princes and the best of prelates.</div>
Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16786453275962472466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731045158786084518.post-39156358600352667762013-11-23T09:58:00.000-08:002013-11-23T10:49:16.798-08:00Historic Proof of the Doctrinal Calvinism of the Church of England -- Introduction<h2>
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<b>HISTORIC PROOF OF THE DOCTRINAL CALVINISM OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND.</b></div>
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ADVERTISEMENT.</h3>
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FOR prevention of mistake, I request leave to apprize the reader,</div>
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1. That in the following Essay I use the words CALVINISM and CALVINIST merely in compliance with custom. The doctrinal system, established in England, which LUTHER and CALVIN were the honoured instruments of retrieving, subsisted, from the beginning, in the faith of God’s elect people, and in the sacred Scriptures. But, “Dandum aliqud consuetudini.”</div>
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2. I use the terms PELAGIANISM and ARMINIANISM in their literal and proper signification, as denoting the system originally fabricated by PELAGIUS, and afterwards rebuilt by ARMINIUS. Though, in strictness of speech, that system should rather be denominated, MORGANISM and VAN HARMINISM; the real name of Pelagius having been MORGAN, as that of Arminius was VAN HARMIN.</div>
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3. By the word METHODISTS, which likewise frequently occurs, I mean the approvers, followers, and abettors of Mr. JOHN WESLEY’S principles and practices, and them only. If some folks, either through want of knowledge, or want of candour, apply the name of METHODIST to such as agree in all points with the Church of England, it cannot be helped; nor have I the least objection to being involved under that title, in this sense of it: but I myself never use the term, except in the meaning above defined.</div>
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4. Mention is often made of the ANABAPTISTS, and of their theological enormities. Be it, therefore, observed, that the Anabaptists of the sixteenth century were a very different sort of people from the Baptists of the last century, and of the current; consequently, what is observed of the former, does by no means affect the latter.</div>
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5. I foresee one objection, in particular, to which the ensuing work is liable: viz. that the two PELAGIAN METHODISTS, namely, Mr. JOHN WESLEY and Mr. WALTER SELLON, whose fraudulent perversions of truth, facts, and common sense, gave the first occasion to the present undertaking, “are not persons of sufficient consequence to merit so large and explicit a refutation.” I acknowledge the propriety and the force of this remark. It cannot be denied, that the Church of England has seldom, if ever <i>(at least since the Civil Wars),</i> been arraigned, tried, and condemned, by a pair of such insignificant adversaries. Yet, though the men themselves are of no importance, the Church and her doctrine are of much. Which consideration has we get enough with me, not only to warrant the design and extent of the following vindication, but also to justify any future attempts of the same kind, which the continued perverseness of the said discomfited METHODISTS may render needful. I mean, in case the united labours of that unto should be able to squeeze forth anything which may carry a face of argument. For, otherwise, I have some thoughts of consigning them to the peaceable enjoyment of that contempt and neglect due to their malice and incapacity. Lord Bolingbroke somewhere observes, that “To have the last word is the privilege of had writers:” a privilege which I shall never envy them.</div>
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Mr. WESLEY and his subalterns are, in general, so excessively scurrilous and abusive, that contending with them resembles fighting with chimney-sweepers, or bathing in a mud-pool. So they can but raise a temporary mist before the eyes of their deluded adherents, they care not what they invent, nor whereof they affirm.</div>
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6. Let it not, however, be supposed, hat I bear them the least degree of personal hatred; God forbid; I have not so learned Christ. The very men, who have my opposition, have m y prayers also. I dare address the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls in those lines of the late Dr. Doddridge: </div>
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<i><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Hast thou a lamb, in all thy flock, </i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>I would disdain to feed?</i></div>
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But I likewise wish ever to add, </div>
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<i><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Hast thou a foe, before whose face</i></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>I fear thy cause to plead?</i></div>
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Grace, mercy, and peace, be to all who love, and who desire to love, our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity.</div>
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INTRODUCTION.</h3>
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BEFORE I enter on the principal design of the present undertaking, it may be proper to throw together some preliminary observations, by way of Preface, that the main thread of our historic enquiry may, afterwards, proceed the more evenly and uninterruptedly.</div>
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In <b>February 1769,</b> I published a pamphlet, entitled, “The Church of England vindicated from the Charge of Arminianism, and the Case of Arminian Subscription particularly considered:” which I addressed to a learned and respectable Oxonian, who had lately presented us with an apology for the Arminian principles; and whose arguments against the real doctrines of our Established Church my counter vindication was designed to obviate.</div>
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That Omniscient Being, to whom “all hearts are open,” knows, that a feeling regard to his glory, and a tender solicitude for the honour of truth, were my sole determining motives to that [[@Page:47]] humble attempt. I could sincerely adopt the appeal of archbishop Bradwardin, who wrote on a similar occasion, and in defence of the same doctrines: <i>Scis, quòd nusquam virtute meii, sed tuâ confisus, tantillus aggredior tantam causam</i>. Far, exceeding far, from presuming on any imaginary abilities of my own, and equally remote from wishing to distinguish myself on the stage of public observation, I resolved to conceal my name; though I could not resolve, by continuing entirely silent, to forego my allegiance to God, and my duty to the church.</div>
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His controversy had, indeed, been recently in the hands of a person whose zeal for the principles of the Reformation adds dignity to his rank and lustre to his talents; I mean the able and learned author of Pietas Oænienisis: and I freely confess, that I was under some doubt, whether it might not carry an implication of self-confidence, should I glean up, and lay before the public, a few of those authentic facts and testimonies, the mention of which had, for the most part, been omitted by that masterly writer. Considering, however, that, of old, even those persons who had but a mite to throw into the treasury, were not therefore wholly exempted from the duty of contribution; I fluctuated no longer; hut hastily threw together such observations as then occurred, and in a few weeks transmitted them to the printer. I have much reason to bless God for their publication. That tract, hurried and unfinished as it was, met with a reception, which, in such an age as the present, I could neither expect nor imagine.</div>
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Upwards of two years after, i. e. in the summer of 1771, a Mr. Walter Sellon <i>(who stands in the same relation to Mr. John Wesley, that Celestius did to Pelagius, and Bertius to Arminius; viz. of retainer-general and white-washer in ordinary) </i>hands a production into the world, designed to prove that Arminianism and the Church of England are as closely connected as the said Messieurs Walter and John are with each each other. The piece itself is the joint offspring of the two associated heroes. As, therefore, in its fabrication, those gentlemen were united, even so, in its confutation, they shall not be parted.</div>
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Arminianism is their mutual Dulcinea del Toboso. And, contrary to what is usually observed among co-enamoratos, their attention to the same favourite object creates no jealousy, no uneasiness of rivalship, between themselves. High mounted on Pine’s Kosinante, forth sallies Mr. John from Wine-street, Bristol, brandishing his reed, and vowing vengeance against all who will not fall down and worship the Dutch image which he has set up. With almost an equal plenitude of zeal and prowess, forth trots Mr Walter from Ave-maria-lane, low mounted on Cabe’s halting dapple. The knight and the squire having met at the rendezvous appointed, the former prances foremost, and, with as much haste as his limping steed will permit, doth trusty Walter amble after his master. </div>
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How successful these combatants are, in their attack on my first defence of the Doctrinal Calvinism of the Church of England, I cheerfully leave to the decision of the Public. This, however, I may venture to say, that, after a tedious incubation of six-and-twenty months, they ought to have hatched an answer that might carry some show, at least, of plausible argument. But even craft itself seems, in the main, to have discharged them from her service. Here is neither subtlety, nor solidity. I am, in fact, going to encounter a phantom. No laurels, therefore, will crown the conquest; and the poor phantom should, for me, have stalked unmolested, had not the importance of the subject retrieved, in some measure, the insignificancy of the performance.</div>
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One of them <i>(for it is not always easy to distinguish the immediate speaker)</i> charges me with “crying up the abilities of some against whom I have written, only that I myself may appear to have greater abilities of my own, in vanquishing such able antagonists.” Malice has here forged an accusation too ignoble even for malice to believe. The brace of brothers are, indeed, either too blind-to see, or too disingenuous to acknowledge, the excellencies of any from whom they dissent; else they would never have termed those great reformers, Luther and Calvin, a pair of “weather-cocks;” nor have contemptuously styled St. Austin the “giddy apostle of the Calvinist.” For my own part, I acknowledge, with pleasure, the eminent talents of very many worthy persons, from whom I differ extremely in opinion. Mr. Sellon, however, may make himself easy as to this particular. Unless he should improve miraculously, I shall never cry up his abilities. I must want common sense, to suppose him a man of parts; and I must want common modesty, to represent him as such. I can distinguish a barber’s basin from a helmet; of course, all the fruit to be reaped from the contest now depending, is, not an ovation for myself, but the acquisition of a tributary pepper-corn to the doctrines of the Church.</div>
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Mr. Wesley should have laid the burden of his alliance on other shoulders than those of Mr. Sellon. The lot could not possibly have fallen on a more incompetent man. He is much too unknowing, and too hot, to come off with any degree of credit, in an engagement which has foiled so many of the wise and prudent. He should have remembered the example of Dr. Waterland and others.</div>
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As the Church is now internally constituted, her Calvinism is impregnable; while she lives, this is immortal. The legislature have it, indeed, in their power <i>(God forbid they should ever have the inclination!)</i> to melt down her Liturgy, Homilies, and Articles; and, when her component particles are severed by state chemistry, to cast her into the Arminian mould: but, until this is really done, all the artifice of man will never be able to fix the banner of Arminius in the citadel, how daringly soever some of his disciples may display it on the walls. Our pulpits may declare for freewill; but the desk, our prayers, and the whole of our standard writings as a Church, breathe only the doctrines of grace. </div>
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[[@Page:48]] Several respectable men have reduced themselves to a state of pitiable embarrassment, in attempting to disprove this, during, and since, what has been properly enough denominated, the ecclesiastical reign of archbishop Laud. Had that prelate been a Calvinist, and had the Calvinists of that age joined hands with the enemies to civil and religious liberty, the Calvinism of the Church of England would, probably, have passed uncontested to the present hour: but that prelate attached himself to the new system <i>(and it was then very new indeed) </i>of Arminius; and, which weighed still more against them in the Court balance, the Calvinists were friends to the civil rights of mankind; they <i>(observe, I speak only of the doctrinal, not of the disciplinarian Calvinists) </i>were steady to the true religious and political constitution of their country. They opposed, with equal firmness, Laud’s innovations in the Church, and Charles’s invasions of civil freedom. Unhappily both for the nation and the Church, and no less fatally for himself, Charles, nurtured in despotism, deemed it his interest to support the Armenians, for purposes of state. I shall have occasion, in the progress of the ensuing Essay, to trace this evil to its source. In the meanwhile, I return to Mr. Wesley and his under-strapper; whom though I shall not constantly persist to mention together, bat hold them up to view, sometimes singly, sometimes conjointly, as just occasion may require; the intelligent reader will not fail to notice, that every exhibition of Mr. John involves his man Walter; and that Walter cannot be exhibited without involving Mr. John.</div>
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Monsieur Bayle has an observation, perfectly applicable to the two furiosos above-mentioned; had the cap been made for them, it could not have fitted them more exactly. “In hot constitutions,” says that able critic, “Zeal is a sort of drunkenness, which so disorders the mind, that a man sees everything double and the wrong way. The Priestess of Bacchus, who fell upon her own son, whom she mistook for a wild boar, is an image of that giddiness which seizes the zealots.” I am very far from peremptorily affirming, that Mr. Sellon is as intimately connected with Bacchus, as was the above Priestess; but his conduct certainly bears a strong resemblance of hers. He pretends, that the Church of England is his mother; now, his supposed mother is an avowed, thorough-paced Calvinist; but Mr. Sellon abominates Calvinism, and yet wishes to be thought a churchman. What can he do in so distressful a dilemma? Necessity dictates an expedient. Amidst some qualifying professions of filial respect, this petty Nimrod bends his twelve-penny bow against her he calls his mother; and pretends, all the while, that he is only combating a wild beast, which has chanced to find its way from Geneva to England.</div>
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But the Church, and the truths of God, have nothing to fear from the efforts of this ejaculator. Parthians might aim their arrows at the sun; wolves may exhaust their strength by howling at the moon; yet, neither the weapons of those could wound the one, nor can the clamour of these so much as alarm the other. The sun persists to shine, and the moon to roll, unextinguished and unimpeded by the impotence of rage, and the emptiness of menace from below.</div>
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I have heard, or read, of a picture, which exhibited a view of the apostate angels, just fallen from their state of blessedness. Every attitude and feature were expressive of the extremest horror, indignation, and despair. An artist, into whose possession it came, by only a few touches with his pencil, transformed the shocking representation into a master-piece of loveliness and beauty; so that seraphs seemed to smile and sing, where tormented fiends appeared before to blaspheme for rage and to gnaw their tongues for pain. Mr. Sellon has pursued a plan directly contrary to that of the amiable artist. The Methodist’s grand business <i>(in which, however, he utterly fails) </i>is, to deform the gospel picture, and to disfigure the beauty of the Church. He labours to metamorphose, if it were possible, the wisdom and glory of God into a caricature equally frightful and ridicules: but all his cavils are infra jugular; they come not up to the point. Mr. Wesley and his auxiliaries resemble the army of Mithridates, who lost the day, by mistakenly aiming their arrows, not at the persons, but at the shadows, of the Roman soldiers.</div>
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Supposing the principles of the Church of England to be ever so exceptionable in themselves, the mode of assault, adopted by the mock vindicators, is by no means calculated to gain its end. The far greater part of mankind can readily distinguish fury from zeal, and abuse from argument. A writer, like Mr. Sellon, who dips his pen in the common-sewer, injures and disgraces the cause he seeks to advance. “The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.” It is so far from being a part, that it is the very reverse, of that righteousness which the example of God prescribes, and his written will enjoins.</div>
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I am charged with violating the meekness I recommend, and with being no less than “a persecutor” of the Arminians. <i> </i>Aggressors are often the first to complain. When Mr Wesley thinks proper to scatter his firebrands, “zeal for the Lord of hosts,” and “earnest contention for the faith delivered to the saints,” are the varnish which his abusive rage assumes: but if no more than a finger be lifted up in self-defence, the cry is, “Oh, you are without gospel love; you are a persecutor of Mr. John; you will not let the good old man descend quietly to his grave.”</div>
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As to intolerancy and persecution, I have already declared this to be my steadfast opinion, that “the rights of conscience are inviolably sacred, and that liberty of private judgment is every man’s birthright:” yet Mr. Wesley cannot fully avail himself of this concession; for, by having solemnly set his hand to the Articles, Homilies, and Liturgy of the Established Church, he comes within the exception immediately added, and which I here repeat: “If, however, any like Esau have sold their birthright, by subscribing to Articles they do not believe, merely for the sake of temporal profit or aggrandisement, they have only themselves to thank, for the little ceremony they are entitled to.” </div>
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It is not necessary to he timid in order to be meek. There is a false meekness, as well as a [[@Page:49]] raise charity. Genuine charity, according to the Apostle’s description of it, rejoiceth in the truth. The conduct of our Lord himself, and of the first disciples, on various occasions, demonstrated, that it is no part of Christian candour, to hew millstones with a feather. Rebuke them sharply <i>(</i><span class="s2">ἀποτόμως</span><i>, cuttingly,)</i> says the Apostle, concerning the depravers of doctrinal Christianity; wish well to their persons, hut give no quarter to their errors. The world have long seen, that unmixed politeness, condescending generosity, and the most conciliating benevolence, can no more soften Mr. Wesley’s rugged rudeness, than the melody of David’s harp could lay the North wind, or still the raging of the sea. Mr. Hervey in his famous Eleven Letters, has handled Mr. Wesley with all the delicacy and tenderness that a virtuoso would shew in catching a butterfly, whose plumage he wishes to preserve uninjured; or a lady, in wiping a piece of china, which she dreads to break. Did Mr. Wesley profit by the engaging meekness of his amiable and elegant refuter? nay, but he waxed worse and worse: like Saul, he strove to stab the name of that inestimable friend, whose gospel music was calculated to dispossess him of his evil spirit. Like the animal, stigmatised in the [[lviii<span class="s3"><sup>th</sup></span> Psalm>>Ps. 58]], he stopped his ears, and refused to hear the voice of the charmer, though the strains were no less sweet than wise. Every artifice that could be invented has been thrown out, to blacken the memory of the most exemplary man this age has produced. Mr. Wesley insulted him, when living, and continues to trample on him, though dead. He digs him, as it were, out of his grave, passes sentence on him as an heretic, ties him to the stake, burns him to ashes, and scatters those ashes to the four winds. Rather than fail, the wretched Mr. Walter Sellon is stilted to oppose the excellent Mr. Hervey; and most egregiously hath the living sinner acquitted himself against the long-departed saint! In much the same spirit, and with just the same success, as the enemy of mankind contended with Michael the arch-angel, about the body of Moses.</div>
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Every Reader may not, perhaps, know the true cause <i>(at least, one of the principal causes)</i> of Mr. Wesley’s unrelenting enmity to Mr. Hervey; an enmity, which even the death of the latter has not yet extinguished. When that valuable man was writing his Theron and Aspasio, his humility and self-diffidence were so great, that he condescended to solicit many of his friends to revise and correct that admirable work, antecedently to its publication. He occasionally requested this favour even of some who were enemies to several of the doctrines asserted in the Dialogues; among whom was Mr. John Wesley. The author imagined, that the unsparing criticism of an adversary might observe defects, and suggest some useful hints, which the tenderness and partiality of friendship might overlook, or scruple to communicate. Several sheets having been transmitted to Mr. John <i>(an honour of which he soon shewed himself quite unworthy,)</i> he altered, added, and retrenched, with such insolence and wantonness of dictatorial authority, as disgusted even the modest and candid Mr. Hervey. The consequence was, Mr. Wesley lost his supervisorship, and in return, sat himself to depreciate the performance he was not allowed to spoil, By what spirit this gentleman and his deputies are guided, in their discussion of controverted subjects, shall appear, from a specimen of the horrible aspersions which, in “The Church vindicated from Predestination,” they venture to heap on the Almighty himself. The recital makes me tremble; the perusal must shock every Reader, who is not steeled to all reverence for the Supreme Being. May the review cause the daring and unhappy writers to fall down, as in the dust, at the footstool of insulted Deity! Wesley and Sellon are not afraid to declare, that, on the hypothesis of divine decrees, the justice of God is “no better than the tyranny of Tiberius.” That God himself is “little better than Moloch.” — “A cruel, unwise, unjust, arbitrary, and self-willed tyrant.” — “A being void of wisdom, justice, mercy, holiness, and truth.” — “A devil, yea, worse than a devil.” <i> </i>Did the exorbitances of the ancient ranters, or the impieties of any modern blasphemers, ever come up to this? Surely, if such Methodists should finally be converted and saved, we can need no stronger proof that grace is infinitely free, and its operation absolutely invincible! Observe, Reader, that these are also the very men who are so abandoned to all sense of shame, as to charge me with blasphemy, for asserting, with Scripture, that God worketh all things according to the council of his own will; and that whatever God wills is right.</div>
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We have seen their portrait of the great and blessed God: let us, next, hear Mr. Sellon’s account of his own self; this he has tacked to the fag-end of his work. Be it my humble office, to rescue so brilliant a passage from the ignominy of its present situation, and place it <i>(where it deserves to stand)</i> in the front.</div>
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“As to myself,” says the Arminian, “I make no scruple to tell you, I am what some call an exotic; one<i> </i>destitute of the honour of an academical education. The highest degree I lay claim to, is that of a poor fellow of Jesus College, in the University of Christianity.”</div>
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Never, surely, till now, did such low, whining can’t ooze from the pen of meanness!</div>
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And is the pretended vindicator of a national Church dwindled, by his own confession, into an exotic? That his doctrines are exotic, or foreign and far-fetched, I always knew; but I was, hitherto, not botanist enough to ascertain the exoticism of the man. I hope, in his next vindication, he will inform us, to what class of exotic plants he belongs, and whether himself be not as Dutch as his principles.</div>
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He adds, that he never had an “academical education;” I believe him; nor is he in any danger of being mistaken for a man of learning. He will never frighten his brother enthusiasts with [[@Page:50]] that horrible bugbear <i>(so alarming to most fanatics) </i>called human literature. He does not so much as know the difference between a degree and a fellowship: “The highest degree I lay claim to,” says this pigmy on stilts, “is that of a poor fellow, &c.” You should have said, of the Foundry College, in Moorfields, whereof Mr. John Wesley is president, and wherein Thomas Olivers the preaching shoe-mender hath taken his degree in ignorance: that, Mr. Sellon, is the college to which you belong: for into what you cantingly style the “University of Christianity,” it does not appear that you are so much as entered. In proof of this, I appeal to your preceptor, Mr. Wesley himself; and to your fellow pupils, his followers. Your own Arminian friends, for whom you falsify through thick and thin, will not acknowledge you for a believer<i>. </i>However, as you seem to insist on passing, for “a poor fellow,” I shall in the following sheets, attentively consider what the poor fellow has to say against the doctrines of the Church of England.</div>
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One who has drawn so blasphemous a character of God, and who has, moreover, given the public so contemptible a sketch of himself, can hardly he thought likely to draw a very favourable account of his opponents. His representation of me, in particular, is so very curious, and composed of such contradictory ingredients, that I must, for the Reader’s amusement, submit it to his view. I had before been delineated, by an Arminian helpmeet of Mr. Wesley’s, as “sitting in my easy chair, and enjoying all the comforts of life.” One would think, that the see of Durham had been transferred to Broad Hembury, and that the Devonshire Vicar was warmly enrobed in lawn and black satin. So much for my attitude and enjoyments; next for my titles; these Mr. Sellon emmerates. I am, it seems,</div>
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“A Flaming Calvinist<i>.</i></div>
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“A Dragon<i>.</i></div>
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“An Hooter<i>.</i></div>
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“A Venomous Slanderer<i>.</i></div>
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“A Persecutor, possessing the same butcherly spirit that was in bishop Gardiner; yea, ten times more<i>.</i></div>
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“A Perfectionist.</div>
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“A malapert Boy, severely scratching and clawing with venomous nails<i>.</i></div>
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‘‘ A Papist<i>.</i></div>
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“A Socinian.</div>
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“A Mahometan.</div>
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“The greatest Bigot that ever existed, without one grain of candour, benevolence, forbearance, moderation, good-will, or charity.</div>
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“A wild Beast of impatience and lion-like fury.</div>
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<li class="li3">.<span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>“A Materialist that is, an Atheist. </li>
<li class="li3">.<span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>A goodly string of appellations! and not a little extraordinary, that they should all centre in one and the same man! Being so uncommon a person myself, my writings too must be something singular. Take a description of them in the words of the said Sellon: “I find sophistry, fallacy, false insinuations, raillery, perversion of Scripture and the Church Articles, self-contradiction, self-sufficiency, haughtiness, pride and vanity, glaring in almost every page.”</li>
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Thus, enthroned in my easy chair, dignified with titles, and accurately developed as a writer, I only want a suitable address, to render my magnificence complete; and who so well qualified to prepare it, as the eloquent Mr. Sellon? Lo, he attends; and, respectfully advancing, pays me the following compliments: “Unhappily daring, and unpardonably bold, thy tongue imagineth wickedness, and with lies thou cuttest like a sharp razor. Thou hast loved unrighteousness more than goodness; and to talk of lies more than righteousness. Thou hast loved to speak all words that may do hurt, O, thou false tongue!” Such are the candour and politeness of these Methodists; and such are the arguments, by which they would persuade us, that Arminianism is the religion of the Church of England.</div>
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These are the men that set up for “universal love;” who call one another by the cant names of “precious believers,” “most excellent souls,” “charming children of God,” “sweet Christians,” and “the clean-hearted.” If their hearts are no cleaner than their mouths, they have little reason to value themselves on their “sinless perfection.”</div>
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These are they who seek to bottom election on faith and goodness foreseen; of which foreseen goodness, humility and benevolence, meekness and forbearance, are, I suppose, some of the ingredients. Woe be to those “sweet Christians,” if their election has no better foundation than their “sweet” tempers, words, and works.</div>
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And why all this torrent of abuse? The plain truth is this: I detected Mr. Wesley’s forgeries, and chastised the forger. <i>Hinc ille lacrymee. </i>Hence the outcries of John himself, together with those of Thomas Olivers and Walter Sellon. The camp of the Philistines gave a scream, when they saw the levelled stone penetrate the brass of their Goliath’s forehead: but of all the tribe, none screamed so loud as the frighted Walter; of whose talent at screaming, a specimen has been exhibited to the reader. Let me whisper a friendly hint to this notable screamer. If you wish your scurrilities to obtain belief, restrain them within the banks of probability; malice, when too highly wrought, resembles a cannon too highly charged, which recoils on the engineer himself, instead of reaching its intended object of direction.</div>
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I might, with the most justifiable propriety, have declined joining issue, in controversy, with a person of Mr. Sellon’s cast, who is, by those that know him, deemed ignorant and unpolished, even to a proverb; he is, indeed, to borrow the language of another, “a small body of Pelagian divinity, bound in calf, neither gilt nor lettered.” I once hoped, that his friends were too severe, in branding him with such a character; but he has been so weak as to publish; he has gibbetted himself in print. I am fully convinced, that his friends were in the right, and my charitable hope mistaken.</div>
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Let none, however, suppose, that I harbour any degree of malevolence against either him or his master. Whatever I have already written, or may hereafter have occasion to write, in opposition [[@Page:51]] to them, or to any others, on whom the toil of defending them may devolve, has been, and, I trust, ever will be, designed, not to throw odium on their persons, nor to wound their cause unfairly, but, simply, to strip error of its varnish; to open the eyes of delusion; to pluck the visor from the face of hypocrisy; to bring Arminian Methodism to the test of fact and argument; to wipe off the aspersions thrown, by the despairing hand of defeated heterodoxy, on the purest Church under heaven; and to confirm such as have believed through grace.</div>
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Indeed, the purity of my intention speaks for itself. At a time of such general defection from the doctrines of the Church Established, I cannot possibly have any sinister ends to answer, by asserting those doctrines. It cannot be to gain applause; for, were that my motive, I should studiously swim with the current, and adopt the fashionable system; neither can it be to acquire preferment, for the doctrines of grace are not the principles to rise by. In the reigns of Edward VI., Elizabeth, and the former part of James I., the Calvinistic points were necessary steps to advancement, and led directly to the top of the Church: but the stairs have been long turned another way: what was, once, the <i>causâ sine qua nan</i> of ascending, is now a <i>causâ propter quam</i> turn, or, considered as a reason for keeping unfashionable divines as low on the ecclesiastical ladder as possible.</div>
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I bless God, for enabling me to esteem the reproach of Christ greater treasure than all the applause of men, and all the preferments of the Church. When I received orders, I obtained mercy to be faithful; and, from that moment, gave up what is called the world, so far as I conceived it to interfere with faith and a good conscience. The opposition which I have met with, in the course of say ten years ministry, has been nothing, compared with what I expected would ensue, on an open, steady attachment to the truths of God: and what insults have been thrown in my way came, for the most part, from a quarter equally abusive and contemptible; I mean, from Mr. John Wesley, and a few of his unfledged disciples; whose efforts give me no greater apprehension than would a fly that was to settle on my hat.</div>
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Some readers may suppose, possibly, that, in the course of the annexed Treatise, I have handled my assailants too severely: I request, that such will suspend their judgment, until they have perused the performance which gave rise to the present. Their opinion, I am persuaded, will then be reversed; and they will wonder, either at my deigning to take any notice at all, of an invective so exceedingly low and frivolous; or, at my not chastising the authors of it with a severity proportioned to their demerits: but, for abstaining from the latter, I had, among others, two reasons: (1). I should have sinned against meekness; and, (2). The poverty of Mr. Sellon’s talents, in particular, is so extreme, as to render him an object rather of pity than of resentment. As the man cannot reason, nor even write grammatically, I often allow him to rail with impunity. If a malicious ignoramus comes against me with a straw, self-defence does not oblige me, and Christian charity forbids me, to knock him down with a bludgeon.</div>
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Moreover, the period may arrive, when this very person, as also his commander-in-chief, may see the justness, and experience the energy, of those heavenly truths which they now unite to blaspheme: they may even preach the faith to which they have subscribed, and which they impotently labour to destroy. If having once been an Arminian, were incompatible with future conversion and salvation, we might indeed ask, who then can be saved? For every man is born an Arminian. Unrenewed nature spurns the idea of inheriting eternal life as the mere gift of Divine Sovereignty, and on the footing of absolute grace. I will not affirm, that all, who heartily embrace the Scripture system of Calvinism, are savingly renewed by the holy Spirit of God; for St. Stephen teaches us to distinguish between the circumcision of the ears, and the circumcision of the heart. Thus much, however, I assert, without hesitation that I know, comparatively very few Calvinists, of whose saving renewal I have reason to doubt. I will even go a step farther: sincerely to admit and relish a system so diametrically opposite to the natural pride of the human heart, is, with me, an incontestable proof, that a man’s judgment, at least, is brought into subjection to the obedience of Christ: and, to every such person, those words may be accommodated, “flesh and blood have not revealed this to thee, but my Father who is in heaven.”</div>
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I cannot give the two Pelagian gentlemen stronger evidence of my concern for their welfare, than by wishing them to renounce those unhappy principles, which, under pretence of extending the grace of God, by representing it as a glove accommodated to every hand, and which lies at the option of free-will either to make use of, or to fling behind the fire, do, in fact, annihilate all grace whatever, by ultimately resolving its efficacy into the power, merits, and caprice of man. Mr. Wesley and Mr. Sellon may find, in Strype’s Collections, a form of recantation, ready drawn to their hands. The historian introduces it thus:</div>
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“Another letter there was, writ <i>(</i><b><i>A. D. 1555</i></b><i>)</i> by one in prison <i>(for the Protestant faith, during the Marian persecution),</i> who had lately been one of these Free-willers, but now changed in his judgment, to certain of that persuasion, in prison also for the gospel.” The persecution of Protestants was so indiscriminate, that not only the bishops, clergy, and members of the Church of England, felt its iron hand, but even some of the Free-will Men <i>(as they were then called),</i> who dissented from the Church, and had formed a separate conventicle of their own, came in for a taste of the common trouble; but, though a few of the few Free-<i>willers (for their whole number was then exceedingly small) </i>were imprisoned for a while, I cannot find that so much as one of them [[@Page:52]]<i> </i>either died in confinement, or was brought to the stake. If Mr. Wesley and his friend can give authentic evidence, that so much as a single Free-willer was burned by the Papists, let them point him out by name; and, at the same time, remember to adduce their proofs. Such an instance, or instances, if producible, will reflect some honour on the Pelagians of that æra, though unable to turn the scale in favour of Pelagianism itself. I now return to the letter of the converted Free-will man. In it, says the historian, he lamented “the loss of the gospel <i>(i. e. the revival of Popery by queen Mary);</i> showing the reasons of it: whereof one he made to be, that they <i>(viz. himself and his Pelagian brethren)</i> had professed the gospel <i>(i. e. Protestantism) </i>with their tongues, and denied it in their deeds: another, that they were not sound in the doctrine of predestination. In this letter he mentioned what a grief it was to him, that he had endeavoured so much to persuade others into his error of Free-will; and that divers of that congregation of Free-will men began to be better informed; as namely, Ladley and Cole, and others unnamed: the report of whom gave him and his prison-fellows much rejoicing, <i>(adding) </i>that he was convinced<i> (i. e., converted from being a Free-will man)</i> by certain preachers in prison with him, who reconciled St. Paul and St. James together, to his great satisfaction.” </div>
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A great part of this choice letter is published by Mr. Strype, at the close of the volume referred to below. For Mr. Wesley’s sake, and for the sake of those who are led captive by him at his will, I here transcribe the following passages, which may serve him as a model of retractation, in case it should please God to grant him repentance to the acknowledgment of the truth.</div>
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“What high lauds, thanks and praise, am I bound to give always to God, who hath certified my conscience, by his spirit, that he will not impute my sins unto me, for his son Jesus Christ’s sake, in whom be hath chosen his elect before the foundations of the world were laid; and preserveth us all, so that there shall never any of us finally perish, or be damned.</div>
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“I, for my part, repent, that ever I was so bitter unto them that were the teachers of this undoubted truth: verily, I am not able to express the sorrows that I have in my heart: most especially, in that I went about, by all means, to persuade others, whereby they might be one with me in that error of Free-will. With joy unspeakable I rejoice, giving thanks to God night and day, in that it hath pleased him to vouch me worthy his fatherly correction at this present showing me what I am by nature; that is to say full of impiety and all evil: therefore, the great grief which I daily feel, is, because I see the horribleness and the great dishonour, that the filthy Free-will of man doth render unto God. I sigh and am grieved, because I spake evil of that good I knew not.</div>
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“Wherefore, my beloved, I am provoked by the Holy Ghost, to visit you with my letter; hoping, and believing, that God will give it good success: whereby God’s glory may be the more set forth. For I have a good opinion of you, my dear brethren; trusting in God, that he will reveal unto you the knowledge of himself: far I believe verily, that you will be vessels of God’s mercy; therefore I am assured, that you shall lack no necessary article of your salvation. I have good cause so to judge of you; not only because God hath opened his truth to me alone, but I also see how mercifully be hath dealt with many of our brethren, whom you do know well enough, as well as though I did recite them by name. God forbid that I should doubt you, seeing it hath pleased God to reveal himself, in these days, to them that heretofore were deceived with that error of the Pelagians, yea, and suffered<i> </i>imprisonment in defence of that which now they detest and abhor. God be thanked for them. This is the Lord’s doing: and it is marvellous in our eyes.</div>
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“Like as you have the truth, as concerning the Papists’ sacrament, in despising and hating that, as I do, it is well worthy: so likewise is Free-will a great untruth, undoubtedly.</div>
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“I think that God will receive me home unto himself shortly; therefore, I am moved to signify unto you in what state I stand, concerning the controversy between the opinions of the truth of God’s predestination and election in Christ. I do not hold predestination to the end to, maintain evil, as there be some have full ungodly affirmed that we do; God forgive them, if it be his will. We are sure that none, who have the full feeling of their election in Christ, can love or allow those things which God hateth.</div>
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[[@Page:53]] “I would wish, that men should not allow the fruit of faith to be the cause of faith. Faith bringeth forth good works, and not good works faith; for then of necessity we must attribute our salvation to our good works; which is great blasphemy against God and Christ so to do.</div>
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“But, I thank God, I do allow good works in their<i> (proper) </i>place. For I was created in Christ unto good works: wherefore I am bound to allow them, according to the Scriptures; and not to the end to merit by them anything at all; for then I were utterly deceived; for Esay saith, all our righteousnesses are as a filthy cloth, and are not as the law of God requireth them: wherefore, I acknowledge, that all salvation, justification, redemption, and remission of sins, Cometh to us wholly and solely by the mere mercy and free grace of God in Jesus Christ, and not for any of our own works, merits, or deservings. I myself could not understand St. Paul and St. James, to make them agree together, till our good preachers, who were my prison-fellows, did open them unto me. I praise God for them, most humbly; and yet I cannot be so thankful for them as I ought to be.</div>
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“Paul saith, faith only justifieth, and not the deeds of the law: and St. James saith, faith, without deeds, is dead. Here are contraries to the carnal man. When I saw these two Scriptures plainly opened, I could not stand against the truth therein: and thus were they opened unto me; that faith only doth justify before God; and the good deeds which St. James speaketh of, justify before the world.</div>
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“I thank God that they, who I thought would have been my enemies, are become my friends in the truth: as in sample, by our brethren Ladley and Cole, and such like: if it had lain in their own wills, they would have been enemies to that excellent truth which they do now allow: praised be God for them; for it is he who worketh both the will and deed. If he had not been merciful unto them and tome, and prevented our wills, we had been still wallowing in the mire. The prophet Jeremy saith, “Turn thou me, and I shall be turned; heal thou me, and I shall be healed.” And David saith, “The Lord hath prepared the hearts of the poor, and his ear hearkeneth unto them:” so that it is the Lord who doth all that good is. And again, David saith, “Ascribe all honour and glory to God, who alone is worthy: for no man Cometh unto me, saith Christ, except the Father, who hath sent me, draw him.” And again he saith, “All that the Father hath given me, shall come unto me; and him that cometh to me, I cast not away.”</div>
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“Therefore, I believe that we shall, every one, be preserved and kept, in him and for him, according to his own word. I dare boldly say, with our everlasting Saviour Jesus Christ, that all the elect shall be preserved and kept for ever and ever: so then, none of them shall be damned it any time. They who say that any of them may be lost for ever, do as much as in them lieth to make <i>(i. e. to represent)</i> Christ unable to preserve and keep them: denying the power of Christ, in so saying: for he saith, he loveth his unto the end: which love remaineth, and shall never be extinguished, or put out; and is not as the love of man, which is sometimes angry, and sometimes pleased. God, at no time, is so displeased with any of his elect, to the end that he will deprive them of the purchased possession, which he hath laid up in store for them in Christ before, and were elect according to the fore-knowledge of God the father, through sanctifying of the Spirit, unto obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ; which Lamb was killed from the beginning, according to God’s divine will and providence. Christ was ordained to die in the flesh; and all was for our sins, Christ was ordained in this respect; that the Father, seeing the fall of Adam, for that purpose only he ordained Christ, to the end that he would preserve a remnant of the posterity of Adam, even as it pleased his godly wisdom.</div>
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“What, will some say a remnant, and not all? St. Paul saith, Like as all died in Adam, &c. And St. John saith, Not for our sins only, &c. Ah! will these Free-will men say, Where is your remnant now become? To whom I answer by the Scriptures, whereas Christ shall say, in the last day, Depart from me, ye cursed; I know you not: I pray you, tell me, did not God know them, as concerning their creation, and also their wickedness? Yes, verily: but he knew them not for his elect children.</div>
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“The true Church of Christ doth understand these all<i> (viz. the all, and the whole redeemed plainly world, mentioned by St. Paul and St. John),</i> and all other such like Scriptures, to include all the elect children of God. None otherwise I am sure, that these all can he understood except we should make the Scripture repugnant to itself; which were too much ignorance, and too great an absurdity, to grant.</div>
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“I affirm, that all they be blasphemers to God, that do slander the truth in predestination; that say, If I be once in, I cannot be out, do what evil I will or can: all such do declare themselves to be reprobates, and children of God’s ire and wrath, rather than any of his. For whosoever delighteth in those things which God hateth and abhorreth, doth declare himself to he none of God’s: but, if he be any of his, he will give him repentance, for to know the truth, by his Spirit. For the Spirit maketh intercession for the saints, according to the pleasure of God. For we know that all things work for the best, unto them that love God, who are called of purpose. For those which he knew before, he also ordained before, that they should be like fashioned unto the shape <i>(i. e. here, to the gracious, hereafter, to the glorious, resemblance)</i> of his Son.</div>
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“And seeing God hath made all his elect like to the shape <i>(the spiritual and moral similitude) </i>of Jesus Christ, how is it possible, that any of them can fall away? Whosoever he be, that doth so hold, is against God and Christ; and may as well say, that our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ may perish as any of them; for Christ said unto the Father, Thou hast loved them as thou hast loved me: although Christ spake these words to the comfort of his disciples at the present, so likewise is it to the comfort of all us, his chosen. Those that St. Paul speaketh of that God knew before, he meant by it, all his elect; and immediately he addeth, saying, Whom he appointed before, them also he called; and whom he called, them also be justified; and [[@Page:54]] whom he justified, them also lie glorified. What shall we then say to these things? If God be on our side, who can be against us? That is to say, if God have appointed to glorify us and to save us, who can then deny<i> (deprive) </i>him of any of us, or take us out of his hands?</div>
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“My sheep, saith Christ, hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me; and I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish. O, most worthy Scriptures! which ought to compel us to have a faithful remembrance, and to note the tenor thereof; which is, the sheep of Christ shall never perish. </div>
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“Doth Christ mean part of his elect, or all, think you? I do bold, and affirm, and also faithfully believe, that he meant all his elect, and not part, as some do full ungodly affirm. I confess of them perish: for I have good authority so to say; because Christ is my author, and saith, if it were possible, the very elect should be deceived. Ergo, it is not possible that they can be so deceived, that they shall ever finally perish, or be damned: wherefore, whosoever doth affirm that there may be any <i>(i. e. any of the elect) </i>lost, doth affirm that Christ hath a torn body.” </div>
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The above valuable letter of recantation is thus inscribed: “A Letter to the Congregation of Free-willers, by One that bad been of that Persuasion, but come off, and now a Prisoner for Religion:” which superscription will hereafter, in its due place, supply us with a remark of more than slight importance.</div>
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To occupy the place of argument, it has been alleged that “Mr. Wesley is an old man;” and the Church of Rome is still older than he. Is that any reason why the enormities, either of the mother or the son, should pass unchastised?</div>
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It has also been suggested, that “Mr. Wesley is a very laborious man:” not more laborious, I presume, than a certain active being, who is said to go to and fro in the earth, and walk up and down in it: nor yet more laborious, I should imagine, than certain ancient Sectarians, concerning whom it was long ago said, “Woe unto you Scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites; for ye compass sea and land to make one proselyte:” nor, by any means, so usefully laborious, as a certain diligent member of the community, respecting whose variety of occupations the public have lately received the following intelligence: “The truth of the following instance of industry may be depended on; a poor man, with a large family, now cries milk, every morning, in Lothbury, and the neighbourhood of the Royal Exchange; at eleven, he wheels about a barrow of potatoes; at one, he cleans shoes at the Change; after dinner, cries milk again; in the evening, sells sprats, and at night, finishes the measure of his labour as a watchman.” </div>
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Mr. Sellon, moreover, reminds me <i>(p. 128.)</i> that, “while the shepherds are quarrelling, the wolf gets into the sheep fold;” not impossible: but it so happens, that the present quarrel is not among “the shepherds,” but with the “wolf” himself; which “quarrel” is warranted by every maxim of pastoral meekness and fidelity. I am farther told, that, while I am “berating the Arminians, Rome and the devil laugh in their sleeves.” Admitting that Mr. Sellor; might derive this anecdote from the fountainhead, the parties themselves, yet, as neither they nor he are very conspicuous for veracity, I construe the intelligence by the rule of reverse, though authenticated by the deposition of their right trusty and well-beloved cousin and counsellor.</div>
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Once more: I am charged with “excessive superciliousness, and majesty of pride:” and why not charged with having seven heads and ten horns, and a tail as long as a hell-rope? After all, what has my pride, or my humility, to do with the argument in hand? Whether I am haughty, or meek, is of no more consequence either to that, or to the public, than whether I am tall or short: however, I am, at this very time, giving one proof, that my “majesty of pride” can stoop; stoop even to ventilate the impertinences of Mr. Sellon.</div>
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But, however frivolous his cavils, the principles for which he contends are of the most pernicious nature and tendency. I must repeat, what already seems to have given him so much offence, that Arminianism “came from Rome, and leads thither again.” Julian, bishop of Eclana a contemporary and disciple of Pelagius, was one of those who endeavoured, with much art, to gild the doctrines of that beresiarch, in order to render them more slightly and palatable. The Pelagian system, thus varnished and palliated, soon began to acquire the softer name of Semi-Pelagianism Let us take a view of it, as drawn to our hands by the celebrated Mr. Bower, who was himself, in the main, a professed Pelagian, and therefore less likely to present us with an unfavourable portrait of the system he generally approved.</div>
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Among the principles of that sect, this learned writer enumerates the following:</div>
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“The notion of election and reprobation, independent on our merits or demerits, is maintaining a fatal necessity, is the bane of all virtue, and serves only to render good men remiss in working out their salvation, and to drive sinners to despair.</div>
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“The decrees of election and reprobation are posterior to, and in consequence of, our good or evil works, as foreseen by God from all eternity.” </div>
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Is not this too the very language of modern Arminianism? Do not the partisans of that scheme argue on the same principles, and express their objectious against Calvinism even in the same identical terms? Should it he said, “True, this proves that Arminianism is Pelagianism revived; but it does not prove, that the doctrines of Arminianism are originally Popish:” a moment’s cool attention will make it plain that they are. Let us again hear Mr. Bower, who, after the passage just quoted, immediately adds, “on these two last propositions, the Jesuits found their whole system of grace and free-will; agreeing whole system of grace and free-will; agreeing therein with the Semi-Pelagians, against the Jansenists and St. Austin.” The Jesuits were [[@Page:55]] moulded into a regular body, towards the middle of the sixteenth century: toward the close of the same century, Arminius began to infest the Protestant churches. It needs therefore no great penetration, to discern from what source lie drew his poison. His journey to Rome <i>(though Monsieur Bayle affects to make light of the inferences which were at that very time deduced from it)</i> was not for nothing. If, however, any are disposed to believe, that Arminius imbibed his doctrines from the Socinians in Poland, with whom, it is certain, he was on terms of intimate friendship, I have no objection to splitting the difference: he might import some of his tenets from the Racovian brethren, and yet be indebted, for others, to the disciples of Loyola.</div>
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Certain it is, that Arminius himself was sensible, how greatly the doctrine of predestination widens the distance between Protestantism and Popery. “There is no point of doctrines <i>(says he) </i>which the Papists, the Anabaptists, and the<i> (new)</i> Lutherans more fiercely oppose, nor by means of which they heap more discredit on the reformed Churches, and bring the reformed system itself into more odium; for they <i>(i. e. the Papists, &c.) </i>assert, that no fouler blasphemy against God can be thought or expressed, than is contained in the doctrine of predestination.” For which reason, he advise i the reformed world to discard predestination from their creed, in order that they may live on more brotherly terms with the Papists, the Anabaptists, and such like.</div>
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The Arminian writers make no scruple to seize and retail each other’s arguments, as common property. Hence, Samuel Hoord copies from Van Harmin the self-same observation which I have now cited. “Predestination <i>(says Samuel)</i> is an opinion odious to the Papists, opening their foul months, against our Church and religion:” consequently, our adopting the opposite doctrines of universal grace and free-will, would, by bringing so many degrees nearer to the Papists, conduce to shut their mouths, and make them regard us, so far at least, as their own orthodox and dearly beloved brethren: whence it follows, that, as Arminianism came from Rome, so “it leads thither again.”</div>
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If the joint verdict of Arminius himself, and of his English proselyte Hoord, will not turn the scale, let us add the testimony of a professed Jesuit, by way of making up full weight. When archbishop Laud’s papers were examined, a letter was found among them, thus endorsed with that prelate’s own hand: “March, 1628. A Jesuit’s Letter, sent to the Rector at Bruxels, about the ensuing Parliament.” The design of this letter was to give the Superior of the Jesuits, then resident at Brussels, an account of the posture of civil and ecclesiastical affairs in England; an extract from it I shall here subjoin: “Father Rector, let not the damp of astonishment seize upon your ardent and zealous soul, in apprehending the sodaine and unexpected calling of a Parliament. We have now many strings to our bow. We have planted that soveraigne drugge Arminianisme, which we hope will purge the Protestants from their heresie; and it flourisheth and beares fruit in due season. For the better prevention of the Puritanes, the Arminians have already locked up the Duke’s <i>(of Buckingham)</i> cares; and we have those of our owne religion, which stand continually at the Duke’s chamber, to see who goes in and out: we cannot be too circumspect and careful in this regard. I am, at this time, transported with joy, to see how happily all instruments and means, as well great as lesser, co-operate unto our purposes. But, to return unto the maine fabrieke:—Our foundation is Arminianisme. The Arminians and projectors, as it appears in the premises, affect mutation. This we second and enforce by probable arguments.” </div>
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The “sovereign drug, Arminianism,” which, said the Jesuit, “we <i>(i. e. we Papists)</i> have planted” in England, did indeed bid fair “to purge” our Protestant Church effectually. How merrily Popery and Arminianism, at that lime, danced hand in hand, may be learned from Tindal: “The churches were adorned with paintings, images, altar-pieces, &c. and, instead of communion tables, altars were set up, and bowings to them and the sacramental elements enjoined. The predestinarian doctrines were forbid, not only to be preached, but to be printed; and the Arminian sense of the Articles was encouraged and propagated.” The Jesuit, therefore, did not exult without cause. The “sovereign drug,” so lately “planted,” did indeed take deep root downward, and bring forth fruit upward, under the cherishing auspices of Charles and Laud.</div>
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Heylyn, too, acknowledges, that the state of things was truly described by another Jesuit of that age, who wrote thus: “Protestantism waxeth weary of itself. The doctrine <i>(by the Arminians, who then sat at the helm) </i>is altered in many things, for which their progenitors forsook the Church of Rome: as <i>timhus patrum;</i> prayer for the dead, and possibility of keeping God’s commandments; and the accounting of Calvinism to be heresy at least, if not treason.” </div>
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The maintaining of these positions, by the Court divines, was an “alteration” indeed; which the abandoned Heylyn ascribes to “the ingenuity and moderation found in some professors of our religion.” If we sum up the evidence that has been given, we shall find its amount to be, that Arminianism came from the Church of Rome, and leads back again to the pit whence it was digged.</div>
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The mention of Rome naturally enough paves the way for saying something about John Goodwin: and the rather, as Mr. Sellon seriously supposes that I paid his friend Wesley a very great compliment, when I styled him, which I still do, the John Goodwin of the present age. The greatness of this compliment will appear, from the following short particulars, which some historians have transmitted to posterity, concerning the said Goodwin. </div>
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[[@Page:56]] About the <b>year 1652,</b> when Cromwell’s design of usurping the sovereign power became more and more apparent, a set of visionaries, known by the name of Fifth-Monarchy MeD, grew very turbulent and conspicuous. Their grand ring-leader was John Goodwin, the Arminian; who had also rendered himself remarkable, by aspersing the Calvinistic doctrines of the Church of England, and by publishing a folio Vindication of King Charles’s Beheaders: yet, behold the art of this crafty Arminian! though the Fifth-Monarchy Men were not a little odious and formidable to Oliver Cromwell, and though John Goodwin was actually at the bead of those odious and formidable fanatics, Goodwin, notwithstanding plyed Cromwell so assiduously with flattery and obsequiousness, as to gain no small measure of that Usurper’s confidence: even the dissembling Oliver was, in part, over-reached by the still more exquisite dissimulation of master Goodwin.</div>
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Let not the candid reader imagine, that my colouring is too strong, or laid on too thickly: to cut off the very possibility of such a surmise, I shall express what I farther have to observe concerning the sly Fifth-Monarchy Man, in the words of others: not forgetting, at the same time, to subjoin, from bishop Burnet, as much as may suffice to authenticate what has been already placed to John Goodwin’s account.</div>
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“The Fifth Monarchy Men seemed <i>(inc. </i><b><i>A. D. 1652</i></b><i> </i><b><i>and 1653</i></b><i>,)</i> to be really in expectation, every day, when Christ should appear. John Goodwin headed these; who first brought in Arminianism among the sectaries. None of the preachers were so thorough-paced for him<i> (i. e. for Cromwell)</i> as to temporal matters, as Goodwin was; for he <i>(Goodwin)</i> not only justified the putting the King to death, but magnified it as the gloriousest action men were capable of He <i>(Goodwin)</i> filled all people with such expectation of a glorious thousand years speedily to begin, that it looked like a madness possessing them.” Such being the principles of John Goodwin, what a master-piece of political cunning must his conduct have been which could fix him so tightly in the saddle of Cromwell’s esteem! On the one hand, Cromwell was taking large strides toward the throne; and, soon, actually acquired kingly power, though <i>(by spinning his thread of affected moderation too finely)</i> he missed the name of King. On the other hand, Goodwin, who had long represented kingship as the great Antichrist which hindered [[@Page:57]] Christ’s being set on his throne,” carried himself fairly with the Protector, who was, every day, visibly approximating nearer and nearer to that very “kingship” which Goodwin abhorred as “the great Antichrist” that excluded the Messiah from possessing his right. A little to save appearances, Cromwell canted, occasionally, to Goodwin, and the rest of the Fifth-Monarchy Men; and in return, Goodwin as cantingly pretended to be convinced of Cromwell’s holy and upright intentions!</div>
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It surprised everybody, says Burnet, that John Goodwin, who had been so furious and active against Charles I., should come off with impunity, after the restoration of Charles II. “But<i> (adds the right reverend historian),</i> Goodwin had been so zealous an Arminian, and had sown such division among all the sectaries, on these heads, that, it was said, this procured him friends.” It has long been universally known and acknowledged that Charles II. himself had been, for some time before the commencement of his reign, a concealed Papist; and that be continued such, to the last moment of his life. No wonder, therefore, that Goodwin’s Arminianism atoned for the rancour and frenzy of his political principles and behaviour. “Goodwin had, so often, not only justified, hut magnified, the putting the king to death, both in his sermons and books, that few thought he could have been either forgot or excused; for <i>(Hugh)</i> Peters and he were the only preachers who spoke of it in that strain.” to balance a straw? During the civil commotions, the ranter kept himself secure, by his abhorrence of monarchy. After the nation was resettled, he preserved his neck, and his treasons were overlooked, on account of his zeal for Arminianism. He had been already serviceable to the Popish cause, by “sowing divisions” among Protestants; and he was suffered to live, by a Popish prince who aimed at arbitrary power, in order to his being farther useful in the same laudable department.</div>
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So much for Goodwin, as a politician: a word or two now, concerning him as a divine, and an individual; for it is, chiefly, in these latter respects, that I have honoured Mr. John Wesley with, what Mr. Sellon calls, “the great commendation” of being the John Goodwin of the pre- sent age.</div>
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Dr. Calamy informs, us, that, on the Restoration, Goodwin, “not being satisfied with the terms of the Uniformity-act, lived and died a Non-conformist. He was a man by himself, was against every man, and had every man almost against him. He was very warm and eager<i> (in) </i>whatsoever he engaged in. “The same writer observes, that Goodwin” wrote such a number of controversial pieces, that it would be no easy thing to reckon them up with any exactness.” If instead of the word “wrote,” we. only substitute the word “pilfered,” the whole of these two passages Will fit both the Mr. Johns as neatly as their skins.</div>
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A very humorous circumstance, respecting Goodwin, is related by Antony Wood: an ingenious writer of that age published a book against Goodwin, with this facetious title: “Colenian-street Conclave visited; and that grand impostor, the Schismatic’s Cheater in <i>Chief (who hath long slyly lurked therein)</i> truly and duly discovered, containing a most palpable and plain Display of Mr John Goodwin’s Self-conviction, and of the notorious Heresies, Errors, Malice, Pride, and Hypocrisy, of this most huge Garagantua. London, 1648.” The title is curious; but the frontispiece, prefixed, was exquisitely laughable, and most justly descriptive of the original. “Before the title <i>(continues Wood)</i> is John Goodwin’s picture, with a windmill over his head, and a weathercock upon it, with other hieroglyphics, or emblems, about him, to show the instability of the man.” The writer of the above piece was Mr John Vicars, the famous author of “The Schismatic sifted;” who, if he sifted all schismatics as searchingly as he appears to have sifted John Goodwin, the schismatics of that age bad no great reason to be much in love either with the sifter, or the sieve. What a masterly sifting would such a man have given to John Wesley and Walter Sellon! But they must now content themselves with Goodwin’s legacy of the windmill surmounted by a weathercock.</div>
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Goodwin had an excellent talent at scurrility and abuse; whereof take the following concise example: Mr. Nedham had written two treatises against him; the one entitled, “Trial of Mr. John Goodwin at the Bar of Religion and right Reason:” the other, “The great Accuser cast down;” on which the inflammable Arminian immediately took fire, and gave vent to his rage in explosions not the most gentle. He characterised Nedham as having “a foul mouth, which Satan had opened against the truth and mind of God,” as being “a person of infamous and unclean character for the service of the triers;” as “a man that curseth whatsoever he blesseth, and blesseth whatsoever he curseth.” And yet John Goodwin is represented as having been, like Mr. John Wesley, “a meek, loving-hearted” Arminian! Let me add, concerning the first of these Johns, that <i>(among a multitude of other refuters)</i> he was taken to task, in 1653, by the learned Mr. Obadiah Howe, in a performance entitled, “the Pagan Preacher silenced.” I question, if any of Goodwin’s Pagan preachments are still extant: but such of his Pagan treatises as have reached the present times, are, I find, the very Bible and Common Prayer-book of Mr. Walter Sellon. I shall close these remarks on Goodwin with some of the encomiums heaped on him by his said admirer. John Goodwin, saith this sagacious critic, was a man “whom envy itself cannot but praise; a glorious champion for the truth of [[@Page:58]] the gospel, and for the genuine doctrines of the Church of England.” Thus chants the godly and loyal Mr. Sellon: the veracity, the modesty, and the propriety of whose panegyric, may be amply collected from the foregoing testimonies, which I have produced, concerning the ranting-Fifth Monarchy Man, J. Goodwin.</div>
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Mr. Sellon is no happier in deducing conclusions, than in the drawing of characters: witness his judicious commentary on a passage of mine, whence he labours to distil no less than the doctrine of universal salvation. In my remarks on Dr. Nowel, I testified my firm belief, that the souls of all departed infants are with God in glory: that, in the decree of predestination to life, God hath included all whom he decreed to take away in infancy; and that the decree of reprobation hath nothing to do with them. From these premises says Sellon, it follows that “Mr. Toplady himself maintains general redemption, and even the universal salvation of mankind.” <i>Logica Sclloniana</i>. As if all mankind died in infancy. “Oh, but you quoted Matthew xviii. 14, to prove the salvation of infants;” true: I did so. Let us review the text itself. “It is not the will of your Father which is in Heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.” Supposing this to be spoken of infants, literally so called, it certainly proves, that all who die in that state are saved.” Oh, but our Lord says nothing about their dying in that state; he speaks of little ones in general, whether they live long, or die soon.” Does he indeed? Consult [[verse 10>>Matt 17:14]], “Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, that their angels <i>(i. e. as I understand it, the souls of such of them as die in infancy)</i> do always behold the face of my Father who is in Heaven.” Now, I should imagine it impossible for the angels, or souls, of little children, always to behold the face of God in Heaven, unless their souls were previously dislodged from their bodies by death: consequently according to my view of the passage, our Lord, in the 14th verse, speaks of such little ones, and of such only, as actually die in infancy. “Oh, hut the word angels means guardian angels, appointed to take care of children.” Before I can subscribe to this, I must see a grain or two of that necessary thing called proof. That children, no less than adults, are objects of angelic attention, in the course of Providence, I am far from denying: but, in my present conceptions of the passage under consideration, I cannot believe that exposition to convey the true sense of this particular text. Among other reasons, the following is one: how can those superior spirits, who are <i>(upon very probable grounds)</i> supposed, very frequently, if not constantly, to attend on infants, be yet said to behold always the face of our Father, in heaven? In order, therefore, to prove, that the word angels, in this declaration of our Lord, means angels, properly so termed, it must be first proved, that angels, properly so termed, can be present in more places than one, at one and the same time. “Oh, but angels may sometimes attend children on earth, and at other times be present in Heaven:” likely enough: but the angels, here spoken of, are said always to behold the face or glory of God, and that in Heaven: an affirmation which can never be reconciled to propriety, or even to truth, if they are supposed to be absent from Heaven at any period, or on any occasion. “Oh, but if angels are long-sighted, they may see into Heaven while they are on earth.” I never met with a treatise on the optics of angels, and therefore cannot say much to this hypothetical objection. On the whole, if “little ones in general,” whether they die young, or live to maturity, be<i> (as Mr. Sellon contends) </i>entitled to salvation, his own title to happiness is in contestable. If little reasoning, less knowledge, and no regard to truth or decency, be a passport to the skies, this exotic star will glitter there, like a diamond of the first water. In the meanwhile, I should be obliged to the said star, if he would, with the help of Mr. Wesley’s irradiation, show me what becomes of departed infants, upon the Arminian plan of conditional salvation, and election on good works foreseen.</div>
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From two Arminians, let me, for a moment, pass to a third. It will be found, in the following Historical Disquisition, that I have made some use of Dr. Peter Heylyn’s testimonies in favour of the grand argument: and I admit his depositions, on the same principle by which men of the most exceptionable cast are sometimes allowed to turn king’s evidence.</div>
Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16786453275962472466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731045158786084518.post-45850633964501763852013-11-23T09:44:00.000-08:002013-11-23T09:44:26.711-08:00Memoirs of the Rev. Augustus Montague Toplady, B. A.<h3 style="text-align: center;">
MEMOIRS OF THE</h3>
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Rev. AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY, B. A.</h2>
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On perusing the pages of biography, we find herein delineated the achievements of various persons exhibited to the world, according to the caprice and mutability of human opinion. But when we turn our news to the infallible leaves of inspiration, we discover a just discrimination of characters, with that mark of distinction stamped upon them from heaven, that stands in everlasting force, and admits of no exception. According to Scripture testimony, the righteous and the wicked are the only two classes that mankind are divided into; whatever becomes of the ungodly, the sacred records inform us, that it shall be well respecting the present and eternal prosperity of believers. For, “the foundation of the Lord,” or his immoveable purpose respecting his people, “standeth sure, having this seal,” this authentic and inviolable sanction, “The Lord knoweth,” the Lord loves, and will ever continue to take care of, “them that are his.”</div>
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We have many striking illustrations of the wonderful preservations experienced by the worthies of the Old and New Testaments, their whole history presents us with little else but a continued chain of miraculous providences. When God has had any particular employment for them to be engaged in, how suitably has he prepared and equipped his workmen for the work he has appointed them for! If, for example, we look at Elijah, we shall perceive a plain, blunt, honest prophet: a stranger to refinement, and to the blandishments of the world, but formed to speak of God’s testimonies before princes, without being ashamed. It was Elijah against all Israel, and all Israel against Elijah. “But his bow abode in strength, and the arms of his hands were made strong, by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob.” How eminently is this exemplified in the history of Isaiah, Jeremiah, John the Baptist, and the apostle Paul, who were copiously furnished for that sphere of action unto which they were appointed!</div>
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If we descend from Jewish to modern times, many peculiar instances will occur to elucidate this remark. Luther had inflexible enemies to withstand, and he strove with them roughly. His nerves were like steel, his bow like iron; his voice like thunder, and the force of his pen has been compared to the weight of Hercules’ club. He was destined to engage with dangers and fierce persecutions; and God armed him for the war accordingly. Calvin was a complete gentleman, and a polite scholar, his feelings were fine, and his nerves delicate. He was not appointed of God for such hard public work as Luther: and, comparatively speaking, he met with little violent persecution during the course of his life.</div>
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In our own country, Mr. Whitefield was designed of God to be the grand and honoured instrument of restoring the truths and the power of the gospel in England. He was therefore fitted for his employ. He feared the face neither of men nor devils. Like an eagle, he flew from country to country, sounding intrepidly the gospel trumpet as he flew.</div>
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Mr. Hervey was not prepared, neither was he called to, the same dangerous and difficult department. The holy rector of Weston was formed more for study than for public action; it was his delight to cultivate the elegant parts of learning in retirement and obscurity; and to speak for Christ rather by his pen, than as an apostolic itinerant.</div>
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Mr. Toplady was peculiarly set apart to exhibit and defend the prominent features of revelation. He has pushed his adversaries with more inflexibility, intrepidity and vigour, than was ever done by any preceding champions. His animated warmth was justly proportioned to the cause he had espoused. The objections that have been reiterated against the doctrines of grace appeared to have been collected into one focus, and held up to his view with an air of triumph, and with the confidence of certain victory, but under the divine auspices, and in the spirit of sincerity<span class="s1"> [[@Page:2]] </span>and truth, he was enabled to repel those attacks, that were made against the bulwark of Christianity, in such a manner as almost to supersede any eulogium that can be passed upon his uncommon abilities.</div>
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The last illustrious character, who is the subject of these memoirs, was son of Richard Toplady, a major, who died at the siege of Carthagena, soon after his birth. His mother’s maiden name was Catharine Bate. She was sister to the late Rev. Mr. Julia Bate, and the Rev. Mr. Bate, rector of St. Paul’s, Deptford; by whom they were married at the above church, <b>December 21, 1737.</b> They had issue one son named Francis, who died in his infancy, and afterwards our author. He drew his first breath at Farnham, in Surrey, <b>November the 4th, 1740.</b> His godfathers were Augustus Middleton, and Adolphus Montague, Esquires; in honour to whom he bore the Christian name of the one, and the surname of the other. He received the first rudiments of his education at Westminster-school, where he early evinced and increased a peculiar genius. From his studies at that place, he accompanied his honoured parent in a journey to Ireland, to pursue claims to an estate which she had in that kingdom. Notwithstanding the solitary state in which his mother was left, she anxiously watched over him, with the deepest sympathy of affection, and persevered in a plantor his education and future views in life, which were the principal concerns of her maternal solicitude. The son returned her tender care with the utmost affection. Indeed, so great was the obligation which he always conceived he owed her, that he never mentioned her but in words expressive of sensibility and gratitude.</div>
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As this son of the prophets was improving those natural talents he was so eminently endowed with, it pleased God in his providence, when he was about the age of sixteen, to direct his steps into a barn, at a place called Codymain, in Ireland, where a layman was preaching. The word of God, then delivering, was fixed upon his conscience, “in demonstration of the Spirit and with power.” Let it not rashly be deemed the enthusiasm of a visionist, or the<i> ignus fatuus </i>of religious distraction, when we assert, “That his faith did not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.” There was nothing peculiar in the place, nor instrument, to work upon the fancy or passions: therefore, to attempt to explain the effect, by any logical or metaphysical investigation, would be ridiculous, while we have the Scriptures in congeniality with facts, to inform us that “it pleaseth God, by the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe.”</div>
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A few years after the above memorable circumstance, Mr. Toplady reflects upon it in the following words: <b>“February 29, 1768,</b> at night, after my return from Exeter, my desires were strongly drawn out, and drawn up to God. I could, indeed, say, that I groaned with the groans of love, joy, and peace; but so it was, even with comfortable groans that cannot be uttered. That sweet text, Ephesians ii. 13, “Ye, who sometimes were far off, are made nigh by the blood of Christ,” was particularly delightful and refreshing to my soul; and the more so, as it reminded me of the days and months that are past, even the day of my sensible espousals to the Bridegroom of the elect. It was from that passage that Mr. Morris preached on the memorable evening of my effectual call; by the grace of God, under the ministry of that dear messenger, and under that sermon, I was, I trust brought nigh by the blood of Christ, in <b>August, 1756.</b></div>
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“Strange that I, who had so long sat under the means of grace in England, should be brought nigh to God in an obscure part of Ireland, amidst a handful of God’s people met together in a barn, and under the ministry of one who could hardly spell his name! Surely it was the Lord’s doing, and is marvellous! The excellency of such power must be of God, and cannot be of man – the regenerating Spirit breathes not only on whom, but likewise when, where, and as he listeth.”</div>
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On the perusal of this event, no doubt hut the sceptic will rage, the deist sneer, and the person who assumes the character of a rational Christian will contumaciously ask, How can these things be? Rather let such in a spirit of humility fall prostrate before God, and entreat him to make them recipients of the grace of conversion, which bringeth salvation. For, without this experience, real vital Christianity will appear futile and fallacious, and the Divine Records seem as volatile as the sybil leaves.</div>
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Our author early made it appear, that he was not afraid of literary labour; the valuable years of his youth were devoted to useful and honourable studies, rather than to frivolous occupations, such as too often engross the minds of young men at his age. He laid a solid basis for future years, and the superstructure was beautiful. Between the age of fifteen and eighteen, by way of relaxation from his studies, he employed himself in writing little poetic pieces, which were printed in a 12mo. volume, at Dublin, in the <b>year 1759.</b> They are by no means deficient in spirit and force; some of the verses are truly poetical, and many of the thoughts new. Amidst the small inaccuracies of these juvenile compositions, there are indubitable marks of genius. The youth and inexperience of the writer must be looked upon as an extenuation, so as to preclude every idea of criticism. The ardour of piety and religion, which irradiated the morning of his life, was increased with lustre in his maturer years.</div>
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<span class="s1">[[@Page:3]]</span> Richly replete with a variety of gifts, and divinely instructed into those doctrines requisite for a Christian and a minister, he received imposition of hands on <b>Trinity Sunday, the 6th of June, 1762.</b> He entered upon the ministerial function, not only as a scholar, and as one professing religion, but as an honest man. He mentions, that he subscribed to the articles, homilies, and liturgy, five separate times, from principle; he did not believe them because he subscribed them, but subscribed them because he believed them. He was well persuaded, that after such an awful declaration made by every candidate for holy orders, the man that can draw back, or palliate, for any sinister purpose, the doctrines he has subscribed, so as to insinuate himself into the favour of men, to avoid persecution, or for any aggrandisement, must be devoid of every upright principle, and openly prove himself an apostate from the Church, a traitor to the cause he once avowed, and a liar to the Holy Ghost.</div>
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Shortly after his initiation into the ministry, he was inducted into the living of Blagdon, in Somersetshire, which was procured by friends, in a manner very usual; but so scrupulous was he, when acquainted with the circumstance, that he was not easy until he had resigned it.</div>
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In the <b>year 1768,</b> he took possession of the vicarship of Broad-Hembury, near Honiton, in Devonshire, which he held until his death. By the love and lenity he had to his people, the whole produce of the living did not amount to 80<i>l</i>. per annum.—He was by no means sedulous alter temporal profits, or desirous of pursuing ecclesiastical preferments. It was his pre-eminence to merit the highest, and to be content with the lowest. In this situation he composed the greatest part of those writings, which will be esteemed and valued, while the genuine principles of Christianity continue to be revered.</div>
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To bring the reader more intimately acquainted with this excellent character, we shall insert a Diary found in his manuscript papers, entitled “Short Memorials of God’s gracious Dealings with my Soul, in a way of spiritual Experience, from <b>Dec. 6, 1767,”</b> with this motto, “Bethel visits ought to be remembered.” They contain an intense union of the most exalted sentiment in the engagement he was dedicated unto, and display the feelings of a soul in devout and ardent desires towards the Father of Spirits, unconnected with a heated imagination, or a stupid stoicism of devotion.</div>
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<b>Sunday, Dec. 6, 1767.</b> In the morning, read prayers and preached, here at Fen-Ottery to a very attentive congregation. In the afternoon, the congregation at Harpford was exceedingly numerous; and God enabled me to preach with great enlargement of mind and fervour. The doctrine did indeed seem to defend s the dew, and to be welcome as refreshing showers to the grass. O, my Lord let not my ministry be approved only, or tend to no more than conciliating the esteem and affections of my people to thy unworthy messenger; but do the work of thy grace upon their hearts: call in thy chosen; seal and edify thy regenerate; and command thy everlasting blessing on their souls! Save me from self-opinion, and from self-seeking; and may they cease from man, and look solely to thee!</div>
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<b>Monday, Dec. 7, 1767.</b> Received a letter from Mr. Luce, and answered it. Gracious God, dispose of the event, to which it relates, as seemeth best to thee! Choose thou my heritage and my lot! Let it be thy doing, not mine!</div>
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This afternoon, I received a letter from my honoured mother, and my chest from London. It is a satisfaction to receive these presents and pledges of an earthly parent’s love: but all the relations, and all the good things of this life, are less than nothing, and vanity, when compared with the love of Christ that passeth knowledge, and with one glimpse of thy special favour, O thou gracious Father of spirits.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, Dec. 8, 1767.</b> Was much refreshed, and sensibly comforted, in the evening, while reading Dr. Gill’s sermon on the Death of Mr. Fall.</div>
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<b>Wednesday, Dec. 9, 1767.</b> A good deal of company dined here. How unprofitable are worldly interviews! Spent the evening much more advantageously in reading Dr. Gill’s sermon on “The Watchman’s Answer,” and that great man’s tract on final perseverance. Lord, grant me more and clearer evidences of my interest in that everlasting covenant, which is ordered in all things, and sure!</div>
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<b>Thursday, Dec. 10, 1767.</b> Heard that Mr. Duke has bad a relapse into his fever. Pity, that so amiable a person in other respects should want the one thing needful! How much has he suffered, since I knew him, by drinking too freely; and how many narrow escapes has he had of his life! Yet, I fear, he goes on still as an ox to the slaughter. “It hath set him on fire round about, yet he knows it not: it burneth him, yet he lays it not to heart.” I bless God, who has enabled me to be faithful to the soul of my friend; and put it into my mind to write him that letter of remonstrance, from London, above a twelvemonth ago. But, alas! I have only delivered my own soul. Neither experience of present evils, nor the remonstances of friends, will or can have any true effect on a sinner’s heart, except thou, O Almighty Spirit, vouchsafe to reveal the arm of thy grace, and quicken the dead in sin, by the effectual working of thy glorious power! As overseer of this parish, I went down, in the morning, to view two of the poor-houses, and see what repair they want. Lord, what am I, that thou hast cast my lot in fairer ground, and given me a more goodly heritage!<span class="s1"> [[@Page:4]]</span> Surely, in a way of providence no less than in a way of grace, thou hast made me to differ; and I have nothing which I did not receive from thee.</div>
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In the evening wrote to my mother. Some particulars, in her last letters to me, obliged me, in my answer, to make the following observations, among others: “God has fulfilled his promises to me, so often, and in so many ways, that I think, if we could not trust his faithfulness and power, we should be doubly inexcusable. That he works by means, is certain; and I hope to try all that he puts into my hands. In the mean-while, let us cast our care on him; and remember that he that believeth shall not make haste. There is one thing that pleases me much, about Broad-Hembury, and makes me hope for a blessing on the event, viz. that it was not, from first to last, of my own seeking: and every door, without any application of mine, has hitherto flown open, and all seems to point that way. As a good man somewhere says, A believer never yet carved for himself, but he cut his own fingers. The all-wise God, whose never-failing providence ordereth every event, usually makes what we set our hearts upon unsatisfactory; and sweetens what we feared: bringing real evil out of seeming good; and real good out of seeming evil; to shew us what short-sighted creatures we are, and to teach us to live by faith upon his blessed self. If I should really exchange my present living for Broad-Hembury, it will, I believe, be soon after Christmas. In the mean while add your prayers, that God himself would be pleased to choose my heritage and fix my lot; command his gracious blessing good in his sight; and make it entirely his own doing, not mine. Do not let your tenderness for me get the better of your confidence in God; a fault, I fear, too common, even with believing parents. Poor Mr. D. is relapsed, and his life is despaired of. Alas! what is wealth, with its usual attendants, the lust of the eye and the pride of life, when the covenant of grace is of more value than all the worlds God hath made. Riches profit not in the day of wrath: but righteousness, even the obedience, blood, and intercession of Christ, delivereth from the sting of temporal, and from the very possibility of suffering eternal death. In him may we be found, living and dying!”</div>
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In my chamber, before I went to bed, was much comforted while singing praise to the great Three-One, the author of all the blessings I enjoy, and of all I hope for. I can testify, by sweet and repeated experience, that singing is an ordinance of God, and a means of grace Lord, fit my soul to bear part in that song for ever new, which the elect angels, and saints made perfect in glory, are now singing before the throne and before the Lamb! <b>Friday, 11, 1767.</b> Rode to Broad-Hembury, on a visit to Mr. Luce, where I spent the day, and stopped all night. Before I went to bed, God was with me in private prayer.</div>
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<b>Saturday, Dec. 12, 1767.</b> After breakfast, left Broad-Hembury, and returned home to Fen-Ottery, taking Ottery St. Mary in my way, where I called on my friend Mr. Johnson. In the evening read bishop Newton on the Prophecies. At night, was earnest with God, in private prayer, for a blessing on my tomorrow’s ministrations; and received an answer of peace. Lord, evermore increase my mental dependence on thy Holy Spirit. I am less than nothing, if less can be: and O! I am worse than nothing, for I am a vile sinner. But thou art infinitely gracious, and all power is thine.</div>
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<b>Sunday, 13, 1767.</b> The Lord was with me both parts of the day. Water, O God, the souls that heard; and the seed of thy word, sown in weakness, do thou raise in power.</div>
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Between morning and afternoon service, read through Dr. Gill’s excellent and nervous tract on predestination, against Wesley. How sweet is that blessed and glorious doctrine to the soul, when it is received through the channel of inward experience! I remember a few years ago, Mr. Wesley said to me, concerning Dr. Gill, that “he is a positive man and fights for his opinions through thick and thin.” Let the doctor fight as he will, I am sure he fights to good purpose: and I believe it may be said of my learned friend, as it was of the duke of Marlborough, that he never fought a battle which he did not win.</div>
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<b>Monday, Dec. 14, 1767.</b> This morning, one William Towning, about nineteen years old, was brought and robbing farmer Endicott’s house yesterday and robbing farmer Endicott’s house yesterday afternoon, in time of service, while the family were at church. My honest parishioner, it seems, just before he went out, stepped back into his room, he knew not why, and put away a considerable sum of money into a more secret place than where it had lain for some time past; by which means he was only robbed of little more than thirty shillings in money. How evidently providential! Just before the unhappy young man was going off from Mr. Penny’s for Exeter Jail, his father, who had heard of his son’s situation but an hour or two before, came up to the house with a look that too plainly declared the agonies of his heart. Unable to face his parent, the young man burst into tears, and retired into the orchard, whither his guard and his father followed him. Lord, if it be consistent with the counsel of thy will, be the comforter and the salvation of this sinner and his afflicted family! Bad as he is, thy grace can melt him down. By nature, I am as<span class="s1"> [[@Page:5]] </span>vile as he: yet I am, I trust, a monument of mercy, and a trophy of thy redeeming power. Blessed be the Lord, my New-Creator! Blessed be the Lord my faithful keeper! On all occasions of this sort, I would recollect that excellent line,</div>
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Before I came out of my chamber to-day, I was too hasty and short in private prayer. My conscience told me so at the time; and yet, such was my ingratitude and my folly, that I nevertheless restrained prayer before God. In the course of the day, I bad great reason to repent of my first sin, by being permitted to fall into another. It is just, O Lord, that thou shouldest withdraw thy presence from one who waited so carelessly on thee. May I never more, on any pretext whatever, rob thee <i>(or rather, deprive my own soul)</i> of thy due worship; but make all things else give way to communion with thee!</div>
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The Lord, however, was pleased, in a few hours, sensibly to heal my backslidings; and open the intercourse of love between himself and me. I never so feelingly wonder at my own depravity, nor so deeply abhor myself, as when the fire of divine love warms my heart, and the out-pourings of God’s Spirit enliven my soul. Surely, the knowledge of salvation is the most powerful incentive to repentance; and not only the most prevailing, but an absolutely irresistible motive to universal holiness!</div>
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Began Le Clerc’s <i>“Ars Critica.”</i> A most learned, and, in many respects, useful performance: yet sadly interlarded with scepticism and profaneness. God keep me from being a mere scholar. As a specimen of this learned Frenchman’s religion, I transcribe the following passages, from that part of his book I have hitherto read. Page 52, “——— In N.T.<i> omnia fere pietatis officio, sacrificii nomine, interdum indigitantur. Mors Christi sacrificium quoique vacatur, quod fuerit pæcipua ejus pietatis pars; of qucedam habeat sacrifis similia.” Page 106, “Beligio Christiana non est iti ccelo Integra delapsa, ut nullum ration habeat religionum, qnoe antea erant; sed omnia nova hominibus afferat: contra est veluti religionis Judaicie surculus, at ipso trunco major ac viridior</i>: “which latter clause is no more than a cold, paltry compliment, added, I suppose, to qualify, in some measure, the rudeness of what goes before. But, surely, primitive Judaism and Christianity are not two religions, but one and the same religion, under two different dispensations. Page 122, he positively asserts, that there are very many things in the Old Testament,<i> “quæ intelligi nequeunt:” </i>for proof of which, he assigns six reasons; but such as even I, with my little knowledge, can see through the fallacy of, and, to my own satisfaction, at least, refute. Page 125, he does, in fact, deny that Hebrew can be understood at all with certainty; some Jews, says he, did about a thousand years after Christ, begin to compose Grammars and Commentaries on Scripture. <i>“Sed qunm quicquid Judcei recentiores dixerunt hanc in rem, nitatur vel authoritate Massoretharum, vel veteribus versionibus, vel eontm conjecturis; necesse est eos”</i> [i. e. the Christian writers] i.e., <i>“non minus fluctuate ac cæteros interpretes. Massorethoe enim — Menda sui codicis consecrarunt.”</i> The preceding part of the citation represents the language itself as hardly intelligible: but the latter is such a home thrust at the Scriptures, as, I am apt to think, never fell from the pen of any other writer called himself a Christian. Presently after, he tells us, that the Samaritan Pentateuch is preferable to the Hebrew; as being free from many smaller blunders, with which the latter “passim,” everywhere, abounds. He ranks it among Rabbinical conjectures, to suppose <i>“Codicem hodiernum carere mendis,</i> [&] <i>linguam Hebraicam perfectissimam esse.”</i> Page 126, he falls foul on Grammars and Lexicons: as things in which very little confidence can be reposed: adding, by way of crown to all the rest, <i>“Itaque fatendum est, eum conari</i> χέδια περάαν μέγα κῦμα θαλάσσης <i>qui sperat se, subsidiis memo-ratis”</i> [namely, the Hebrew Scripture itself; all commentators, whether Jewish or Christian; and all Grammars, Lexicons, &c<i>.] “adjutum, mediocrem adepturum cognitionem lingua! </i><i>Hebraicæ.”</i> If so, farewell to all knowledge, not only of the Hebrew, but of every dead language whatever. Even Lexicons and Grammars are not to be trusted. But is not this the very quintessence of scepticism? And should not such a critic, with all his pomp of literature, be hissed out of the learned world? I mean, so far as he endeavours to sap the foundation of learning itself, and <i>(which will always, in some measure, stand or fall with it) </i>sound religion. Yet this is the writer, whose theological works <i>(which I desire to see) </i>were so strenuously recommended to me, some years ago, by my friend, the present bishop of Clogher!</div>
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<b>Friday, Dec. 18, 1767.</b> Rode to Honiton; when I bought Whitty’s Sermons, the excellent professor Waleeus’s Works, and two volumes of the Cripplegate Lectures In the evening, on my return to Fen-Ottery, had some short but sweet rays of comfort from above.</div>
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<b>Saturday, Dec. 19, 1767.</b> Was afflicted with wandering in private prayer. Lord, melt down my icy heart, and grant me to wait upon thee <span class="s2">ἀδιασπάστως</span>. O, when, to use the language of the seraphic Mr. Hervey, will my devotions be no longer “like the motes, which fluctuate to and fro in the air, without any vigorous impulse or certain aim; but like the arrow, which springs from the strained bow, and, quick as<span class="s1"> [[@Page:6]] </span>lightning, flies to the mark!” My God, I want the <span class="s2">δέησις ἐνεργομένη</span>, the inwrought prayer <i>(as Mr. Henry justly translates James v. 16),</i> the prayer of the heart, wrought in the soul by the Holy Ghost.</div>
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<b>Sunday, Dec. 20, 1767.</b> Was indisposed the former part of the day. Read prayers and preached in the morning, but languidly. In the afternoon God renewed my strength; and I read prayers and preached, at Harpford, with much freedom of soul, to an exceedingly large congregation. O the difference, the inexpressible difference, between enjoying God’s presence, and pining in its absence! This day, my soul has been like a chariot without wheels; and, afterwards, mounted as on eagles’ wings. Blessed be God, for tempering distress with joy! Too much of the former might weigh me quite down; too much of the latter might exalt me above measure. It is wisely and kindly done, O God, to give me a taste of both.</div>
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<b>Monday, Dec. 21, 1767.</b> In the morning, married John Court and Susanna Carter, at Harpford. On my return hither, spent the after part of the day, reading the late Mr. Whitty’s Sermons; not without some sensible comfort and joy in the Holy Ghost: yet, evangelical as the matter of these discourses is, the style in which they are written will not suffer me to think that the worthy author himself ever intended them for publication. It is a pity but the editor had first let them pass under the file of some able friend. Nevertheless, the inaccuracies of composition are greatly over-balanced by the sweet savour of that precious name and adorable grace, which, to the believing soul, are as ointment poured forth.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, Dec. 22, 1767.</b> All day within. The former part of it I was considerably out of order: and experienced something of what it is to have a body without health, and a soul without comfort. But, while I was musing, the fire kindled, and the light of God’s countenance shone within. I found a particular blessing in reading Mr. Mayo’s <span class="s3">Sermon</span><i> (Morning Exercises, vol. iv. serm. iv.) </i>on our “Deliverance by Christ from the fear of death.” Heb. ii. 15. Several things, in that choice discourse, struck me much; among the rest, the observations that follow: “The apostle says, <i>(1 Thess. iv. 14.)</i> that Jesus died; but that the saints sleep in him: the reason why the phrase is varied, is, because he sustained death with all its terrors, that so it might become a calm and quiet sleep to the saints. Satan desired to have Peter, that he might sift him as wheat; and with what did he sift and shake him? Why, it was with the fear of death. Peter was afraid they would deal with him, as they were dealing with his master. It was his slavish fear of death, that made him deny Christ; but anon, he recovered himself, and got above this fear; how came this about? It was by means of faith. Christ had prayed for him that his faith should not fail. It may be said of those who are fearful of death, that they are of little faith. It is usual with God to give his people some clusters of the grapes of Canaan here in the wilderness; to give them some drops of that new wine, which they shall drink in the kingdom of their Father. This sets them a longing to have their fill thereof; even as the Gauls, when they had tasted the wines of Italy, were not satisfied to have those wines brought to them, but would go to possess the land where the vines grew.”</div>
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In the afternoon, my indisposition was, in great measure, removed. Surely the shedding abroad of divine love in the heart, and a good hope through grace, frequently conduce as much to the health of the body as to health of soul. This is not the first time I have found it so.</div>
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<b>Thursday, Dec. 24, 1767.</b> My faith was weak, and my comfort small, this whole day; especially in the evening. Yet, this is my rock of dependence, that the foundation of the Lord standeth sure; his love is unchangeable; his purpose according to election, cannot be overthrown; his covenant is from everlasting to everlasting; and he girdeth me when I know it not.</div>
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<b>Friday, Dec. 25, 1767.</b> Read prayers, preached, and administered the holy sacrament, here at Fen-Ottery, in the morning. ____Farmer T_____e <i>(whom I happened to meet at Miktam, no longer ago than last Wednesday evening, so drunk that he could hardly sit on his horse)</i> presented himself at the Lord’s table, with the rest of the communicants; but I past him by, not daring to administer the symbols of my Saviour’s body and blood to one who had lately crucified him afresh, and had given no proof of repentance. He appeared surprised and abashed. Lord, make this denial of the outward visible sign, a means of inward and spiritual grace to his soul! In the afternoon, read prayers and preached to a very large congregation at Harpford. Drank tea at Farmer Carter’s. Spent part of the evening at Mr. Leigh’s, at Hayne. Thence, returned home, to Fen-Ottery.—A day of most intense cold.</div>
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I would observe, that I have, through the blessing of God, been perfectly well through this whole day, both as to health, strength, and spirits; and gone through my Church duties with the utmost ease, freedom, and pleasure, yet I have experienced nothing of that spiritual comfort and joy, which I sometimes do. A demonstration this, that they are prodigiously wide of the mark, who think that what believers know to be the joys of the Holy Ghost are, in fact, no other than certain pleasing sensations, arising from a brisk circulation of the blood, and a lively flow of the animal spirits. In this light the consolations of God are considered by those who never experienced them But if what the regenerate declare to be the<span class="s1"> [[@Page:7]] </span>no more than, what the cold formalist imagines, the mere result <span class="s2">ενεξιας σωματικῆς</span>; it would follow, that every person when in full health and spirits, actually enjoys that inward complacency and sweetness. But this is very far from being the case. I myself am a witness, that spiritual comforts are sometimes highest, when bodily health, strength, and spirits, are at the lowest; and when bodily health, strength, and spirits are at the highest, spiritual comforts are sometimes at the lowest; nay, clear gone, and totally absent. Whence I conclude, that the sensible effusions of divine love in the soul, is superior to, independent of, and distinct from, bodily health, strength, and spirits. These may be, where that is not; and <i>vice versâ</i>.</div>
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At night in my chamber, God was with me in my private waiting upon him; and I could indeed say, from a heart-felt sense of his lore, that it is good for me to draw nigh unto the Lord. Thy visitation, sweet Jesus, is the life and joy of my spirit.</div>
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<b>Saturday, Dec. 26, 1767.</b> Gave Dr. Gill’s tract on Justification, another reading; not without much edification and comfort. I do think, that this great man’s arguments for the proper eternity of this blessing, ex parte Dei, are unanswerable. Glory be to thee, Ο Lord, for my sense of special interest in thy everlasting love! Were all the treasures of ten thousand worlds displayed to my view, the sight of them, the mere sight, would not make me the richer nor the happier; it is the knowledge of peculiar property in any blessing, that felicitates the soul. In this the comfort lies. And, thanks to divine grace, I can look upon all the unsearchable riches of Christ, as my own Lord, increase my faith, and add to my thankfulness more and more.</div>
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<b>Sunday, Dec. 27, 1767.</b> In the morning, read prayers and preached, at Harpford, to a congregation tolerably large, and very attentive. Afterwards administered the Lord’s Supper to some who appeared truly devout communicants. It was indeed an ordinance of love to my own soul. I experienced the favour and. presence of God. I sat under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was pleasant to my taste.</div>
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In the afternoon, read prayers and preached, with great liberty and enlargement of mind, “A here, at Fen-Ottery. My subject was Acts xiii. 39. The sermon itself <i>(excepting a few additions here and there)</i> was what I had formerly wrote in Ireland, in the <b>year 1760,</b> a little before I quitted College. I can never be sufficiently thankful, that my religious principles were all fixed long before I ever entered into orders. Through the good hand of my God upon me, I sat out in the ministry with clear gospel-light from the first; a blessing not vouchsafed to everyone. Many an evangelical minister has found himself obliged to retract and unsay what he had taught before in the days of his ignorance. Lord, how is it that I have been so signally favoured of thee! O keep me to the end steadfast in thy truths. Let me but go on experimentally and sensibly to know thee; and then it will be absolutely impossible for me to depart from the precious doctrines of grace; my early insight into which I look upon as one of the distinguishing blessings of my life.</div>
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In the evening, received a letter from Mr. Andrew Lacam, of London, wherein he gives me this account of his late sister, Mrs. Carter, who died last month: “She had, for some time, left the fountain of living waters. I had two different conferences with her during her illness. I assured her, that I did not come to lord it over her; but, in love to her soul, put the question, How stand matters between God and you? Her attestation was, with sighs and tears, as follows: ‘I am truly sensible that I have run away from God, and it is my heart’s burden. But it is written in God’s word, “Whoso cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out.” I will, therefore, upon his promise, venture to cast my soul, without reserve, upon Jesus Christ; and there I am sure I can never perish.’ Upon this, we went to prayer,” &c.</div>
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I could not forbear answering my friend’s letter almost as soon as I received it; and, among other things, observed to him as follows:</div>
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“The account you give of dear Mrs. Carter’s decease, is a ground for hope in Israel concerning her. It is a great and blessed thing when we are enabled to cast ourselves on the promises. It cannot possibly be done without faith: and he that believeth shall be saved. Adored be the free grace of God, which, I trust, healed the backslidings of your sister, and brought her again within the bond of the covenant. His Spirit alone can drive the plough-share of penitential conviction through a sinner’s heart, and give us to mourn at the spiritual sight of him whom our sins have pierced. The Lord give us to mourn more and more, until we have mourned away our unbelief, our carelessness, and hardness of heart! The soul, I verily believe, is never safer than when, with returning Mary, we stand at the feet of Christ, behind him, weeping. I read lately of a minister in the last century, whose departing words were, “A broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.” Nor can I think such a state to be at all inferior, in point of real safety, to that of a good man who died a few years ago in London, with these triumphant words in his mouth, “Now, angels, do your office.” Of some it is written, “They shall come with weeping, and with supplications will I lead them;” while others of the Lord’s people enter the haven of everlasting life, as it were, with full sails and flying colours: they “return with singing unto Zion.” But this is our comfort, that of all whom the Father gave to Christ, he will not<span class="s1"> [[@Page:8]] </span>love one. However the joy of faith may decline the grace itself shall never totally fail; having, for its security, the Father’s covenant-love, which is from everlasting to everlasting; the blessed Mediator’s intercession, which is perpetual and all prevailing; and the faithfulness of the Holy Ghost, who, when once given, is a fountain of living water, springing up in the believer’s heart to life eternal. May he, in all his plenitude of saving grace and heavenly love, descend upon our souls as dew, and make us glad with the light of his countenance’. — When I consider the goodness of God to me, the chief of sinners, I am astonished at the coldness of my gratitude and the smallness of my love. Yet, little and cold as it is, even that is his gift, and the work of his Spirit. An earnest, I cannot doubt, of more and greater. The Lord Jesus increase the spark to a flame, and make the little one become a thousand! My health, after which you are so kind as to enquire, was never better. And, which is greater still, I often experience the peace that passeth all understanding, and the joy that is unspeakable and full of glory. Not that I am always upon the mount. There are seasons, in which my Lord is “as one that hideth himself.” But he only hides himself. He never forsakes the sinner he has loved. And, blessed be his name, he has engaged that the regenerate soul shall never totally forsake him; else, there would never be a saint in heaven. I rejoice to hear of Mrs. W.’s temporal welfare; and pray God to make her, spiritually, such as he would have her to be. She and I have much chaff to be burnt up; much tin to be consumed; may the blood of the Lamb be upon us both, for pardon; and the sacred Spirit be to us as a refining fire, for sanctification. If you write to her, do present the captain and know horn me, that except she comes to Christ as a poor sinner, with the halter of self-abasement round her neck, and the empty vessel of faith in her hand; as a condemned criminal, who has nothing to plead; and as an insolvent debtor, who has nothing to pay; she is stout-hearted, and far from righteousness. The way to be tilled with the fulness of God, is to bring no money in our sack’s mouth. If you see my a sinner, yet sanctified, in part, by the Holy Ghost given unto me. I should wrong the work of his grace upon my heart, were I to deny my regeneration: but, Lord, I wish for a nearer conformity to thy image. My short-comings and my misdoings, my unbelief and want of love, would sink me into the nethermost hell, was not Jesus my righteousness and my redemption. There is no sin which I should not commit, were not Jesus, by the power of his Spirit, old friend, Mr. I. tell him, that he will not be able to find any rest for the sole of his foot, until he returns to the doctrines of grace, and flies back to the ark of God’s election.”</div>
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<b>Tuesday, Dec. 29, 1767.</b> At night, before I betook myself to rest, I was enabled to act faith very strongly on the promises. It was as if I had held a conversation with God. He assured me of his faithfulness, and I trusted him. It was whispered to my soul, “Thou shall find me faithful:” my soul answered, “Lord, I believe it: I take thee at thy word.” This, I am certain, was more than fancy. It was too sweet, too clear, and too powerful, to be the daughter of imagination. There was <i>a nescio quid divini</i>, attended with joy unspeakable, as much superior to all the sensations excited by earthly comforts, as the heavens are higher than the earth Besides, in my experience of this kind, when under the immediate light of God’s presence within, my soul is, in great measure, passive; and lies open to the beams of the Sun of righteousness. These acts of faith, love, and spiritual aspiration, are subsequent to, and occasioned by, this unutterable reception of divine influence. I bless my God, I know his inward voice; the still, small whisper of his good Spirit: and can distinguish it from every other suggestion whatever. Lord, evermore give me this bread to eat, which the world knoweth not of!</div>
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<b>Wednesday, Dec. 30, 1767.</b> Held my tithe dinner at Harpford. The greater part of both parishes attended: they seemed greatly satisfied; I had as much reason to be satisfied with them. Busy as I was myself, in receiving my dues, and numerous as the company was, Mr. Powell, of Ottery <i>(who made one),</i> and myself, had several opportunities of conversing on the best subjects, particularly the decrees of God, and the spiritual impotence of man’s will.</div>
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Paid farmer Carter for four bushels of wheat, to be distributed among the poor, as follows John Churchill, Robert Bishop, Henry Wilson, James Bedford, jun., Joseph Wescoat, James Wey, Sarah Hare, John Churchill of Southertown, Charles Redwood, Patience Hall, William Perry, William May. jun., Elias Tews, Richard Haddon, and Richard House, one peck each; and half a peck each, to Elizabeth Critchard, and William May, sen.</div>
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Before I went to bed, God gave me such sense of his love as came but little short of full assurance. Who am I, O Lord? The weakest and the vilest of all thy called ones: not only the least of saints, but the chief of sinners. But though a sinner, yet sanctified, in part, by the Holy Ghost given unto me. I should wrong the work of his grace upon my heart, were I to deny my regeneration: but, Lord, I wish for a nearer conformity to thy image. My short-comings and my mis-doings, my unbelief and want of love, would sink me into the nethermost hell, was not Jesus my righteousness and my redemption. There is no sin which I should not commit, were not Jesus, by the power of the Spirit my sanctification. O when shall I resemble him quite, and have all the mind that was in him? When I see him face to face, which God will hasten in his time.</div>
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<b>Thursday, Dec. 31, 1767.</b> All day within, reading. The thought of how many acquaintances I have lost by death, within the course of this year, dwelt with great weight upon my mind. The following persons are some of them: Rev. Mr. Piers, <i>(rector of Killishee, in Ireland),</i> Sir Robert Long, Lord Tavistock, Rev. Mr. William Anderson, Mr. Davis, of Hatton-garden, my aunt Bate, at Deptford, Arch-deacon Potter, Mrs. Cox, Mrs. Carter, Mr. Warner, Mr. Benjarain Jones, Mrs. Weare, Mr. Powell, jun. of Dublin, Mr. Unwin. And yet I am spared Lord, may it be for good, and not for evil! There are, that I know of, but two things worth living for: 1. To further the cause of God, and thereby glorify him before the world: 2. To do good to the souls and bodies of men.</div>
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Upon a review of the past year, I desire to confess, that my unfruitfulness has been exceeding great; my sins still greater: and God’s mercies greater than both. It is now between eleven and twelve at night; nor can I conclude the year more suitably, to the present frame of my own mind, than with the following verse from one of my hymns, which expresses both my sense of past, and my humble dependence on divine goodness for future, favours:</div>
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<i>Kind Author, mid Ground, of my hope,</i></div>
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<i>Thee, thee for my God I avow;</i></div>
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<i>Mr glad Ebinezer set up.</i></div>
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<i>And own thou hast help’d me’till now.</i></div>
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<i>I muse on the years that are past,</i></div>
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<i>Wherein my defence thou hast prov’d;</i></div>
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<i>Nor wilt thou abandon at last</i></div>
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<i>A sinner so signally lov’d.</i></div>
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<b>Saturday, January 2, 1768.</b> In the afternoon, called on William Perry, of Southertown. Our discourse happened to take a serious turn. Among other subjects, we spoke concerning the divinity of the ever blessed Son of God. I could scarce help smiling, at the same time that I heartily applauded the honest zeal of my well-meaning parishioner: “Let any man,” said he, “but search the Scriptures, and if he does not find that Christ, as a divine person, subsisted, not only previous to his birth of the Virgin Mary, but from everlasting, I will lose my head.” This brought to my mind that just observation of the late excellent Mr. Hervey; who, speaking of Christ’s atonement, says: “Ask any of your serious tenants, what ideas arise in their minds, upon a perusal of the forementioned texts? I dare venture that, artless and unimproved as their understandings are, they will not hesitate for an answer. They will neither complain of obscurity, nor ask the assistance of learning; but will immediately discern, in all these passages, a gracious Redeemer suffering in their stead; and by his bitter, but expiatory passion, procuring the pardon of their sins. Nay, farther, as they are not accustomed to the finesses of criticism, I apprehend they will he at a loss to conceive how it is possible to understand such passages in any other sense.”</div>
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<b>Sunday, January 3, 1768.</b> Read prayers and preached, in the morning, here at Fen-Ottery; and in the afternoon, at Harpford, to a very large congregation, considering the quantity of snow that lies on the ground, and the intenseness of the frost, which render it almost equally unsafe to walk or ride. I opened the ministrations of this year, with that grateful acknowledgment of the apostle, 1 Cor. xv. 10. “By the grace of God I am what I am:” which was my thesis both parts of the day. My liberty, both of spirit and utterance, was very great in the afternoon. Looking on my watch, I was surprised to find that I had detained my dear people three quarters of an hour and yet, when I concluded, they seemed unwilling to rise from their seats; notwithstanding the unusual intenseness of the cold. Lord of hosts, who hast all hearts in thy hand work in my hearers both to be, to will, and to do, of thy good pleasure!</div>
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This dreadfully-severe weather continuing, I ordered two more bushels of wheat to be distributed as follows: to — Hooper, James Blackmore, John Sanford, Elizabeth Woodrow, Grace Mitchell, and Martha Ham, one peck each; and to John Trimlett, two pecks.</div>
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<b>Saturday, January 9, 1768.</b> This evening I felt unusual diffidence in myself, about the performance of to-morrow’s duty. Free <i>(blessed be God)</i> from fightings without, I yet had fears within I besought the Lord to manifest his strength in my weakness; and these precious words were returned, with unutterable power and sweetness, to my soul: “Trust in the Lord Jehovah, for in him is everlasting strength.” I was instantly enabled to cast myself, with perfect acquiescence, on the message from heaven; which, though delivered as an exhortation, is, in effect, a most glorious and comfortable promise. My doubts ceased; my misgivings vanished away; and I was assured that God would certainly give me a supply of sabbath-day strength, for a sabbath-day’s work.</div>
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<b>Sunday, January 10, 1768.</b> Found God faithful to his word. Great was my strength, both morning and afternoon; nor less the liveliness of my soul in preaching.</div>
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Received a letter from my honoured mother. The same person who brought it brought me likewise two London newspapers; which I hope to read to-morrow; but dare not do on God’s day. After evening service, visited and prayed with William May, sen. His cry was, “What shall I do to be saved?” But I could not, on close conversation with him, discover the least sign of evangelical repentance. He neither sees the vileness of his heart, nor knows his need of Christ. Lord, bless what I was enabled to speak, and do that work upon his soul which man cannot! One of the most difficult and discouraging parts of the ministry, I have long found, is visiting the ignorant and un-awakened sick. But nothing is too hard for God. He, whose grace wrought on me, is able to work on the sinner I have been with to-day; and will assuredly, if his name is in the Book of Life. Amidst all our discouragements, in ministering to others; and amidst all our doubts respecting ourselves; there is yet a foundation both sure and steadfast, even the rock of God’s eternal election. Was it not for this, how would my hands hang down! and what hope could I have for myself or others? But this sets all to rights. The unchangeable Jehovah<span class="s1"> [[@Page:9]] </span>knows his own people by name, and will, at the appointed season, lead them, out of a state of nature into a state of grace, by effectual vocation: for “whom he did predestinate, them he also called.” This is all my salvation, and all my desire: the ground of the former, and the object of the latter. At night, God was very gracious to me in secret prayer. Great was my joy in the Lord; sweet my communion, and free my access. O that I had but something to render him for all his benefits! Just before I went to bed, that blessed promise was whispered powerfully to my soul, and sensibly sealed upon my heart, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” Amen, Lord Jesus.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, January 12, 1768.</b> In the afternoon, read Dr. Calamy’s Account of the Ejected Ministers. What a blow to vital religion, to the Protestant interest in general, and to the Church of England herself, was the fatal extinguishment of so many burning and shining lights! But they are now where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest.</div>
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<b>Thursday, January 14, 1768.</b> Was greatly edified and comforted in reading Mr. Lee’s choice sermon on “Secret Prayer,” from Matt. vi. 6. in the Supplement to the Morning Exercise at Cripple-gate; <span class="s3">sermon</span> 14. How sweet are the following remarks, among many others! “At the great day secret prayers shall have open and public answers.”</div>
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“We halt, like Jacob, both in and after our strongest wrestlings.” I may term secret prayer, the invisible light of the soul in the bosom of God. Out of this heavenly closet rises Jacob’s ladder, whose rounds are all of light: its foot stands upon the basis of the covenant in thy heart; its top reaches the throne of grace.</div>
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“A weeping countenance, and a wounded spirit, are most beautiful prospects to the eye of heaven; when a broken heart pours out repenting tears, like streams from the rock, smitten by the rod of Moses’s law in the baud of a mediator.” It was an ingenious passage of Chrysostom, concerning the woman of Canaan, <span class="s2">φιλοσοφεῖ ἡ γυνὴ</span>, the poor distressed creature was turned an acute philosopher with Christ, and disputed the mercy from him. O, it is a blessed thing to attain to this heavenly philosophy of prayer, and to argue blessings out of the hand of God. The soul, like Jacob, does in <i>arenam descendere</i>, enter the lists with omnipotency, and, by holy force, obtain the blessing.</div>
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“When the sweet incense of Christ’s prayer ascends before the Father, our prayers become sweet and amiable, and cause a savour of rest with God. This I take to be one reason why the prevalency of prayer is so often assigned to the time of the evening sacrifice; as pointing at the death of Christ, which was about the ninth hour of the day, near the time of the evening oblation. Hence Abraham’s sacrifice received a gracious answer, being offered about the going down of the sun; Isaac went out to pray at eventide; Elijah, at Mount Cai met, prayed and offered at the time of the evening sacrifice; Ezra fell on his knees, and spread out his hands, at the evening sacrifice; David begs that his prayer might avail, by the power of the evening sacrifice; Daniel, in prayer, was touched by the angel, about the time of the evening oblation. All, to show the prevalency of our access to the throne of grace, by the powerful merit of Christ’s intercession, who was the acceptable evening sacrifice.</div>
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“The holy motions upon the hearts of saints, in prayer, are the fruits of God’s unchangeable decrees of love to them, and the appointed ushers of mercy: he graciously determines to give a praying, arguing, warm, affectionate frame, as the prodromus, or forerunner of some decreed mercy.</div>
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“Prayer is that intelligible chain, that draws the soul up to God, and draws mercy down to us; or like the cable which draws the ship to land, though the shore itself remain immoveable:” intimating, that the saints do not pray, with a view to make God, who is unchangeable, reverse any of his decrees; but, 1. To draw their own souls into near communion with him; and, 2. As one appointed means, in and through which God is pleased to bestow the blessings to which his people are predestinated. The excellent man goes on:</div>
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“We must gradually be acquainted with all the Three [persons of the Trinity]: first with the Spirit; then, with Christ; and, last, with the Father. First, God sends the Spirit of his Son into our hearts; and, then, through the Son, we cry, Abba, Father. The Father chose us in Christ, and sends his Spirit to draw us to Christ; and, by Christ, to himself. Have ye this access to God, by the Spirit? Bosom-communion flows from bosom-affection.</div>
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“A godly man prays in finding seasons. There are special seasons of drawing nigh to God; when he draws nigh to us: when the beloved looks forth at the window, and shows himself through the lattice, Cant. ii. 9. That is a time of grace when he knocks at the door of thy heart, by his Spirit. Motions of the heart [toward Christ] are like the doves of the east, sent with letters about their necks. It was said of Burnard, <i>Ex motu cordis, spiritus sancti præsentiam agnoscebat; </i>he knew when the Holy Spirit was present with him, by the motion of his heart.</div>
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“When thou canst discern the print of the broad seal of the covenant upon thy heart; and the privy seal of the Spirit upon thy prayers; and canst look upon the Son in a sacerdotal relation to thee; thou mayest come boldly, &c.</div>
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“As Gerson says, <i>Sequitur lachrymosadevotio flante Spiritu sancto:</i> devout tears drop down from the Spirit’s influence: melting supplications follow the Holy Spirit’s gracious infusions.</div>
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<span class="s1">[[@Page:11]] </span>“As the seaman, when he has set sail, goes to the helm and the compass, and sits still, and observes the sun, or the polar star, and how the ship works, and whether the land-marks form themselves aright according to his chart; so do you, when you have been at prayer, mark your ship, how it makes the port; and what rich goods are laden back again from heaven. Most people lose their prayers in the mist and fog of non-observation.</div>
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“David gave himself to prayer; in the Hebrew, it is, but I prayer; a Christian is all over prayer: he prays at rising, at lying down, and as he walks: like a prime favourite at court, who has the key to the privy stairs, and can wake his prince by night.</div>
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“We find David at prayer in the morning; and our blessed Lord, early in the morning, before day. Chrysostom advises, <span class="s2">νίψον, πρὸ τὰ σώματος τεν ψνχήν</span>: wash thy soul, before thou washest thy body.” A direction which I trust to observe inviolably, from this day forward; during my pilgrimage below.</div>
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The good man observes, page 292, that such as are truly converted have no need to pray by a prescribed form: “they have the Spirit of God to assist and enable them; and they need not drink of another’s bucket, who have the fountain.” This certainly holds good, for the most part at least, with regard to secret prayer: but not always, I apprehend, in open devotions, whether of a public or a domestic kind. Grace and gifts do not always go together. A person may have true grace, and great grace, without gifts; and may, on the other hand, have shining gifts, without a spark of real grace; witness the parable of the talents. All prayer is formal, in the worst sense, which does not ascend from the heart, by the Holy Ghost: and all prayer is spiritual which does; be it prescribed, or extemporary. Mr. Leeadds, p. 296., “God hath declared himself graciously pleased with secret prayer, so as to send an angel into Daniel’s chamber; and he was weary with flying, <i>volans in lassitudine</i>, he moved so swiftly; as the original text expresses it; Dan. ix. 21. <span class="s4">מצף</span><span class="s5"> </span><span class="s4">ביצף</span>. What a high expression [and strong figure] is this! Even angels are represented as weary with hasty flights to bring saints their answers! Of what great account does the Lord esteem his praying people, chat angels ate expressed to be tired in bringing tidings of mercy!</div>
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<b>Sunday, January 17, 1768.</b> God gave me strength to go through the public duties of the day in a comfortable and becoming manner. In the morning, read prayers, and preached, here at Fen-Ottery, to a large congregation; and, in the afternoon, at Harpford, to an exceedingly numerous one. Baptized a daughter of farmer John Carter’s. Between morning and afternoon service read the first epistle to the Thessalonians in the Greek. In the evening, lead the Cripplegate Lectures. Though my joy in the Lord has not been great today, yet this has been a profitable sabbath to my own soul: O God, make it so to the attentive people who sat under my unworthy ministry!</div>
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<b>Friday, January 22, 1768.</b> In the morning rode to Exeter, by appointment, to meet Mr. Luce. Put up at the Swan. Bought Cave’s <i>Historia Literaria,</i> Brook’s Dispensatory, and Erskine’s Sermons, in three vols. At night, I spent three or four hours, reading Erskine’s Sermons: particularly the following ones: “The rent Vail of the Temple;” — “The Harmony of Divine Attributes;” — “The Believer exalted in imputed Righteousness;” — and, “Faith’s Plea upon God’s Word and Covenant.” The reading of these sweet discourses was wonderfully blessed to my soul. Great was my rejoicing and triumph in Christ. The Lord was with me of a truth, and his gracious visitation revived my spirit. One moment’s communion with Christ, one moment’s sense of union with him, one moment’s view of interest in him, is ineffable, inestimable!</div>
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<b>Saturday, January 23, 1768.</b> Continued at Exeter until the afternoon. Before dinner, Mr. Luce and I made a formal resignation of our respective livings, before Mr. Geare and two other witnesses. Having signed and sealed the instruments of resignation, we left them with Mr. Geare, to be transmitted to the bishop. Prosper thou our handy work, Supreme Disposer of all things! May thy glorious Majesty, and thy gracious blessing, be upon us, for thy mercies sake in Jesus Christ! Amen.</div>
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After dinner, left Exeter and returned to Fen-Ottery. The ride was far from a comfortable one. Hail, rain, or snow, almost the whole way. I think this has been the most remarkable day, in point of weather, I ever knew. Between the time of my rising in the morning, and retuning home at night, we have had frost and thaw, snow, rain, hail, thunder and lightening, calm, high wind, and sunshine: a mixture of almost all weathers, from sun-rise to sun-set.</div>
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Before I retired to my chamber, I read Erskine’s Sermon <i>(and a matchless one it is,)</i> entitled, “The Promising God a Performing God:” and the Lord set the seal of his Spirit on my heart. I was enabled to mix faith with what I read; and God made it a time of love, joy, peace, and spiritual refreshment to my soul. I could look and pray to him my covenant God in Jesus Christ, who loved me from everlasting, and will love me without end.</div>
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<b>Sunday, January 24, 1768.</b> A day of almost perpetual rain. Read prayers and preached, in the morning, at Harpford, and here in the afternoon, to large congregations, considering the weather. God was with me in a way of bodily strength: but I cannot say I had much spiritual communion with him in a way of sensible intercourse. But though my fleece was not<span class="s1"> [[@Page:12]] </span>watered, I trust the dew of heaven fell around.</div>
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Between the morning and afternoon service, I read Erskine’s Sermon, entitled, “The King held in the Galleries:” not without much comfort and confirmation in Christ.</div>
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In the evening farmer Roberts came here to settle his tithe. I told him, I never transacted business on the Lord’s Day, and desired him to defer paying me till some other time. At night lead Erskine’s Sermon, entitled, “The humble Soul the peculiar Favourite of Heaven.”</div>
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<b>Sunday, January 31, 1768.</b> Read prayers and preached in the morning here at Fen-Ottery: and, in the afternoon, to an exceedingly large congregation at Harpford. Between morning and afternoon service, I made some very important additions to my sermon <i>(wrote </i><b><i>last Monday</i></b><i>) </i>on Ezek. xxxvi. 25-27. In delivering it at Harp-ford, to-day, God was with me of a truth. His word was eagerly received, and seemed to be deeply felt, by very many. I think I have seldom, if ever, seen such an appearance of usefulness among my Harpford people, since I knew them, as this afternoon. Dr. P. of Ottery, seemed to be touched from above: Lord, bring him sensibly and experimentally within the bond of the covenant, if it please thee; and likewise all the elect souls who have heard me this day.</div>
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How sweet is the work of the ministry, when attended with the unction and power of the Holy One! My soul has been very barren, ever since <b><i>last Lord’s Day</i></b>; but this sabbath has been a sabbath indeed.</div>
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Spent the evening, both agreeably and profitably, in reading the confession of faith, charge, and sermon, delivered at Bristol last August, <b>[1767]</b>, at the ordination of Mr. Evans, jun. Blessed be God for the advancement of his interest among us, under whatever form. Lord, increase the number of thy faithful witnesses, everywhere, and in every denomination of Protestants!</div>
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<b>Monday, February 1, 1768.</b> Before I went to bed this night, the Lord favoured me with some sweet intimations of his love.</div>
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<b>Sunday, February 7, 1768.</b> In the morning, at Harpford, and here, at Fen-Ottery, in the afternoon, [ read prayers and preached to a very full congregation each time; and, I trust, the word was blessed to some. My strength and enlargement of soul <i>(especially in the afternoon)</i> were very considerable. Bless the Lord, O my soul; and learn to trust him who is faithfulness itself. — In the evening, read Bunyan’s Pilgrim, What a stiff, sapless, tedious piece of work is that written by bishop Patrick! How does the unlearned tinker of Bedford outshine the bishop of Ely! I have heard, that his lordship wrote his pilgrim, by way of antidote against what he deemed the fanaticism of John Bunyan’s Pilgrim. But what a rich fund of heavenly experience, life, and sweetness, does the latter contain! How heavy, lifeless, and unevangelical, is the former! Such is the difference between writing from a worldly spirit, and under the influence of the Spirit of God.</div>
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<b>Wednesday, February 10, 1768.</b> The Lord was very gracious to my soul this afternoon. His Spirit was the comforter, and Mr Erskine’s two sermons, on “The rainbow of the covenant,” where the channel through which that comfort was conveyed. Amid my many seasons, and long intervals, of barrenness and want of joy, God sometimes makes me glad with the light of his countenance; but, alas! I can too often say, with him of old, concerning such sweet seasons, <i>“Rara hora, brevis mora.”</i> Yet I can, through grace, say likewise, </div>
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<i>A moment’s intercourse thee is worth a years delay.</i></div>
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Surely, O God, I could not long after your presence, if I did not know the sweetness of it, and love thee in some measure: and I could not know that, but by the revelation of thy Spirit in my heart; nor love thee at all, if thou hadst not first loved me. We grieve at the absence of those we love, and of none else: blessed be God for this evidence of true <i>(however weak)</i> grace!</div>
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<b>Thursday, February 11, 1768.</b> Began to compose “A Course of Family-Prayer.” Lord, prosper the work of my hands upon me, and make it useful!</div>
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<b>Friday, February 12, 1768.</b> A little before bed-time, I darted up an ejaculation, that God would be pleased to strengthen me, and give me faithfulness, in the discharge of my duty toward the parishioners of Broad-Hembury, whither I expect soon to remove. My God gave me this sweet answer immediately, “I will enable thee, and bless thee.” Behold the servant of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word!</div>
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I desire to remember, with grief and shame, that, soon after the above manifestation of God’s favour to my soul, I was tempted, before I could get to sleep, with high thoughts of my own righteousness, both as a man and as a minister. The enemy plied his fiery darts very thick, and came in as a flood; but the Spirit of the Lord lifted up a standard against him. I was enabled <i>(glory to divine grace)</i> to reject the cursed insinuations as I would hell-fire. Oh, that ever such a wretch as I should be tempted to think highly of himself! I that am, of myself, nothing but sin and weakness; I, in whose flesh naturally dwells no good thing; I, who deserve damnation for the best work I ever performed! Lord Jesus, humble me to the dust, yea to the very centre of abasement, in thy presence. Root out and tear up this most poisonous, this most accursed weed, from the unworthiest heart that ever was. Shew me my utter nothingness. Keep me sensible of my sinnership. Sink me down deeper and deeper, into penitence and self-abhorrence. Break the Dagon of pride in<span class="s1"> [[@Page:13]] </span>pieces before the ark of thy merits. Demolish, by the breath of thy Spirit, the walls, the Babel of self-righteousness and self-opinion; level them with the trodden soil, grind them to powder, annihilate them for ever and ever. Grace, grace, be all my experience, and all my cry! Amen. Amen.</div>
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<b>Sunday, February 14, 1768.</b> In the morning, read prayers and preached here at Fen-Ottery, to a pretty full auditory. In the afternoon, read prayers at Harpford, and preached Mrs. Mary Wheaton’s funeral sermon, to an exceedingly great congregation indeed. I could not forbear observing, “that God had spared her to a good old age; that she was born in the <b>year 1675,</b> ten years before the death of Charles II., and about fourteen before the coming in of king William III.; that she lived in the reigns of seven monarchs, and died last Tuesday, aged ninety-three.” Great was my fervour and enlargement of soul; nor less, to appearance, the attention of them that heard. Nay, they seemed to do more than attend; the word, I verily believe, came, with power and weight, to their hearts. I never yet saw my Church so full <i>(insomuch that there was hardly any standing) </i>and, I think, seldom, if ever, beheld a people that seemed to relish the gospel better. Neither they nor myself were weary, though I detained them much longer than usual. Since my intention of changing livings with Mr. Luce has been publicly known, a spirit of great earnestness and life appears to have been poured out on my people. And yet, I trust, I see my way plainly pointed out, and that it is the will of God I should leave them. A wonderful combination of providential circumstances leaves me scarcely any room to doubt of my call to Broad Hembury. Lord, bring me not up thither unless thy presence goes with me! Take care of thy own elect <i>(and so thou assuredly wilt)</i> here and in this neighbourhood! And give us, O give us, some more parting blessings! — Mr. Holmes, of Exeter, came thence this morning to hear the unworthiest of God’s messengers. This gentleman was at my churches both parts of the day; and, from what conversation I had with him, appears to be one who knows and loves the truth as it is in Jesus.</div>
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<b>Wednesday, February 17, 1768.</b> In my chamber, this evening, those words, 2 Tim. i. 7, “God hath not given unto us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind,” were impressed much upon my heart, and my meditation on them was attended, not only with great peace and sweetness, but with joy in the Holy Ghost. My sense of union and communion with God was very clear: and I was enabled to see myself one of God’s regenerate people, by finding within myself <i>(through the riches of grace alone)</i> those three infallible evidences of conversion, which that delightful text lays down. The spirit of Christ was to me a spirit of power, when he effectually called me to the knowledge of himself in the <b>year 1756,</b> at Codymain, in Ireland, under the ministry of Mr. James Morris: he has been, and is, a spirit of love, in my soul, to all the divine persons; and, as such, the principle of sanctification: and he has been to me a spirit of a sound mind, by leading me into, and confirming me in, the light of the gospel truth, in its full harmony and consistency; which I verily believe, for my own part, to be a branch, at least of that <span class="s2">σωφρονισμός </span><i>(which, among other significations, denotes wisdom and instruction),</i> mentioned by the apostle in that passage; and may not, I apprehend, be improperly rendered soundness of judgment. Yet, the <span class="s2">σωφρονισμός</span>, abstracted from the <span class="s2">δν́ναμις</span> and the <span class="s2">ἀγάπη</span>, is not, of itself, a certain evidence of regeneration; it is the divine power, and the love of God shed abroad in the heart, which render soundness of judgment not only comfortable, but a mark of saving grace. Blessed be God for my experience of all the three!</div>
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<b>Sunday, February 21, 1768.</b> Read prayers, and preached, in the morning, at Harpford; and in the afternoon, here at Fen-Ottery. I have great reason to be thankful for the strength and presence of mind with which I was enabled to go through with my public duties, both parts of the day; and to be humbled in soul, for my want of spiritual liveliness and fervour. Lord, I am and can he alert in thy work, no longer than I feel the efficacy of divine attraction; may I, if it please thee, feel it more and more for the sake of thy rich mercy in Jesus Christ. Amen.</div>
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In the evening, I was enabled to draw much spiritual improvement from that passage, John xi. 40, “Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?” Lord, cause me to do the one, and to see the other!</div>
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<b>Tuesday, February 23, 1768.</b> Awoke very early this morning, with those words full and deep upon my mind, “I will give unto you the sure mercies of David.” I cannot say that I had an immediate sense of covenant-interest in that glorious promise; yet the impression of it was attended with a satisfactory sweetness, and its signification was, as it were, spontaneously opened to me, in a manner too clear and pleasing to express. It seemed to me <i>(and I can find no reason, still, to think otherwise) </i>that the passage <span class="s2">τὰ ὅσια Λαβίᾳ τὰ Πίσα</span>, may be literally rendered “the sacred” [i. e. the inviolable and] “faithful things of David:” for, why may not <span class="s2">όσιος</span>, which signifies holy, just, and sacred, have, in this connexion, the firmness, certainty, and perpetuity of those spiritual blessings, which are given and made over to God’s elect, by virtue and in consequence of the Father’s covenant of grace made in their behalf, with Christ and antitypical David? This, at least, must be granted;<span class="s1"> [[@Page:12]] </span>that the words, as they lie in the New Testament, will bear the translation I have given: and my translation and sense of them seem exactly to coincide with the original passage, as it stands in the prophet, whence the apostle quoted it.</div>
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<b>Sunday, February 28, 1768.</b> The Lord was with me in the discharge of my ministry both parts of the day; especially in the afternoon at Harpford. O, my faithful God, bless the word spoken!</div>
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<b>Wednesday, March 2, 1768.</b> In secret prayer, this morning, before I left my chamber, the fire of divine love kindled, and the Lord sensibly shone upon my soul. I could not forbear saying, “O, why art thou so kind to the chief of sinners?” I was so taken up, and as it were circumfused, with the love of God, and the perception of my union with him, that I could hardly ask for pardon. — Thus I walked in the light of his countenance, for, I suppose, two or three minutes: when, alas! evil wanderings intervened, my warmth of joy suddenly subsided, and I was, in great measure, brought down from the mount. Yet the sweetness and peace of this heavenly visit remained after the blessed visitant was withdrawn. Though the sun himself retired from view, yet <i>(if I may so express it) </i>I enjoyed the refraction of his beams. He did not disappear, without leaving a blessing behind him; sufficient, I trust, for faith to live upon until I see him again.</div>
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In the afternoon, wrote several letters: among the rest, one to my honoured friend, Dr. Gill, which I concluded thus: “You see, sir, my letter is the very reverse of Ezekiel’s roll. And with reason. Since, when God puts gladness into the heart, why should not the lips overflow with praise? Though I am certain that you are immortal until your work is done, and that God will perform the thing that is appointed for you, I am yet enabled to bear you, in the arms of prayer, to the throne of grace; and presume to request, that, at the seasons of access with joy, you will not forget the meanest of God’s people, and the unworthiest, the most impotent <i>(yet not the least favoured)</i> of his messengers. I need not tell you, that I mean, honoured and very dear sir, your obliged, &c.”</div>
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<b>Thursday, March 3, 1768.</b> Upon a review of this day, in which my mind has been variously exercised, I have great reason to stand astonished at my own baseness; nor less so, at the several instances of mercy, both temporal and spiritual, with which God hath favoured me since I awaked this morning. I can, through grace, adopt David’s language, and close the evening with his sweet hymn of thanksgiving: Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgiveth all thy sin, and healeth all thine infirmities; who saveth thy life from destruction, and crowneth thee with loving kindness and tender mercies; who satisfies thy mouth with good things,” the good things of his providence, and thy heart with the better things of his grace; “making thee young and lusty as an eagle.” Psalm ciii.</div>
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<b>Sunday, March 6, 1768.</b> In the morning, read prayers and preached, at Harpford; and, in the afternoon, here at Fen-Ottery; would I could say, with the fervour and sensible joy I sometime; experience. But, I was rather in a cold frame the whole world. Lord, pardon my unworthiness, and wash away my holy things in the blood of him thou hast provided for a burnt offering! Thou art faithful, who hast promised: nor is my interest in thee the less secure because I have not always eyes to see it clearly.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, March 8, 1768.</b> Our family dining early to-day, Mr. Harris <i>(of Wellington)</i> and myself took a walk, about two in the afternoon, to the top of Fen-Ottery Hill. Looking round thence, I observed to him how plainly we could see the two churches, of Harpford and Fen-Ottery, in the vale beneath us. Perceiving, however, a pillar of smoke rising into the air, at a little distance from Harpford tower, I asked my companion, “What he thought it was?” He replied, “I suppose they are burning stroil.” Imagining this to be the case, we continued our walk for, I believe, full three hours, round Ailsbear Hill, and other parts of the common. Coming, at last, to Micktam in our circuit, we called on old Farmer Francke; and were hardly seated, before he asked us, “Whether we had heard of the fire at Harpford?” Adding, that, “according to the best of what his eldest son could discern, it was Farmer Endicott’s house that was burning.” The wind being pretty strong, North East by East, I knew, that, if it was Endicott’s house, or any of the adjoining ones, the vicarage-house and offices must be in imminent danger. I posted away for Harpford, without delay; and, being got within near view of the village, plainly perceived, by the course of the smoke, that the vicarage had actually taken fire. By the time I arrived at the wooden bridge, I met a man coming to acquaint me with what had happened; upon seeing me, he saluted me with “Sir, your house is burnt down to the ground.” Entering the village, I found it almost literally true. The dwelling-house, the barn, the linhays, the stable, &c. with the back house rented by John Woodford, were, as it were by sympathy, all inflames at once, and more than half consumed. — Thomas Wilson’s house, and that in which Henry Bishop lately lived <i>(from which latter mine caught fire),</i> were totally destroyed. When I saw the vicarage irrecoverably lost, I returned to Fen-Ottery, and took horse for Exeter; where I arrived between eight and<span class="s1"> [[@Page:15]] </span>nine in the evening, and put up at Mr. Lathbury’s. Being fatigued with my hasty ride, I thought it best to apprise Mr. Gearing <i>(agent for the London Insurance Office)</i> by a note of what had happened; who, in his answer, desired to see me the next morning.</div>
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What I chiefly enter down this account in my diary for, is this: namely, as a memento of God’s great goodness to me, both in a way of providence and grace. Though I was not certain whether the expense <i>(‘I mean, all above the insurance’)</i> of rebuilding the vicar-house, with its appendages, might not eventually fall on me <i>(notwithstanding my resignation of the living</i> <b><i>last January 23, 1767</i></b><i>,)</i> by Mr. Luce probably refusing, in consequence of this misfortune, to complete our projected exchange; yet neither the report, nor the sight, of this alarming visitation, made me so much as change countenance, or feel the least dejection. This could not proceed from nature; for, my nerves are naturally so weak, that, in general, the least discomposing accident oversets me quite, for a time It was therefore owing to the supporting goodness of God, who made me experience the truth of that promise, “Thy shoes shall be iron and brass; and as is thy day, so shall thy strength be.” Surely, we can both do, and endure, all things, through Christ enabling us. Had any one told me beforehand, “You will see the vicarage all in flames, without the least emotion of mind,” I should have thought it impossible. But the strength of God was made perfect in my weakness; and therefore it was that my heart stood fast, believing in the Lord. O, may thy grace be ever sufficient for me!</div>
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Spent the evening not only in a comfortable, but even in a rejoicing frame of mind; and never rested better afterwards. Thou, Lord, canst make the feeble, as David. Thus, the 8th of March was a day to be particularly noted, not in my book only, but in my latest remembrance; on account of that wonderful support with which I was favoured: which not only made my feet as hind’s feet, and caused me to walk on the high places of Jacob; but which even bore me up, as on eagle’s wings, above the reach of grief, fear, and weakness; and, as it were, laid me at rest on the bosom of Christ, and within the arms of God.</div>
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<b>Wednesday, March 9, 1768.</b> Continued at Exeter until after dinner. Called on Mr. Gearing, and Mr. Geare. Found, upon inquiry, that, the fire at Harpford happening after the living was vacated by my resignation of it, the exchange will certainly stand good, and the melancholy event there cannot possibly affect me. Who would not trust in the Lord, and wait until a cloudy dispensation is cleared up? Through grace, I was enabled to do this; and the result of things has proved that it would not only have been wicked, but foolish, to have done otherwise. O, that I may always be as well enabled to adopt and realize that divine apothegm, “He that believeth, shall not make haste.”</div>
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Spent about an hour and a half with good Mr. Holmes, whom I found in great distress of mind, on account of his only surviving son being given over in a fever. During our interview, God so opened my mouth, and so enlarged my heart, that, I trust, both my friend and myself found our spiritual strength renewed, and were sensibly and powerfully comforted from above. In the evening, returned to Fen-Ottery.</div>
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<b>Thursday, March 10, 1768.</b> Drinking tea, this afternoon, at Farmer Carter’s, I had an opportunity of seeing more leisurely, the devastation at Harpford. The whole vicarage is one large mass of ruins. What a providential mercy was it, that I resigned the living before this misfortune happened! O God, how wise, and how gracious, art thou, in all thy ways!</div>
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<b>Friday, March 11, 1768.</b> After breakfast, rode to Broad-Hembury, where I dined with Dr. Luce; who bears the late afflictive providence of Harpford better than I could have expected.</div>
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<b>Sunday, March 13, 1768.</b> In the morning read prayers and preached here at Fen-Ottery, and in the afternoon, at Harpford <i>(from Romans viii. 28.)</i> to exceeding large congregation. I have much reason to bless God, for the great measure of bodily strength, vouchsafed me to-day: yet my soul was by no means in a lively frame. Neither triumphant, nor depressed, my mind seemed to resemble the time mentioned by the prophet, in which the day will be neither clear nor dark. Zech. xiv. 6.</div>
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At night, before I went to bed, was much troubled with coldness and wanderings in secret prayer.</div>
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<b>Monday, March 14, 1768.</b> Looking over one of my journals this morning, I could not help blessing God for such a series of mercies as my life has been made up of; upon which, these words were instantaneously and sweetly suggested to my soul, “I will carry thee on.” Amen, gracious Lord!</div>
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<b>Sunday, March 20, 1768.</b> In the morning, read prayers, and preached, at Harpford, to a very full congregation: but without any ray of sweetness or enlargement; at least, to myself. Between morning and afternoon service, I was so far left to the doublings and evil surmisings of my own unbelieving heart, as even to dread the remaining public duties that lay before me. But the glorious Lord was better to me than my fears, and graciously disappointed my ungracious misgivings: for, in the afternoon, he was with me, both in a way of strength, and in a way of consolation. I read prayers and preached here at Fen-Ottery, with great freedom, and considerable liveliness to a crowded Church.</div>
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<span class="s1">[[@Page:16]]</span> About six in the evening, being alone in my chamber, I was still more sensibly led forth beside the waters of comfort. I tasted some sweet droppings of the honeycomb, and could say, “My Lord, and my God.” The embers were blown aside, by the breath of the Holy Spirit; the veil of unbelief was rent; and the shadows fled away. Light sprang up, and the fire kindled; even the light of God’s countenance, and the fire of his love. Y et my comforts did not amount to the full triumph and ecstatic bliss I have sometimes experienced; but were gentle, peaceful, and serene; attended with a mild, refreshing, lenient warmth; which melted me into conscious nothingness before God, and made me feel him and rest upon him as my all in all. The very state this, in which, if it be his will, I could wish both to live and die: for I look upon such a placid reception of his gently-pervading influence, where all is soft and sweet and still, to be the most desirable frame of soul on this side heaven. But I desire to leave all to the disposal of Him who best knows how to deal with his militant people; and who will be sure to lead them to heaven by the right way, and me among the rest.</div>
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<b>Monday, March 21, 1768.</b> Between ten and eleven at night, in my chamber, a little before I betook myself to rest, the Lord favoured me with some gracious outgoings of affection toward himself. My meditation of him, and communion with him, were sweet; and the intimations of his love to me drew forth my love to him. The cherishing south wind of his loving Spirit breathed upon the garden O! my soul, and the spices thereof flowed out. I could say, and still can, “Whom have I in heaven, but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire in comparison of thee. Come, O my beloved, into thy garden, and eat thy pleasant fruits!” Thus, though affected, ever since the afternoon, with a slight head-ache, my bodily indisposition was more than compensated with the peace that passeth all understanding; and I could rejoice in the sense of union with Christ, my exalted head; a head that is never out of order.</div>
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<b>Thursday, March 24, 1768.</b> In the afternoon, the Lord gave me this word of comfort, “I have put away thy sin.” It came with power, and I was enabled to believe the testimony of the Holy Spirit. Towards evening, I was in a very comfortable frame of soul, while making some considerable additions to my sermon on John ii. 19. How greatly do these occasional visits from above cheer and strengthen a sinner on his way to Zion! Surely, there is a river, and not only the streams, but even a few drops of it, make glad the city of God.</div>
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<b>Friday, March 25, 1768.</b> This afternoon and evening, but especially at night, the Lord has been very gracious to my soul. I could see myself loved with an everlasting love, and clothed with Christ’s everlasting righteousness. My peace flowed as a river; and I found the comforts of the Holy Spirit to be neither few nor small. My sense of justification was unclouded, as when the clear shining of the sun giveth light. “My beloved is mine, and I am his.” Under these sweet, unutterable manifestations, I have scarce anything to pray for; supplication is swallowed up in wonder, love, and praise; Jesus smiles, and more than a ray of heaven is shed upon my soul. “I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels.” My harp is taken down from the willows, and I can sing the Lord’s song in a strange land.</div>
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<i>Touch’d by the finger of thy love.</i></div>
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<i>Sweet melody of praise I bring;</i></div>
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<i>Join the enraptur’d choirs above,</i></div>
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<i>And feel the bliss which makes them sing</i></div>
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<b>Saturday, March 26, 1768.</b> A letter from London informs me, that poor old lady Goring is lately turned Papist. Surely, it is a debt I owe to God, to truth, my own conscience, and to the friendship with which that unhappy lady formerly honoured me, to write to her on this sad occasion. Lord, keep me steadfast in the purity of thy blessed gospel, and, if it please thee, recover her from this snare of the devil!</div>
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Was indisposed, great part of this day, with the head-ache; but enjoyed, toward evening, a measure of the peace of God. At night, a little before I went to bed, the Lord was pleased to give me a full assurance of strength, and carrying me comfortably through the duties of the ensuing sabbath. I could no more doubt of his giving me a sabbath-day’s blessing, than if the sabbath had been passed, and the blessing actually received.</div>
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<b>Sunday, March 27, 1768. Palm-Sunday.</b> Between eight and nine this morning, the Lord visited my soul with a lively sense of his salvation. My comfort, joy and triumph were unutterable for some minutes; and the savour of his precious ointment, thus divinely shed abroad in my heart, abode with me, more or less, through the course of the whole day. In the morning, my congregation here at Fen-Ottery was very full; and I was enabled to read prayers, and to preach, with more inward liberty, and consolation of spirit, than I have done for some Sundays back. The gospel ordinances were sweet to my taste, and I experienced that animating promise, “He that watereth, shall be watered also himself.”</div>
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In the afternoon, read prayers, and preached at Harpford, to a congregation indeed. “Behold the Lamb of God,” was my subject: O Lamb of God, cause me, and<span class="s1"> [[@Page:17]] </span>those who heard me this day, to behold thee, here, in the light of special faith; and hereafter, in the light of endless glory!</div>
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Though I have a violent cold upon me, with a tendency to a sore throat, yet I was carried through my duties, not only with great comfort, but with unusual strength of body and voice. A worse church to speak in I never knew, than Harpford; yet I am confident I was well heard by all present; whose number, I apprehend, was at least seven hundred; which, I dare believe, I should not have been, considering my hoarseness to-day, had not my soul been particularly happy in the Lord. The sense of his presence giveth power to the faint, and makes men act beyond themselves. Under the influence of his Spirit, the meanest believer becomes like the chariots of Amminadib, and goes forth like a giant refreshed with wine: the places of God’s worship are, each, a banqueting house; and the means of grace are so many mountains of spices.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, March 29, 1768.</b> That sweet text, “This God is our God for ever and ever; he shall be our guide, even unto death:” proved a cordial to my soul this morning. Blessed be his name, I could adopt those words of triumph, and still can, in the assurance of faith. I am, through grace, as clearly satisfied of my interest in the blessing they contain as if they were addressed to me by name.</div>
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I remember a delightful paraphrase of this golden passage, written by Mr. Hart; which I cannot help putting down here; and the rather, as it is the very language of my soul at present:</div>
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<i>This God. is the God we adore,</i></div>
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<i>Our faithful, unchangeable friend;</i></div>
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<i>Whose love is as great as his pow’r.</i></div>
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<i>And knows neither measure nor end.</i></div>
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<i>Tis Jesus, the first and the last,</i></div>
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<i>Whose Spirit shall guide us safe home;</i></div>
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<i>We’ll praise him, for all that is past,</i></div>
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<i>And trust him, for all that’s to come.</i></div>
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In the afternoon, began, and about half finished, a sermon on Phil. ii. 8. which, if the Lord please, I hope to deliver from the pulpit next Friday. The Lord has already, while writing it, made it a means of grace to myself; and gave me to experience the power of that dying love which the text and the preceding context so sweetly celebrate. O Lamb of God, slain for me! Thy blood is balm; thy presence is bliss; thy smile is heaven. Through thy precious righteousness, sinners and salvation meet together. Thou hast knit me to thyself in the bonds of an everlasting covenant which shall not be forgotten and cannot be annulled. Thou hast set me as a seal upon thine arm, and hast set the seal of thy Spirit upon my heart. I can sing, with one of the saints, now in heaven</div>
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<i>Love mov’d thee to die;</i></div>
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<i>And on this I rely,</i></div>
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<i>Mr Saviour hath lov’d me, I cannot tell why,</i></div>
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<i>But this I can find,</i></div>
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<i>We two are so join’d</i></div>
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<i>He’ll not be in glory and leave me behind.</i></div>
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<b>April, 1, 1768. Good-Friday.</b> In the morning read prayers, preached, and administered the blessed Sacrament, at Harpford. Both in the pulpit, and at the Lord’s table, my joy, consolation, and enlargement of soul, were great: and, I think, I never saw communicants more humble, serious, and devout. God’s presence seemed to be manifested among us in a very uncommon manner. In the afternoon, read prayers and preached here at Fen-Ottery: and the glorious majesty of the Lord our God was evidently upon speaker and hearers. This has been a Good Friday indeed to my soul; and, I dare believe, to the souls of many beside. Lord, make the sensible unction of thy Spirit not only to descend upon us, but to abide with us!</div>
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<b>Saturday, April 2, 1768.</b> After breakfast, rode to Exeter; where I dined at Mr. Holmes’s. Found that dear and excellent man not only more resigned to the will of God, but even more cheerful than I could well have conceived. Mrs. Paul, of Topsham, and Mr. Lewis, a worthy Baptist minister, dined with us. Our conversation at table was on the best subjects; and I found our Christian discussions sensibly blest to my soul. After tea, myself and four more followed the remains of master Holmes to Eade, about two miles out of the city, where they were interred. Mr. Cole, curate of the parish, read the funeral service; and I preached a sermon, suitable to the solemn occasion, to a large auditory, and one of the most attentive ones I ever saw. I had a violent hoarseness upon me all the afternoon, which made me apprehensive I should both speak and be heard with difficulty. But, upon my entrance into the pulpit, while the first psalm was singing, I lifted up my heart to God, and prayed, “Lord, help me, this once.” Nor was my supplication lost. I was helped indeed. I preached forty minutes, with great ease to myself, and with great, strength, readiness, and distinctness. It was a blessed season to my own heart; and, I earnestly trust, to the souls of many that heard. The word did indeed seem to come with the demonstration of the Spirit, and with power Returning to Exon, I supped with Mr. Holmes and the company; and thence, between eleven and twelve at night, returned home to Fen-Ottery.</div>
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<b>Sunday, April 3, 1768.</b> Easter-Sunday. Rose this morning, with such a cold, and hoarseness on my voice, that I could hardly speak either audibly or intelligibly. Read prayers, however <i>(if it might be called reading)</i> here at Fen-Ottery, and administered the blessed Sacrament; but, knowing it would be in vain to attempt preaching, ordered the clerk to make an apology to the congregation. At the table of the Lord, the Lord of the table was with me of a truth; and made my soul rejoice, amid all the weakness of my body.</div>
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<span class="s1">[[@Page:18]] </span>In the afternoon, rode to Harpford; where, after reading prayers to a very great congregation, as well as I could, which was very badly, I was in some doubt whether I should attempt to preach or not. Considering, however, that, if I found I could not make myself heard, I could but cease; and grieving at the thought of sending away such a multitude, without even endeavouring to break to them the word-of life; I went up into the pulpit, and besought the Lord to manifest his strength in my weakness: and he graciously did. I preached three quarters of an hour, with wonderful strength and unusual enlargement of soul. Awe and attention were visible on every face. I was enabled to exert myself greatly, and to pour out my whole soul in the ministry of the word. The sense of God’s presence, together with the sweetness and dignity of the subject I was upon, melted me so, that, I think, I was never more strongly carried out. Once in particular, I could scarce refrain from bursting into tears. Hoarse and disagreeable as my voice sounded, yet, I am convinced, the voice of the Holy Spirit made its way to many hearts. Indeed all were struck, if there is any judgment to be formed by appearances. My wonder, at the ability with which I was endued, and my gratitude to the blessed God, for the comforts that were experienced, will hardly suffer me to desist from saying more of this memorable opportunity. Lord, who would, not trust thee? Who would not love thee? The work, O God, was thine j and thine be all the glory! Amen, Amen.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, April 6, 1768.</b> The hoarseness blessed be God, begins to go off. Drinking tea, to-day, at Mr. Leigh’s, at Hayne, the company went away early, and Mr. Leigh and I had the remainder of the afternoon to ourselves. Our conversation took a very improving turn. We talked much of death, the assurance of faith, and the invincibility of converting grace. My conversation on the latter subject never seemed to come to him with so much conviction and power, as now. He almost gave up his Arminianism, and drank in what I was enabled to say, with a seriousness and sensibility I never saw in him before. He even appeared to relish the doctrine of grace, and to feel some of its power. Lord, let not thy Spirit leave him, until thou hast made him cry, from the depth of his heart, “O, sovereign grace! I am nothing! thou art all!”</div>
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On my way home to Fen-Ottery, especially as I was riding over Tipton-bridge, my soul was in a very comfortable frame. O, the unutterable sweetness of sensible interest in God’s election, the covenant of grace, and righteousness of Christ! I trust, I can say, they are all mine.</div>
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<b>Wednesday, April 6, 1768.</b> This afternoon, about two o’clock, I received institution, at Exeter, to the living of Broad-Hembury. While on my knees, the chancellor was committing the souls of that parish to my care, my own soul was secretly lifted up to God for a blessing; which, I humbly trust, will be given, for his mercy’s sake in Jesus Christ.</div>
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Immediately after I was instituted to Broad-Hembury, Mr. Luce was instituted to Harpford.</div>
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<b>Thursday, April 7, 1768</b>. That gracious promise was given me to-day, “I will inform thee and teach thee in the way wherein thou shalt go; and I will guide thee with mine eye.” I had been, previously, much dejected in spirit, and exercised with various doubts; but that word of comfort came with such power and effect, that I was soon set to rights again.</div>
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<b>Friday, April 8, 1768.</b> Mr. Luce dined here to-day, we walked, in the afternoon, to Harpford; where I inducted him into that living. In the course of this day, I was favoured with some comfortable glimpses of my heavenly Father’s countenance. O, that I could ever have a heart warm with love! But it is better to catch fire now-and-then, than to be always cold. Blessed be the Comforter of God’s elect, a live coal, from the golden altar which is before the throne, is sometimes dropped into my heart; and then I can sing,</div>
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<i>Lov’d of my God, for him again</i></div>
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<i>With love intense I burn:</i></div>
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<i>Chosen of thee ere time began,</i></div>
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<i>I choose thee in return.</i></div>
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To have a part and lot in God’s salvation, is the main thing; but to have the joy of it is an additional blessing, which makes our way to the kingdom smooth and sweet.</div>
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<b>Saturday, April 9, 1768.</b> In the evening, while returning from Broad-<i>Hembury (where I dined to-day); </i>and at night after my return hither to Fen-Ottery; I had the comfort of sweet communion with God, and not only enjoyed that peace which the world cannot give, but was favoured with some delightful assurances of God’s everlasting love to me a sinner. I was, like what is said of Naphtali, “satisfied with favour;” even with the favour of him, whose name is as ointment poured forth; whom to know, is life eternal; and whom to converse with, is heaven. The Spirit himself bore witness to my spirit, that I am a child of God, and a joint heir with Christ. Lord, doubtless thou art my Father; O enable me to love thee as such, and to walk worthy of my heavenly pedigree!</div>
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<b>Sunday, April 10, 1768.</b> Did duty, this day, at the churches here, for, I suppose, the last time. In the morning, read prayers and preached at Fen-Ottery; and, in the afternoon, read prayers and preached at Harpford, to a very great congregation. At the latter church, God did indeed open to me a door both of knowledge and of utterance; insomuch that I could not possibly confine myself to my notes; but was carried out with extraordinary enlargement, readiness, and presence of mind; especially<span class="s1"> [[@Page:19]] </span>while speaking of the certain perseverance of God’s regenerate people, and of the utter impossibility of being justified by works. I did not take any leave of my dear people. Farewell-sermons, in my opinion, carry in them such an air of self-importance, that I have long resolved never to preach one again. — Let me rather close my ministry in this place, with, 1. Secretly begging pardon of God tonight, for my manifold sins, omissions, and infirmities, both as a man, and as a minister. 2. I earnestly intreat my gracious Lord to make me thankful for the innumerable mercies I have experienced, since I had the care of these parishes upon me. 3. I pray God to command his efficacious blessing on my weak, sinful, and unworthy labours here; most humbly beseeching him to own the messages of salvation I have delivered from time to time, and to grant that the seed he has enabled me to sow, may be found after many days. 4. I beg him to stay with these that stay, and to go with me when I go from them: that his presence and his blessing may be their portion, my portion, and the portion of those among whom I expect shortly to minister. O thou God of power and of grace! all hearts are in thy hand, and all events are at thy disposal! Set, O set, the seal of thy almighty fiat upon each of these petitions! And supply all our need, according to thy riches in glory by Christ Jesus! Amen, Amen.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, April 12, 1768.</b> At night, the Lord gave me to experience some gracious meltings of heart. How sweet are the humiliations of penitential love! I desire no greater bliss, than to lie at my heavenly Master’s foot-stool, dissolved in wonder, gratitude, and self-abasement.</div>
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<b>Friday, April 15, 1768.</b> Several words of comfort were, this day, at different times, spoken to and sealed upon my heart: particularly these three, “Fear not; I will be with thee.” — “Trust me.” — “I will uphold thee with the right-hand of my righteousness.” At another time these were powerfully suggested to my soul, “Be joyful in the Lord.” To many, all this would appear as the most palpable enthusiasm: and there was a time, when I myself should have thought so too. But blessed be God the comforter, I know what it is to enjoy some degree of communion with the Father, and the Son by him. And, exclusively of this inward ἔλεγχος, which is, to myself, equivalent, in point of mental satisfaction, to ten thousand demonstrations; my experiences of this kind, considered even in the most rational view, cannot, I am well persuaded, be justly counted enthusiastic, or the offspring of a heated imagination; for, 1. They are attended with such a powerful sweetness, and such commanding weight, such satisfactory clearness, and such a perfect consistency with the promises of Scripture, as leave me no cause to doubt of its being indeed the voice of Goo to my soul. 2. My mind, on these occasions, is as absolutely passive as my body can at any time be on hearing any person speak with whom I converse. 3. I argue from events. I can, to the best of my remembrance and belief, truly say, that I never yet have had one promise, nor assurance, concerning temporal things, impressed on me beforehand in a way of communion with God, which the event did not realise; I never, that I know of, knew it fail in any one single instance. I do not say, that a particular assurance, concerning any particular futurity, is always given me beforehand: far from it: but when it has, two unisons never harmonised more exactly than my assurance and the subsequent providence. And, if this has, hitherto, been the case with me in temporal concerns, and matters of Providence; why should similar indulgences from above, respecting spiritual things, and matters of grace, be treated as fanciful?</div>
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At night, in my chamber, the Lord gave me several solid assurances of his future providential goodness to me. I was enabled to know the voice of Him that spake within, and to cast the anchor of faith on what he said. My complacency and satisfaction of soul were equally comfortable and unutterable. O my God, that, which thou hast promised, thou art able also to perform.</div>
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<b>Saturday, April 16, 1768.</b> In the evening, rode to Broad-Hemhury; where, at night, before I went to bed, the Lord gave me some comfortable assurances in secret prayer.</div>
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<b>Sunday, April 17, 1768.</b> In the morning, read prayers and preached, at Broad-Hembury, to a large congregation. I opened <i>(if I may so speak)</i> my spiritual commission, by discoursing from those words, 2 Cor. iv. 5. “We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord.” In the afternoon, read prayers and preached, ibid, to a very numerous congregation, from Jude 3; and baptised two infants. Great was my reason for gratitude and thankfulness to the gracious Author of all good. I was enabled, both parts of the day, to go through the duties of it with much satisfaction and presence of mind; and the word preached seemed to be relished by many, and to be well received by all.</div>
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In the evening, returned to Fen-Ottery; where I read, with great comfort and joy in the Holy Ghost, Mr. Hervey’s sermon on “The Way of Holiness.” In secret prayer, too, before I went to bed, the channel of comfortable intercourse was opened between God and my soul. All weakness and all unworthiness as I am, I have, in Christ, both righteousness and strength: and God, through him, is my portion for ever. In his favour is life: and that life is mine.</div>
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<b>Monday, April 18, 1768.</b> Late to-night, when the rest of the family were retired to rest, the reading of Jenks’s Meditations was much blessed<span class="s1"> [[@Page:20]] </span>learned author would make in the original text, are, for the far greater part, extremely nighty and conjectural; often quite injudicious; and, sometimes, astonishingly daring. Besides, the dead fly of Arminianism mars and taints the whole pot of ointment.</div>
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<b>Thursday, May 5, 1768.</b> My honoured and most dear mother’s birth-day. Gracious God, crown her inestimable life with many years to come; and crown each year with additional grace and redoubled happiness! — After dinner, removed, for good, from Fen-Ottery to Broad Hembury: where, being arrived, I spent the evening in a comfortable frame of soul; humbly trusting, that the God and guide of my life, who fixeth the bounds of our habitations below, will, himself, vouchsafe to be the dwelling place of my soul, here and ever. At night, there was some thunder; during which especially, I was favoured with a sweetly awful sense of God’s majesty and love. How happy, Ο Lord, is the soul which is enabled to wrap itself in thee!</div>
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<b>Friday, May 6, 1768.</b> Enjoyed the peace of God to-day: particularly at night, before bed-time; when my communion with the Father of spirits was near and sweet. I could indeed say, “My Lord, my love, my all!”</div>
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<b>Saturday, May 7, 1768.</b> Was occasionally comforted from above. Blessed, Ο God, unutterably blessed, is the man whom thou choosest, and causest to approach unto thee! Thy secret is with me; and thou hast shown me thy covenant.</div>
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<b>Sunday, May 8, 1768.</b> In the morning, read prayers, and read the Thirty-nine Articles, and the Declaration of Conformity. In the afternoon, read prayers, and preached, to a very large congregation. Between morning and afternoon service, I experienced much of God’s presence, alone in my study, while revising the sermon I intended to preach. My comforts and joys did not only flow as a river, but rose like the waves of the sea. — In the evening read <i>Turretin’s Theologia:</i> true is that great author’s observation, and most happily expressed, “<span class="s2">ἀθανασίας </span><i>fidesest fuiidanientum</i> <span class="s2">εὐθανασίαν</span>.” Read also Dr. Sibbes’s “Soul’s Conflict:” in which the following observations are equally important, certain, and comfortable:</div>
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“The angel troubled the waters, which then cured those that slept in: it is also Christ’s manner to trouble our souls first, and then to come with healing in his wings. — As for crosses, he doth but cast us down, to raise us up; and empty us, that lie may fill us; and melt us, that we may be vessels of glory: loving us as well, in the furnace, as when we are out; and standing by us all the while. — In the worst condition, the church hath two faces: one towards heaven and Christ, which is always constant and glorious; another towards the world, which is, in appearance, contemptible and changeable. — In all storms, there is sea-room enough, in the infinite goodness of God, for faith to be carried with full sail. — Places and conditions are happy or miserable, as God vouchsafeth his gracious presence more or less.—God is nearest to his children, when he seems farthest off.—It is as natural for sin to raise doubts and fears in the conscience, as for rotten flesh and wood to breed worms. Sin, like Achan in the camp, or Jonas in the ship, is that which causeth storms within and without. — Of all troubles, the trouble of a proud heart is the greatest. — The greater part of our troubles we pull upon ourselves, by not parting our care so, as to take upon us only the care of duty, and leave the rest to God; and by mingling our passions with our crosses; and, like a foolish patient, chewing the pills which we should swallow down.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, May 10, 1768.</b> Whilst taking my evening walk, by myself, on the hill that overlooks this village, and surveying the lovely vales, that lie beneath on either hand, the Lord melted me into gratitude and praise. I was not alone; for the great Father of all was with me. — On my return, wrote part of a sermon, after supper, on 2 Cor. v. 8. and my peace and joy in believing were great.</div>
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<b>Sunday, May 15, 1768.</b> In the morning rode to Sheldon; where I read prayers and preached to a very attentive congregation; a small church, but well filled. After service, returned home to Broad-Hembury; where, in the afternoon, I read prayers and preached to a great auditory; and the Lord was with me in an especial manner. Spent the evening very comfortably and profitably, in writing part of a sermon. At night, those words dwelt much upon my mind, and were greatly blest to me, “The Lord is my portion, saith my soul:” through the influence of his good Spirit, I could see and rejoice in God as my portion indeed.</div>
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<b>Sunday, May 22, 1768.</b> Whitsunday. In the morning, read prayers, preached, and administered the holy sacrament to thirty-six communicants. In the afternoon, read prayers, and preached, to a very large congregation. I trust the ordinances were blest to some: but, as to myself, I can only say, that I went through the duties of the day with strength, ease, and presence of mind. I desire to be thankful for this; yet am grieved, that I was not more fervent in spirit, and higher on the mount of divine love. I could ever wish to be</div>
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<i>Like the rapt seraph that adores and burns.</i></div>
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<i>Fain would I mount; fain would I glow;</i></div>
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<i>And loose my cable from below:</i></div>
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<i>But I can only spread my sail;</i></div>
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<i>Thou, thou must breathe the auspicious gale!</i></div>
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<b>Friday, May 27, 1768.</b> Notwithstanding my aggravated sinfulness and my absolute unworthiness, God gave me, this night, to drink of his consolations, as from a river. “Pardon and sanctification,” was my prayer: “Mercy, pardon and salvation,” was the gracious answer.</div>
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<b>Sunday, May 28, 1768.</b> This evening, I was enabled to rejoice in spirit. God gave me not only a good hope in his grace, but the assurance of<span class="s1"> [[@Page:22]] </span>faith. Finished a sermon on Rev. ii. 17. I do think and trust that I can say, that text is verified in me, even me, a sinner. Through the blood of the Lamb, I believe that I shall overcome; I am often fed with the hidden manna of communion with God; there are times when I can set to my seal, that the white stone of absolution and justification is mine; and that I have the new name, the privilege of adoption into the invisible family of God; the consciousness of which is attended with such comfort as is only known to those that receive it. To Father, Son, and Spirit, be all the glory!</div>
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<b>Sunday, May 29, 1768.</b> Read prayers, and preached, morning and afternoon, to a much larger congregation, both times, than I expected, considering the wetness of the weather. God has watered the earth, to-day, with his rain, which has been, for some time, greatly wanted: but the spiritual shower of divine love did not descend upon my soul, until I retired to my study, this evening, after family prayer. I had then some short, but comfortable intercourse with God. An observation which I met with to-day, in reading Downame’s “Christian Warfare,” struck me much; speaking of the Holy Spirit as the sealer of the elect, he asks, “How is it possible to receive the seal, without feeling the impression?” O that I might feel it, more and more!</div>
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<b>June 5. Sunday, 1768.</b> This morning, I read prayers, and preached, to a large congregation; and, in the afternoon, to a very large one. My God was present with me, both times; and, I trust, I have reason to hope, that my labour was not in vain in the Lord. Visited and prayed with farmer William Taylor, twice today. The first time, particularly, I had great freedom of speech, in conversing with him on spiritual matters. He has, probably, not many days to live; and, I would hope, is not without some sense of divine things. Visited also, and prayed with Edward Granger: a very ignorant person, and full of what are called good resolutions, if God should restore him again to health. It is a melancholy thing, that, in a Protestant country, a minister should have so much ignorance to combat with, in most of the common people. I thank thee, Holy Father, if I am, in any measure, enlightened into the knowledge of thee; and beseech thee to make me an instrument, in thy hand, of giving light to others, so far as my little sphere extends. Was, through grace, very comfortable in my own soul, several times this day.</div>
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<b>Thursday, June 9, 1768.</b> In the morning, visited and prayed with farmer William Taylor. One thing, which he said, I took notice of with satisfaction: his, words were, “My pains are nothing to my hopes.” Dined and drank tea at Grange. At night, after my return thence, I was happy in the Lord. I was enabled, from a sense of interest in Christ, to sing those sweet lines,</div>
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<i>Jesus, thou art my righteousness.</i></div>
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<i>For all my sins were thine, &c.</i></div>
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<b>Sunday, June 12, 1768.</b> Read prayers, and preached, what other morning and afternoon. Might I judge of what others felt, by the comfortable enlargement I experienced myself, both parts of the day, I should trust that the arm of the Lord was revealed. The afternoon audience was very great; and God was with me of a truth A door of knowledge, and of utterance, was opened to me: and I humbly hope, God opened to himself a door into the hearts of some that heard, I cannot forbear observing that last night, and today, the Lord gave me some special assurances of his being with me in the discharge of the public duties of this sabbath: and his gracious intimations were verified indeed. The promises of man frequently exceed the performance; but God’s performance exceeds even his promises.</div>
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<b>Saturday, June 18, 1768.</b> All day at home. Wrote several hymns; and, while writing that which begins thus: “When faith’s alert, and hope shines clear,” &c. I was, through grace, very comfortable in my soul; so, indeed, I have been the whole day. Read bishop Hopkins’s Works, which were sent me from Exeter yesterday, with much spiritual improvement. From morning until now, i. e. until eleven at night, I have enjoyed a continual feast within. Christ has been unspeakably precious to my heart, and the blessed Spirit of God has visited me more than once; but the Lord lifted up his standard, and I fell not; the gates of hell attacked me, but did not prevail against the grace of God which was with me. Glory be to God on high, who spreads a table for me in the wilderness, making me to banquet on his love; and who has caused my cup of joy to overflow this day. Yea, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord, and be myself his house, forever.</div>
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<b>Sunday, June 19, 1768.</b> Though somewhat out of order in the morning, God carried me well through the duties of the day. Read prayers and preached, twice, as usual. In the afternoon, the congregation was very large. This has not been such a rejoicing day to my own soul, as yesterday was; but, I trust, the word preached was not powerless altogether. Yet this, I fear, I can truly say, that my lot has never hitherto been cast among a people so generally ignorant of divine things, and so totally dead to God. I know of but three persons, in all this large and populous parish, on whom, I have solid reason to trust, a work of saving grace is begun: and these are, Mrs. Hutchins, farmer William Taylor, and Joan Venn. But this I verily believe, that, if God had not some elect souls to call, he would not<span class="s1"> [[@Page:23]] </span>have sent me hither. When vicar of Harpford, I laboured among that people for a great part of two years, before I could perceive a sensible out-pouring of God’s Holy Spirit upon them: and yet, before I left them, God seemed to have owned my ministry in a very great and unexpected manner. Lord, grant, if it please thee, that I may have the same consolation here!</div>
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<b>Wednesday, June 22, 1768.</b> Calling on Mrs. Hutchin this evening, I found Joan Venn there, from whom I had the comfort of hearing that my unworthy ministry has, in general, been attended with great power to her soul: but, above all, on the 24th of last April, in the afternoon, under that sermon from Psalm xxxii. 1. Lord, carry on thy work in her soul and mine, to the day of Christ!</div>
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<b>Friday, June 24, 1768.</b> Visited and prayed with Sarah Granger. In the evening, had a very comfortable interview with old farmer William Taylor, who, though better than I ever expected to see him, is not, in all probability, far from the invisible world. God enabled me to pray with him extempore; and I never yet saw him so affected. If the Lord gives ability, I think to lay aside forms of prayer, in my future attendance on the sick. I generally find, that prayer, on these occasions, offered up as God gives utterance, is more blest to the souls I attend upon, as well as to my own. Lord, may thy good Spirit, which maketh intercession in thy saints, be ever present with me, to help my infirmities, and teach me to pray as I ought. There are, certainly, particular exigencies, and cases, which few, if any, prescribed forms can reach. With regard to this, and every other part of my duty as a minister, my help standeth in the name of the Lord, who hath made heaven and earth. I only wish that my natural diffidence was less, and my faith greater!</div>
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<b>Sunday, June 26, 1768.</b> A sabbath of joy and blessing. Was somewhat cast down, last night, and early this morning, at the prospect of the public duties lying before me, as I have been, for some days past, troubled with a cough, which grows upon me more and more. But God heard my petitions, and was better to me than my expectations. I read prayers, and preached, in the morning, to a large congregation; and, in the afternoon, to an exceedingly full one; with unusual freedom of utterance, and strength of body, both times. After morning service, visited and prayed with Sarah Granger. In prayer, she was quite melted down, and wept greatly. God gave me both words and matter, suitable to her case. In the evening, visited and prayed with farmer William Taylor; and, on this occasion too, I was enabled to pray with much liberty of speech, and comfort to myself. In the course of our conversation, he told me, that “Being alone yesterday evening, and begging of God to hearken to his supplications, he thought he heard a voice say, ‘I will hear thy prayers:’ I and that his hope of acceptance has been ever since, greater than usual.” How this really was, I dare not say; but would choose to suspend my judgment about it. This, however, I am glad to observe in him, namely, that he is most earnestly desirous of gaining the assurance of his justification. Surely, if the foundation of true faith were not laid in his soul, he would hardly be so desirous of having the top-stone brought forth with joy. At night, finished a short morning sermon, which I began yesterday, on 1 Kings xvii. 21.</div>
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<b>Tuesday, June 28, 1768.</b> In my way to Grange <i>(where I dined and spent the evening),</i> visited Sarah Granger. I found her surrounded with weeping friends and relatives, and herself little more than alive, in point of bodily strength, but perfectly sensible. My mouth was opened to speak much and pertinently to her case; and the Lord gave me very great freedom, enlargement, and warm thin prayer. I hope it was made a season of blessing both to her and to those who were present, as, though grace, it those who were present, as, though grace, it was to myself. She, strongly, and in a most affecting manner, requested me to have an eye over her children when she was dead and gone, and to do what I could in furthering them in the way to the kingdom of God. I assured her, that nothing in my power should be wanting, if I lived, which might conduce to their spiritual or temporal welfare.</div>
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<b>Sunday, June 26, 1768.</b> A sabbath of joy and blessing. Was somewhat cast down, last night, and early this morning, at the prospect of the public duties lying before me, as I have been, for some days past, troubled with a cough, which grows upon me more and more. But God heard my petitions, and was better to me than my expectations. I read prayers, and preached, in the morning, to a large congregation; and, in the afternoon, to an exceedingly full one; with unusual freedom of utterance, and strength of body, both times. After morning service, visited and prayed with Sarah Granger. In prayer, she was quite melted down, and wept greatly. God gave me both words and matter, suitable to her case. In the evening, visited and prayed with farmer William Taylor; and, on this occasion too, I was enabled to pray with much liberty of speech, and comfort to myself. In the course of our conversation, he told me, that “Being alone yesterday evening, and begging of God to hearken to his supplications, he thought he heard a voice say, ‘I will hear thy prayers:’ I and that his hope of acceptance has been ever<span class="s1"> [[@Page:24]] </span>blessing me in the course of the public duties tomorrow. Lord, I humbly say, Amen: I beg that it may be so; I believe that it will be so.</div>
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<b>Sunday, July 3, 1768.</b> Early this morning, took horse for Fen-Ottery; where, being arrived, I went to captain Penney’s. After being with him about half an hour, we walked to church. As we were going, the captain suddenly took hold of my left-arm: I, imagining he might have something particular to say to me, went closer to him; when he fell on me, with all his weight. At first, I supposed he might have stumbled, and lost his footing; but was alarmed when I found him continue motionless in my arms. In less than half a minute, he came to himself; and was as well as ever. It seems, he has, several times before, been struck in a similar manner: and, had I not been by his side, he must have fallen prostrate. O, that he may, in this his day, know the things that belong to his everlasting peace, before they are hid from his eyes! Being come to the church, I read prayers, and then preached, with very great enlargement and liberty both of mind and utterance. If I might judge by the tears, which some shed, under the word preached <i>(and, indeed, I myself did with great difficulty refrain from weeping, toward the conclusion),</i> the message of salvation seemed to be attended with power. After dinner, rode to Harpford; where I read prayers, and preached, to a very great congregation. Though my cough was somewhat troublesome, at intervals, I detained my old audience for fifty minutes, and great was my strength of voice and fervour of spirit; nor less their attention. After drinking tea at farmer Garter’s, I returned to Fen-Ottery; where I lay at captain Penney’s.</div>
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Upon a retrospective view of this Lord’s-day, I find abundant reason to adore, admire, and praise the goodness of God. Mr. Luce’s being at Plymouth, rendered it necessary for me, as a friend, to assist him, by officiating at his churches; and the Lord has been very gracious to me in my unworthy ministrations. I have had also, the additional satisfaction of delivering the tidings of peace and salvation to a people of whom I had, lately, the charge, and whom I affectionately love in the Lord. Thou God of all grace, command thy omnipotent blessing on what they have heard!</div>
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<b>Tuesday, July 5, 1768.</b> Laying at Otterton last night, I took an airing, this morning, with Mr. Duke, in his coach, to Budleigh, Knowle, Tidwell, and Salterton; and the Lord enabled me, at times, to hold comfortable communion with himself by the way.</div>
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<b>Saturday, July 9, 1768.</b> The merciful and gracious Lord was sensibly with me, the latter part of to-day. — “Awake and sing,” and, presently after, “Arise and shine,” were spoken to my soul, from above, with power and sweetness.</div>
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Late at night, God was again pleased to give me the knowledge of a sabbath-day’s blessing to-morrow. Such comfortable and peremptory convictions of God’s future presence and support on a succeeding Sunday <i>(with which I have been so often favoured before-hand). </i>I intend, henceforth, as often as God is pleased to grant them, to distinguish by the name of Saturday-Assurances. Assurances they are indeed; so clear, positive, and satisfactory. I never knew them once fail, nor deceive my trust. I have often been dejected and fearful, at the approached of a sabbath on which I was to minister publicly; and God has frequently, not to say generally, been better to me than my unbelieving fears; but, on those happy days <i>(and, blessed be his name, they have, of late especially, been very many) </i>when previous assurances have been given me of his help and presence on the Sunday following, those assurances have always been made good. The Lord has often disappointed my doubts, and the evil surmisings of unbelief; but he never once disappointed my hope, when he has said, previously, to my soul, “I will be with thee.”</div>
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<b>Sunday, July 10, 1768.</b> God has made this a comfortable sabbath indeed. In the morning, read prayers and preached to a considerable congregation; and, in the afternoon, to an exceeding great one, with great readiness, strength, and presence of mind, each time. In the evening, God delivered me out of a grievous temptation, and saved me from falling by it. Visited and prayed with Sarah Granger. I was heartily glad to find that the Lord has made her sensible of the deceitfulness of her heart. Her fears that she is not sincerely earnest in seeking God, and, to use her own expression, in her “longings after the Lord Jesus;” are to me, favourable signs of her being so. In praying with her, God gave me enlargement of mind, and great freedom of speech. Visited old Mrs. Hutchins, who longs for the assurance of faith; but whose fear of death rather increases than abates: I was enabled to speak a word in season; and trust it was not wholly in vain in the Lord. At night read Polhill’s Treatise <i>(late the property of the excellent Mr. Pearsall),</i> entitled, “Precious Faith.” It is a precious book, and on a precious subject.</div>
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<b>Friday, July 15, 1768.</b> God shone upon my soul greatly this evening.</div>
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<b>Sunday, July 17, 1768.</b> In the morning, read prayers and preached; but not with that sensible comfort which I sometimes enjoy. In the afternoon, Mr. Savery was so kind as to read prayers and preach in my stead. My cough was rather troublesome to-day. After evening service, I was much cheered and refreshed in soul, white reading Mr. Erskine’s sermon, entitled, “Faith’s Plea on God’s Word and Covenant.”</div>
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<b>Sunday, July 24, 1768.</b> In the morning, rode to Sheldon; where I read prayers and preached. Returning thence, I read prayers and preached here, at Broad-Hembury, in the afternoon, with uncommon strength and liveliness, and to the<span class="s1"> [[@Page:25]] </span>largest congregation I have yet seen in this place. Blessed be the God of all comfort, for the distinguished mercies of this delightful sabbath. I was carried, through the duties of it, as on eagles’ wings; and, amidst the vast auditory, the word preached seemed to reach some hearts with power and the demonstration of the Spirit. May it be fastened as a nail in a sure place, and he found after many days!</div>
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<b>Sunday, July 31, 1768.</b> Read prayers, and preached, both morning and afternoon, with strength and some liveliness, but with little spiritual joy.</div>
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At night, was visited with some taste!, of comfort, and with the sweet rays of my heavenly Father’s countenance, in reading Erskine’s sermons. Read likewise, not without sensible improvement, some part of the acts of the synod of Dort; particularly the judgment of the British divines, <i>“De Perseverantiâ Sanctorum.”</i></div>
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<b>Saturday, August 6, 1768.</b> Was much dejected in soul tonight; but, in seeking the Lord, received some comfortable intimations.</div>
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<b>Sunday, August 7, 1768.</b> In the morning rode to Plymtree; where I read prayers, and preached, with very great freedom, strength, and enlargement, to a serious, attentive congregation; some of whom seemed to experience as much of the Holy Spirit’s power as I did. After dining at Mr. Harward’s, I returned to Broad-Hembury: where I read prayers, and preached, to a prodigiously full church, with equal fervour and liberty both of mind and utterance, as in the morning. I can never enough adore thy goodness, O thou God of all grace!</div>
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<b>Monday, August 8, 1768.</b> I cannot help noting, to my shame, and as a mark of my exceeding depravity, that, after all the Lord’s sabbath-day’s mercies to me yesterday, I was never, that I know of, more cold, lifeless, and wandering, than I was in secret prayer last night, just before going to bed. Pardon, dearest Lord, my want of love! Alas, if I loved thee more, I should serve thee better. During the course of the present day, God gave me some very humbling and instructing views of myself. Abstracted from special, efficacious grace, nothingness <i>(or, if anything),</i> utter sinfulness; may be written on all I have, and am, and do. Blessed be God, that I have some ground to hope myself interested in a better righteousness than my own!</div>
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<b>Sunday, August 14, 1768.</b> Read prayers, and preached, morning and afternoon. Was, in general, greatly depressed in soul this day; but not so much during the seasons of public worship, as before and after. In the evening, and at night, my heart aspired to God with groanings that cannot be uttered. Yet, while reading Whitty’s Sermons, I experienced a great degree of divine power, and, now and then, some sweetness; but I could not rejoice in the Lord; nor is it fit that such a sinner always should. Deal with me, O God, as thou wilt: but, O, seal me to the day of redemption, and make me be found in the number of thine at last!</div>
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<b>Thursday, August 18, 1768.</b> At Exeter, to-day, I spent some time with that excellent Christian, good old Mr. Brewer; and, in the course of our conversation, experienced much of the divine presence. Among other matters, he mentioned some particulars, spoken in a charge lately given at the ordination of a young dissenting minister, which I put down here, as they are too good to be lost. “I cannot conclude,” said the old ambassador of Christ, “without reminding you, my young brother, of some things that may be of use to you, in the course of your ministry. I Preach Christ crucified, and dwell chiefly on the blessings resulting from his righteousness, atonement, and intercession. 2. Avoid all needless controversies, in the pulpit; except it be, when your subject necessarily requires it; or when the truths of God are likely to suffer by your silence. 3. When you ascend the pulpit, leave your learning behind you: endeavour to preach more to the hearts of your people, than to their heads. 4. Do not affect too much oratory. Seek rather to profit, than to be admired.” In the afternoon, returned to Broad-Hembury.</div>
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<b>Sunday, August 21, 1768.</b> In the morning, attended my friend, Mr. Savery, to Sheldon; where he read prayers and preached. Returned, by dinner, to Broad-Hembury, where I read prayers, and preached, in the afternoon, to a large congregation, with a spirit and life that seemed to reach the hearts of most present. It was a sabbath-day’s blessing indeed. Surely, nothing but heaven itself can exceed such a golden opportunity! “Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me praise his holy name.”</div>
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<b>Saturday, August 27, 1768.</b> In secret prayer, to-night, God gave me a Saturday-assurance of a blessing tomorrow; and I was enabled to believe that it would be unto me even as the Lord had said.</div>
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<b>Sunday, August 28, 1768.</b> Read prayers, and preached, both parts of the day, with uncommon strength of body, and with vast enlargement of soul. Between morning and afternoon service, being in my study, and comfortably engaged in secret prayer, the Lord visited me with a refreshing shower of divine love: so that my soul was like a watered garden. I never felt so intense a desire to be useful to the souls of my people; my heart was expanded, and burnt with zeal, for the glory of God, and for the spiritual welfare of my flock. I wished to spend and be spent in the ministry of the word; and had some gracious assurances from on high that God would make use of me to diffuse his gospel, and call in some of his chosen that are yet unconverted. — In the afternoon, the congregation was exceedingly great indeed. I was all on fire for God; and the fire, I verily believe, caught from heart to heart. — I am astonished, when I review the blessings of this Lord’s day. That a sinner so vile, so feeble, so ill, and so hell-deserving, should be thus powerfully carried beyond<span class="s1"> [[@Page:26]] </span>himself, and be enabled to preach with such demonstration of the Spirit. Unto me, who am less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that I should preach, among the gentiles, the unsearchable riches of Christ. Lord, let thy word ran, and be glorified! Out of weakness, I am made strong; to thy name alone be the entire praise! And go on, O, go on, to own the counsel of thy unworthiest messenger, and to make the feet of him that sent me sound behind me! Thy mercies to me, both as a man, as a believer, and as a minister, have already been so wonderful, that there is hardly anything too great for me to hope for at thy hands.</div>
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<b>Monday, August 29, 1768.</b> This evening, after my return from Grange, God was very gracious to my soul. My meditation of him was sweet, and he gave me songs in the night season. I had sweet, melting views of his special goodness, and of my own utter unworthiness. The united sense of these two keeps the soul in an even balance. I am then happiest, as well as safest, when my very exultations lay me lowest.</div>
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<b>Wednesday, August 31, 1768.</b> Writing, this afternoon, to Mrs. Browne, of Bath, I could not help enumerating some of God’s chief mercies to me, both in a way of providence and grace, since I saw her last. Among other things, I observed as follows: “God has also given me, in general, a much greater portion of health and strength than usual; and crowned his other mercies, by enabling me to dispense his gospel, for the most part, with a liveliness and fervour which I have seldom experienced for so long a time together. I sing, and ought to sing, of mercy and loving kindness. I can indeed set up my Ebenezer, erect a monument of thankfulness, and inscribe every separate blessing with David’s motto, This hath God done. May his grace lay me low at his footstool, as a Christian; and his almighty Spirit command success on my unworthy labours, as a minister! The Lord go on to make you, madam, happy in his love, and an instrument of extensive good to his people below. In the exercise of the grace he has given you, and in the discharge of the duties he has allotted to you, may your joy and peace flourish as the lily, and your comforts cast forth the root as Lebanon. Amid all your bodily complaints, may his strength be perfected in your weakness, and his right hand sustain you; until, by the blood of atonement, and the faithful guidance of his Spirit, he has brought you to that land of light and rest and joy, where the glorified inhabitant shall no more, in any sense whatever, say, I am sick. I propose, if Providence permit, to set out for London, the latter end of September; where I hope to spend the ensuing winter with my honoured mother: happy should I be, in the meanwhile, to hear, that your health is at least no worse than usual. — I rejoice to find, from several gentlemen of Dorsetshire, that Mr. ____’s health is greatly improved. I have not taken the liberty of writing to him since last March was twelve-month; one reason of which is, lest he should think I had any interested views to serve: which I am sure, is very far from being the case; my present living being vastly more eligible, than any, of which my honoured friend is patron. When you send next to Frampton, you will oblige me in condescending to mention my name, and tendering my most respectful compliments. My affectionate remembrance, and best wishes, attend the three young gentlemen, your nephews; nor can I give a sincerer proof of both, than by praying that they may flourish as olive branches in the courts of the Lord’s house; be made wise unto salvation, by his Spirit; and increase with the increase of God. Mr. and Mrs. Derham have my affectionate compliments: they may wonder, perhaps, that I have not done myself the pleasure of writing to them; but dear Mrs. D. deserves only a scolding letter <i>(if I could find in my heart to send her such an one),</i> for leaving London, last autumn, without seeing me, though she knew I was then in town; and the friend, at whose house she was, and who informed me afterwards of these particulars, was engaged to drink tea with me the very day Mrs. Derham set out for Bath.”</div>
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<b>Friday, September 2, 1768.</b> Received, this morning, a letter from a gospel friend; informing me, that Mr. Morris, of the county of Wexford, in Ireland, whose ministry was, a little turned of twelve years ago, blest to my conversion, is waxing cold in the work of the Lord. Upon which, I thought it a debt due to friendship, and to the cause of God, to write him a letter.</div>
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<b>Saturday, September 3, 1768.</b> God was graciously pleased, this night, to give me an assurance of his blessing on the public work of tomorrow. How tenderly and bountifully does the Father of consolations’ deal with his sinful messengers! Surely, doubting is doubly a sin in me!</div>
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<b>Sunday, September 4, 1768.</b> In the morning rode to Sheldon; where I was enabled to read prayers, and preach, with great comfort to myself, and, I have reason to hope, with power to them that heard. On my return, being part of the way over Hembercombe <i>(more properly, Hembury Common),</i> a most violent storm of rain obliged me to turn back, and take shelter at Richard Lane’s. After half an hour’s stop there, I returned to Broad-Hembury; where, in the afternoon, I read prayers, and preached, with the greatest freedom and fervour, to a most attentive and <i>(in appearance)</i> affected congregation. Wet as the afternoon has proved, a great number of strangers were at church; and, I verily think, the presence and power of God was amongst us. — After service good old Mrs. Hutchings, and Joan Venn, drank coffee<span class="s1"> [[@Page:27]] </span>with me at the vicarage. Our conversation was, for the most part, savoury and comfortable.—Was rejoiced to hear, that the word of God from my lips has been greatly blessed of late, to those two persons; to farmer Copp, and his eldest son; to old Mr. Thomas Granger, farmer Smith, and several other of my parishioners.—Since I came down last into Devonshire from London <i>(i. e. not quite a twelvemonth ago),</i> God has owned my ministry more than ever; particularly, at Harpford, and here. Blessed Lord, the work is thine alone: go on, I most humbly beseech thee, to speak to the hearts of sinners, by the meanest mouth that ever blew the trumpet in Zion! At night, I was much comforted in spirit, in reading bishop Beveridge’s Private Thoughts.</div>
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<b>Monday, September 5, 1768.</b> Had some sweet, refreshing intercourse with God, several times to-day. Upon a review of my experience during the former part of last year, and occasionally in the course of the present, I cannot help observing, that great humiliations are, often, the best preparatives for ministerial usefulness.</div>
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<b>Saturday, September 10, 1768</b>. God refreshed and satisfied my soul to-night, with a Saturday’s-assurance. “I have blessed thee, and will bless thee again.” was the answer I received.</div>
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<b>Sunday, September 11, 1768.</b> In reading prayers, and in preaching, the Lord was signally with me, both parts of the day. In the afternoon, especially, the word, I verily trust, went forth with power and was glorified.</div>
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<b>Saturday, September 17, 1768.</b> Received some satisfactory and comfortable intimations of a Sabbath-day’s blessing to-morrow. Surely, the Lord is indeed good to those that wait for him, and to the soul that seeketh him!</div>
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<b>Sunday, September 18, 1768.</b> Read prayers, and preached, morning and afternoon, with very great fervour, strength, and enlargement. That God is doing his work of grace upon the hearts of some, I have all the proof, both public and private, that the nature of the case will admit of. The Lord hath been to my soul, this day, both in my study, and in the temple, a place of broad rivers and streams.</div>
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This evening, I met with a paragraph from archbishop Usher, which well deserves to be entered here: — “I must tell you,” says the excellent prelate, as my author relates it, “that we do not well understand what sanctification and the new creature are: it is no less than for a man to be brought to an entire resignation of his will to the will of God; and to live in the offering up of his soul continually, in the. flames of love, as a whole burnt-offering to Christ.” I trust, I have experienced and do frequently experience, something of this blessed work, in myself: Lord, make the little one become a thousand!</div>
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<b>Saturday, September 24, 1768.</b> Dined at Ottery, to day, a Mr Dare’s. Our conversation turned partly on historical, partly on religious subjects. We talked, particularly, on the nature of regeneration: and I took occasion, among other things, to observe that the whole process of the new-birth seems included in that threefold conviction, mentioned by our Lord, and declared by him to be the office of the Holy Ghost: namely, Conviction of sin, or of our total depravity by nature and practice; of the impossibility of our being justified by works; of our liableness to the whole curse of the law; and our absolute inability to help, save, or recover ourselves, whether in whole or in part: 2. Conviction of righteousness, i. e. of the perfection, necessity, and efficacy of Christ’s righteousness, in order to justification before God: 3. Conviction of judgment, or that act of the Holy Spirit on the soul, whereby “the prince of this world is judged;” brought, as it were, to the bar; found guilty of usurpation; and dethroned: from which happy moment, the sinner is brought into sweet subjection to God, his lawful sovereign, sin is weakened as to its dominion <i>(in order to its final extirpation),</i> and the regenerate soul is more and more conformed to the image of God’s holiness. So that, I suppose, conviction of sin is only another name for evangelical repentance; conviction of righteousness, for true faith in Christ; and conviction of judgment, a periphrasis for sanctification: which three capital graces are the constituents of regeneration. — Toward evening returned to Broad-Hembury.</div>
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<b>Sunday, September 25, 1768.</b> In the morning, read prayers, and preached; and the power of God appeared to accompany the word spoken. Young Mr. Minifie, in particular, was, I am informed, greatly affected from above. In the afternoon, the congregation was by far the greatest I ever yet saw here; the people flocked like doves to the windows; and such an auditory, and that auditory so solemn and attentive, was a most awfully affecting sight. I read prayers, and preached, with a fervour, strength, and liveliness, which only God could give. His word seems to run like fire which none can quench. Lord, pardon my unworthiness, and accomplish the work of thy grace upon the hearts of them that hear, and on the base, sinful heart of me the feeblest and most undeserving of thy messengers! After evening service, Mary Ellis called on me. If ever a soul was truly convinced of sin, I believe she is so. I endeavoured to administer balm to her wounded spirit, by opening up the promises, and unfolding a little of the unsearchable riches of Christ. This morning, as I was going to church, Joan Venn put a paper into my hands. <b>Last Tuesday</b>, she gave me an account of God’s past dealings with her soul; and I have seldom seen a person, of the truth of whose conversion I had so little cause to doubt. In consequence of our interview that day, she has had some exercises of mind, as I find from this paper, which, omitting what relates to<span class="s1"> [[@Page:28]] </span>my unworthy self, runs thus: “I have had very deep thoughts, and very great trouble, since my last discourse with you. I have looked into my life past; I have ransacked my soul, and called to mind the sinful failings of my youth: and I find it very hard and difficult, to make my calling and election sure. I have earnestly desired to leave no corner of my soul unsearched; and I find myself a very grievous and wretched sinner. I have committed grievous sins, very grievous sins, such sins as are not fit to be named before God’s saints. I have examined my soul by each particular commandment, and find myself guilty of the breach of all, and that in a high degree. And now, when I look upon the glass of the law, and there see my own vileness, I find God’s justice and my own deserts even ready to surprise me and cast me down into the nethermost hell, and that most righteously: but O, see the goodness of a gracious God, in that he hath given me a sight of my sins! And I am inclined to think, that, if God did not work with me, this sorrow could not be. O, sir, I cannot but let you know, that sometimes I have some blessed thoughts of God; and O, how sweet are they to my soul! they are so ravishing, that I cannot possibly declare it; but they are like the morning cloud and early dew, soon gone, and then I am afraid. I have had abundance of trials and temptations in these three years almost; but if I could think that my dear Lord had shed his blood for me, I should not be so much shaken; and, because I cannot apply these things to myself, my heart doth mourn within me. I am greatly that should deceive me. But let the righteous smite me, and it shall be a kindness; and let him reprove me, and it shall he excellent oil which shall not break my head. O, that the Lord Jesus Christ would but sprinkle what I have said with his precious blood! And, now I have opened my soul to you, I most humbly beg and desire your advice concerning these weighty matters; for they are matters which concern my never dying soul. — And I have a high esteem for you: but what is my esteem? The esteem of a poor worm, of a poor sinful creature. O that the Lord would let me see, more and more, my own vileness! Now I have declared to you what the Lord, through grace, hath revealed to me; though I am unworthy to write to such,” &c.</div>
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O, that all my parishioners were, not only almost, but altogether such, in spirit, as this woman! Illiterate she is, and, I believe, chiefly supports herself by spinning: but, when God teaches, souls are taught indeed.</div>
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<b>Sunday, October 2, 1768.</b> Sunday. In the morning read prayers, and preached, to a large and affected auditory: afterwards, I administered the blessed sacrament Last Whitsunday, I had but thirty-six communicants: to-day, I had the comfort of counting sixty-one. It was a season of spiritual joy and refreshment. Duty is pleasant, when God is present.—In the afternoon, read prayers, and preached, to a still more crowded church than ever. Great were my strength and joy in the Lord; and the word, I verily trust, was armed with divine power. Mr. Pratt, of Dalwood, in Dorsetshire, with two other gentlemen of the same place, were here, both parts of the day. — I know not that I ever spent a more comfortable and triumphant sabbath. How is it, O thou God of love, that thy tender mercies should thus accompany and follow the vilest sinner out of hell! That, to me, who am less than the least of all saints, this grace should be given, that I should both experience and preach the unsearchable riches of Christ!</div>
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<b>Monday, October 3, 1768</b>. Good Mr. Bampfield, of Sheldon, called on me this morning; and our conversation, though short, was chiefly on the best subjects. Having been informed, yesterday, that Mr. Rutter, a worthy dissenting minister in Honiton, was seized, a few days ago, with the palsy, and disabled from the work of the ministry, I wrote him a letter.</div>
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<b>December 3, 1768.</b> Saturday. Mr. Bottomley, a worthy person, for whom I have a very great esteem, but who has long been an Arminian, put a paper into my hands, last night, at the Queen’s Arms, after the club broke up, containing some of his chief objections to the Calvinistic scheme. It is a copy of a letter, sent by him, some time ago, to Mr. Romaine; and runs in an humble, modest style; very different from the bigotry and fury, the abuse and wilful misrepresentations, too usually found in the productions of those who pretend, amidst all, to be advocates for universal love in the Deity; but of which they seldom shew any traces in themselves.</div>
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I gave my friend the substance of my thoughts in a letter.</div>
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We have now to take notice of Mr. Toplady, as entering the polemic field; and cannot help viewing him with a mixture of love and admiration. As a writer of true genius he has given scope to his own abilities, and thought as well as read. He was carried a classical taste into subjects which have been too often treated in a dry, jejune, and insipid manner. Though the track has been beaten, he has brought out something new on every subject he has entered upon. His style was chaste, animated, simple and grand, and so varied as suit the different topics he canvassed. He had the peculiarity of spirit to strike off glowing images, and to seize the ridicule of character. The union of strength with elegance and precision characterises his diction, and entitles him to a distinguished rank amongst theological writers.</div>
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There was a singular unhappiness attending<span class="s1"> [[@Page:29]] </span>our author in meeting with an opponent who should have been passed by in silent pity. The person alluded to was the Rev. Mr. John Wesley, a clergyman ordained in the church of England, but whose eccentric principles, and palpable deviations from his ecclesiastical parent, and from what has been received as sound principle in Protestant churches, was a peculiar trait in his character. His popularity as an itinerant preacher, by an assiduous perseverance, procured him a considerable number of votaries, who attached themselves to him as their leader! He published several books extracted from the writings of other men, which also conduced to render him conspicuous. His understanding, strictly speaking, was but ordinary. His imagination was fertile in littleness. The reader is disturbed and disgusted by the indistinctness of his ideas, and the inconclusiveness of his reasonings, the glaring misrepresentations and the plagiarisms of his pages. His arguments have been made up of undigested materials, heterogeneous and repugnant, without either shape or form, the frivolousness of their design and application have been completely destroyed by being only set in array against each other. If a prize had been given to dullness and the most superlative conceit, this gentleman might have started with the certainty of triumph. His resentment towards those who differed from him was intense. His self-importance was astonishing, so that no reprehension given, in ever so mild a way, could instruct him.</div>
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Those who have taken a cursory review, and were unacquainted with the parties, have taken our author’s energy for indignation, his spirit for invective, and his retorts for passion and outrage. We pretend not that he was impeccable, we acknowledge the ebullitions of a little sub acid humour now and then, and that we find him sometimes indulging himself in a flow of witticism, which may appear to the fastidious as bordering upon levity—but what is this but light and shade reciprocally setting off each other? It should be remembered, that those small faults, if they may be called such, are more than compensated by that great solidity and depth of thought, which, like a golden vein, runs through the whole of his writings.</div>
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Controversial divinity has been held in much disrepute, by the ill-informed zeal with which it has been managed by various disputants. It has often produced a spirit of opposition and rivalship. The setting up of a party, as also bigoted attachments to certain ceremonies, or particular modes of thinking. The naked simplicity of truth has been covered under the shreds and patches of declamation. The result of which has been, that the demon of discord has too often found a place in the very sacred sanctuary, so as to break that cement that unites professing Christians to one another. It has had such a disagreeable aspect to those who have been making a serious inquiry after divine knowledge, as to promote a lassitude and indifference towards the investigation of subjects that are of everlasting importance. Therefore, while on the one hand we reprobate every idea of an unbecoming asperity in things truly trifling, and of no consequence, let it not be supposed that, because strong truths prove offensive to weak eyes, a minister ought in any degree, by a wretched, dastardly, pusillanimity, to be so disingenuous as to make any apology, for not contending earnestly for that faith once delivered to the saints, though it should expose him to the un-candid virulence of habitual dissension.</div>
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Mr Toplady, though so strenuous an advocate for the essentials of Christianity, so as not to recede an iota from his principles, was notwithstanding possessed of enlarged and expanded views. His intimacy and friendship with several valuable characters in the dissenting communion, evidently evinced the generous and liberal sentiments of his breast.</div>
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He expressed great esteem for those who were engaged in promoting the Redeemer’s interest among mankind: how much soever they may have differed on unimportant topics, they uniformly found in him the urbanity of a gentleman, accompanied with that suavity of disposition which rendered him agreeable to all who had the happiness of his acquaintance. It was his intention, had his health permitted, to employ his pen in endeavouring to refute opinions advanced by Dr. Priestley, in his book, entitled, “Disquisitions on Matter and Spirit.” Though the doctor’s theological principles and his were as opposite as it were possible to conceive, we cannot help anticipating, that if such an intellectual feast had taken place, from the specimen of their correspondence, we should have seen the truest respect given, by Mr. Toplady, to a great genius, and the moral integrity of the man, without sacrificing truth, by a fulsome adulation, or for one moment countenancing those destructive tenets which degrade the person, and annihilate the work of Christ in the redemption of sinners.</div>
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In the <b>year 1768</b>, six students were expelled the University of Oxford; much investigation relative to the cause took place, and several pamphlets were written on the occasion. It was in some degree the means of reviving an enquiry respecting the Calvinism or Arminianism of the church of England. Had some of the persons concerned in the dispute adhered to observations and facts, it would have saved much superfluous time, in repeating what others have said again and again before them. For it is undeniable, that to be zealously attached to the Articles, Homilies, and Liturgy of the establishment, the epithet of Calvinist is certain to be prefixed to the character who espouses those doctrines. The name of any man, however highly sanctioned, should be of no avail,<span class="s1"> [[@Page:30]] </span>in enforcing or determining the belief of any one. We know of no infallible spiritual optimist: it is to the Scriptures every appeal must be made: nevertheless, so far as Calvin, or any other venerable character appear to embrace, and ardently stand forth to maintain the unadulterated system of the gospel, we have no objection to arrange ourselves under their banners, and to follow them so far as they followed Christ.</div>
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Dr. Nowel peremptorily asserted the Arminianism of the church of England in answer to Pietas Oxoniensis. This called forth the pen of our author, in a treatise published in the year 1769, with the following title: “The Church of England vindicated from the Charge of Arminianism, in a Letter addressed to Dr. Nowel.” He has therein shewn, by the clearest deduction of argument, unconnected with laboured sophistry, or the studied distinctions of the subtitles of the declaimer, on which side the church leans.</div>
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In the same year our author published a tract in English, from the Latin of Jerom Zanchius, with this inscription, “The Doctrine of absolute Predestination stated and asserted, with a Preliminary Discourse on the Divine Attributes, accompanied with the Life of Zanchius.” This piece was finished by Mr. Toplady when he was about twenty years of age, but by a modesty of disposition, bordering upon timidity, it was not announced to the public until nine years after. The translation was undertaken with a view to illustrate the principles of the reformation, and obviate objections that have been urged, that the doctrine of predestination was but partially received by those eminent men, who had then lately left the church of Rome, at the same time the principles are discussed upon Scripture premises, and in analogy with the divine attributes.</div>
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Mr. John Wesley, in a printed sheet of paper, that it might be distributed with the greater facility, endeavoured so impose on the public a few mutilated extracts from the last mentioned pamphlet, signed with the initials of our author’s name; the notoriety of such a weak procedure, if it had been left unregarded, would, in time, have shown the imbecility of the attempt, and proved that uprightness had nothing to do with Mr. Wesley or his principles. It however appeared to Mr. Toplady of consequence enough to call forth his pen on the occasion, in a letter from the press, in the <b>year 1770,</b> “To the reverend Mr. John Wesley, relative to his pretended Abridgement of Zanchius.” A few months after, a second edition was called for, which was enlarged with a postscript to the reverend Mr. Sellon. His sentiments were manly and spirited, conveyed in a close and nervous style.</div>
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This publication was succeeded by a discourse preached at St. Ann’s church, Blackfriars, entitled, “A Caveat against Unsound Doctrines.” Mr. Toplady in this sermon asserts a few of the essential doctrines of revelation that were stigmatised with every opprobrium, he appeals, and avows his principles, from the confession of faith asserted in that church, of which he was a minister. To those who depreciate every system, as the composition of men, liable to prejudice and error, and may therefore advance propositions which the Bible will by no means support, he places the Scripture as the grand object, and enforces the doctrines by arguments, solid and incompressible.</div>
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Mr. Toplady here presents himself before us as a public speaker, in which situation he stood eminently distinguished. A specimen of his judgement and perspicuity, accompanied with a nobleness of sentiment and sublimity of expression, are now before the public. Never did we see a man ascend the pulpit with a more serious air, conscious of the momentous work that he was engaged in. His discourses were extemporary, delivered in the strains of true unadulterated oratory. He had a great variety of talents, such as are seldom seen united in one person: his voice was melodious and affecting; his manner of delivery and action were engaging, elegant, and easy, so as to captivate and fix the attention of every hearer. His explanations were distinct and clear; his arguments strong and forcible; and his exhortations warm and animating; his feelings were so intensely poignant, as to occasion, in some of his addresses, a flow of tears; which, as it were by a sympathetically attraction, have drawn forth a reciprocal sensibility in his auditory. He despised those rhetorical tricks, that captivate and allure the multitude, and yet so numerous have been his assemblies, that the churches where he preached in the metropolis could not contain the hearers. He had an extensive knowledge of the several avenues to the human mind, so as by a sublimity of reasoning to astonish his adversaries. He was no servile imitator of any one, a pleasing originality in his manner was peculiar to himself, and had the appearance of an immediate perception. For to discourse well, something more than learning is wanting; the happy art of expressing with facility and elegance must, in a great degree, be born with the speaker, and is the immediate gift of heaven. A man may be unacquainted with the Grecian and Roman orators, or any preceptive treatise on the subject, and yet enter into the spirit of those great originals. Notwithstanding he was possessed of whatever study and application possessed of whatever study and application could impart, or learning, judgment, and genius could combine, we find him estimating all human attainments as of little consequence in divine things, without the effectual agency of the Holy Spirit. It was this that cast a lustre upon his abilities, and peculiarly characterised him a minister of the New Testament. He had the pleasure to see the work of the<span class="s1"> [[@Page:31]] </span>Lord prosper in his hands, and many souls given him, which will be his crown of rejoicing in the day of the appearance of the Lord Jesus.</div>
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In the <b>year 1771,</b> were published, three sermons, by Mr. Toplady, preached in his church, at Broad-Hembury, <b>Dec. 25, 1770,</b> two of which were entitled, “Jesus seen of Angels,” and the third, “God’s Mindfulness of Man.” In these elegant compositions, there is a novelty of sentiment in matters of the most common discussion: the beautiful pathos with which they abound, must at once excite the notice of the most cursory reader.</div>
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The publication of these discourses was succeeded by a pamphlet, entitled, “Free Thoughts on the projected Application to Parliament, in the <b>year 1771,</b> for the Abolition of Ecclesiastical Subscription.” Our author therein acknowledges himself a defender of subscriptions to articles of faith, and that a community has a right to demand it from those whom they invest with any office in religious concerns, as a fence for keeping principles inimical to their views from entering among them, at the same time he enters his protest, and looks upon it as a grievance, that it should be exacted from the laity, particularly, those who take the academical degrees in law or physic, and asserts, that no body of men whatsoever has any plea to obtrude their opinions upon others. It was his uniform sentiment, that the empire of the mind is peculiar to the dominion of God, in religious concerns; that, to exercise any authority over it, in any case, or in any degree whatever, is a sacrilegious invasion of the divine prerogative, and one of the highest offences that can be committed against God and man. He was a strenuous advocate for Christian benevolence, and for the unrestrained toleration of Protestant Dissenters, with an enlargement of mind, that has a tendency to unite good men of different persuasions into one bond of union, which is the great design of the gospel of Christ. </div>
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We find our author, in the <b>year 1772,</b> engaged again in vindicating the principles he patronised and avowed in his translation of Zanchius, in a publication under the title, “More Work for Mr. John Wesley, or a Vindication of the Decrees and Providences of God, against a Paper called the Consequence Proved.” The decrees of God, or his immanent determination respecting either angels or men, are so inscrutable, that all human researches must utterly fail, when attempting an investigation. The bounds which should circumscribe our thoughts have been most indecently leapt over, so that in endeavouring to account for the divine procedure, and to reconcile what has been supposed to carry an incongruity of principle, have lead the inquirers to canvas the in defeasible prerogative of Deity. The result of which has been, they have found themselves enveloped in a maze of contradiction, and, instead of acknowledging the ambiguity attending human reasoning on such topics, they have substituted frivolous and vexatious objections, contradicting the analogy of divine revelation. We read, that when Christ entered decisively upon the subject, in the 6th chapter of St John’s gospel, some of his disciples peremptorily asserted, that “It was a hard saying,” and asked, “Who can bear it?” Our Lord reiterated the doctrine to them, in the same discourse, and many of them, we are there informed, were so inveterate against him, that they left his presence, “and walked no more with him.” As it was then, so has it been in every period of time. For almost every sect, however they may have disagreed upon other subjects, have unanimously coincided to explode, with a degrading menace, the doctrine of predestination. Persons of atheistical, and deistical principles, with those unacquainted with the Scriptures, have joined in one decisive adherency of opinion; not considering that the counsel of God must stand, and that he will do all his pleasure, his decrees being, like himself, immutable. Mr. Toplady, in this tract, canvasses the objections urged against God’s prescience, with that acuteness of penetration, which carries a pleasing ingenuity in his explanations, clothed with a vigour of language deserving commendation.</div>
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On the <b>12th of May, 1772,</b> our author was appointed to preach a visitation sermon before the clergy of the archdeaconry of Exeter, held at Columpton, which was published a few weeks after under the title “Clerical Subscription no Grievance, &c.” This discourse is richly laden with evangelical treasure, we wish it were put into the hands of every candidate for the sacred ministry, on examination it will be found to contain a choice epitome of sacred truths, enforced to the conscience, by several apposite texts of Scripture, shewn to comport with the fixed principles of the church of England.</div>
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Animated at all times with a laudable ardour for the interest of the established church, he unremittingly endeavoured to retard its decay, and to restore it to its primitive principles, by bringing to appearance the excellent edifice of her doctrines, as erected on marble columns, instead of posts, crumbling to putrefaction. This is particularly exemplified by referring to a work of his in two vols, octavo, published in the <b>year 1774,</b> inscribed “Historic Proof of the Doctrinal Calvinism of the Church of England, &c.” In these volumes, he has shown great classical taste, splendour of erudition and critical acumen, for while he is attending to the merit of others, he is raising a monument of his own abilities. In this history he investigates the principles of many of those great worthies who<span class="s1"> [[@Page:32]] </span>were the agents, under Divine Providence, of bringing in the dawn of the morning, into the dark abodes of barbarism and ignorance. The light they were the means of diffusing has gradually increased, and continued as it proceeded in the midst of intervening clouds, until we in our day have experienced something descriptive of its meridian brightness. To that keenness of understanding so necessary to form a true critic, he has added that perseverance of investigation, and accuracy of research, which were essential in delineating the portraits of those great characters. In the details of the extracts, and examination of their principles, he gives an immediate transcript of the feelings of his own mind, and indisputably proves the Calvinism of the church he was so zealously espoused to.</div>
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In the <b>year 1774,</b> were published by Mr. Toplady, two sermons, one preached at St. Ann’s Blackfriars, <b>May 25th,</b> with the inscription “Free Will and Merit fairly Examined, or Men not their own Saviours.” The other was preached at the Lock Chapel, <b>June 19,</b> entitled, “Good News from Heaven, or the Gospel a joyful Sound,” both delivered in the above year. These two discourses are a desirable acquisition to the lovers of evangelical religion and sound reasoning. The material principles contended for are comprised in narrow limits, their connection and existence are made to appear to depend on one another. The arguments are well distinguished and arranged. The clearness and precision of the definitions are such, that everything extraneous is thrown up, and nothing redundant retained, which is not directly adherent to the points immediately in view. The topics introduced are prosecuted with great judgment, accuracy, and caution, so as to steer clear of Arminianism on one side, and Libertinism on the other.</div>
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In the beginning of the <b>year 1774,</b> a religious pamphlet was printed, called The Gospel Magazine; being a new series of a former work under that name, which was continued statedly. The utility of such a periodical publication must be obvious, for the contents, when executed with discernment, will be various, interesting, instructive, and entertaining, and may be easily purchased by those who have scarcely means to procure a number of books. The above journal was carried on with reputable distinction for a few years. From <b>December 1775, to June 1776,</b> Mr. Toplady was the editor, which enhanced the sale considerably; some of the anonymous parts he composed therein shine conspicuous. He often appeared under the modest character of Minimus. Sometimes he adopted the descriptive signature of Concionator, and a few papers with the initials of his own name. With the assistance of ingenious and learned correspondents, he continued for a time to enrich and diversify this monthly entertainment for the public.</div>
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In the <b>year 1775,</b> Mr. Toplady published an 8vo. vol. entitled, “The Scheme of Christian and Philosophical Necessity Asserted.” In this work he appears not only as a respectable divine, but as a philosopher and a man of taste; he adopts the opinion in behalf of physical and moral necessity, and rescues the doctrine from the pretended charge of irrationality brought against it by the self-taught opinionist; he combats the notion of man’s determining power, and analyses the two component principles with much ingenuity, and with a palatable mixture of science and pleasantry. He vindicates God’s preterition of some of the fallen race, as a Scripture doctrine, at the same time gives his opinion from circumstances, that the far greater part of the human race, are made for endless happiness. To this tract is sub joined a dissertation concerning the sensible qualities of colour, illustrated from the celebrated Mr. Locke. Our author, in his reasonings, by a natural and easy turn, carries persuasion into the heart of the reader without fatiguing him; and though there may not he always an agreement with the peruser and writer in metaphysical or philosophical matters, be must be a very nice critic who is not much taken with many parts of it, as an uniformity of opinion on some speculative subjects is almost impossible.</div>
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It may be remembered, that during the war between Great Britain and a large part of the inhabited globe of America, that the feuds and dissensions of party were carried to a considerable extent, discussions began to take place on subjects which before were held too sacred to be entered upon. It was well known that Mr. Toplady was against those coercive measures that had taken place, and was of opinion that no plea could be set up in justification of the proceedings of this country against the colonies, which could be defended on constitutional principles. He was so explicit as to confess, that the civil rights of mankind rank next in value, dignity, and importance, to the gospel of Christ. That the good Christian, and the good Englishman, are characters perfectly compatible, and that no book is more unfavourable to the claims of arbitrary power than the Bible. His sentiments were, that if ever English liberty perish, its perdition must be owing to want of spirit and of virtue in the English. While they as a people are wise to understand, virtuous to love, and firm to defend the palladium of their own constitution, no weapon formed against it can ultimately prosper. England must be a <i>felo de se,</i> and fall by political suicide; that is, she must tamely resign her throat to the knife of despotism before it be possible for her constitutional existence to fail, and that no such degenerate miscreants may ever arise to dishonour the name and betray the rights of Britain, were his fervent wishes on many public and private occasions. As an enemy to passive obedience, and unlimited<span class="s1"> [[@Page:33]] </span>subjection to civil government, he was exposed to the malicious insinuations of those, who had an ingenuity in misrepresenting his motives, and traducing his character as a Republican in principle; indeed, so ridiculously prejudiced were some of his friends, that it occasioned a suspension of that mutual endearment that apparently subsisted between them in the paths of common amities. It happened very seasonably, that an occasion presented for him to remove the obloquy that had been thrown on his character, by his being appointed to preach at St. Mildred’s Church, in the Poultry, on <b>Friday, Dec. 13, 1776;</b> being a day which was set apart for a general fast. His text was from Phil. iv. 5. The sermon was printed the beginning of the ensuing year. In this discourse, he unequivocally delivered his political sentiments, suitable to the clerical character, expressing a sincere attachment for the English constitution, and to legal liberty, with that subjection to a mild and equitable authority, which was the result of his good sense, prudence, and moderation.</div>
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It was the infelicity of our much loved friend to have a capacious soaring mind, enclosed in a very weak and languid body; yet, this by no means retarded his intense application to study, which was often prolonged until two and three o’clock in the morning; this and the cold moist air that generally prevails in Devonshire, which is extremely pernicious to weak lungs, it is more than probable laid the foundation of a consumption, which terminated in his death. He endeavoured to exchange his living for one in a southern part of the island, but could not obtain it. As his strength and health were greatly impaired, be was advised by the faculty to remove to London, which he accordingly did in the <b>year 1775,</b> and notwithstanding his debilitated frame, he continued to preach a number of sermons in the churches, for the benefit of public charitable institutions.</div>
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Having no settled situation in the metropolis to preach in, and many of his friends being desirous of receiving the advantages of his ministry, they procured, by an engagement with the trustees of the French Calvinist reformed Church, in Orange-street, Leicester Fields, their chapel for divine service, on Sunday and Wednesday evenings. Mr. Toplady accordingly preached his first lecture there on <b>Sunday,</b> <b>April 11th, 1776,</b> from the [[44th of Isaiah, verse the 22d>>Isa 44:22]]. It was on that spot where he closed his ministerial labours, which continued there for the term of two years and three mouths. In his addresses from the pulpit in that chapel, he appeared often, as it were, divested of the body, and to be in the participation of the happiness that appertains to the invisible state. It was not the mechanical process of preaching, regulated by the caprice of the moment; what he delivered he felt, and his feelings proceeded from thoughtfulness, meditation, and experience; an experience illuminated by divine knowledge, which continued copiously increasing the nearer he approached his heavenly inheritance.</div>
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During the time of his residence at Orange-street chapel he published, in the <b>year 1776,</b> a collection of Psalms and Hymns, for public and private worship. The compositions are four hundred and nineteen in number; they are judiciously selected, and some of them altered, where the phraseology is exceptionable. The whole tenor of them is truly evangelical. In an excellent and sensible preface, prefixed to this manual of sacred poetry, Mr. Toplady observes, that, “with regard to the collection, he could only say, that<i> (excepting the very few hymns of his own, which he was prevailed upon to insert),</i> it ought to be the best that has appeared, considering the great number of volumes <i>(no fewer than between forty and fifty),</i> which had, more or less, contributed to the compilation.” A spurious edition has been printed, hut so retrenched and augmented, as to leave no resemblance to the valuable original, which is replete with the richest odours of gospel truth.</div>
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The apprehensions entertained, for some time past, by those who loved him, that his health was on the decline, began now to be confirmed. For, on Easter Sunday, the <b>19th of April, 1778,</b> as he attempted to speak from Isaiah xxvi. 19. “Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body shall they arise,” &c. his hoarseness was so violent, that he was obliged, after naming the text, to descend from the pulpit. But so ardently abounding was he in the ministry of the word, that when the least abatement in his disorder gave him a little strength, he entered upon his delightful work with that alacrity of spirit, as if he was in a state of convalescence: when done preaching, he has been so enfeebled as to create the most exquisite sensibility in the breasts of those who have beheld him. After the above Sunday, he preached four times, and on each occasion his words were to the congregation as if he should never see them more, until he met them in the kingdom of heaven.</div>
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While this great and invaluable Christian was waiting, and earnestly desiring a dismission from the body, and having, as himself expressed, settled all his concerns, respecting both worlds, so as to have nothing to do but die, he received a shaft from a quiver unexpected. Mr. Wesley, and some of his followers, had propagated, that Mr. Toplady had receded from his former principles, and had a desire to protest against them, in the presence of Mr. Wesley. Letters from the country were sent to him, mentioning his recantation, as also some verbal intimations from those who were present, when the intelligence was given. The suggestion of such a report was certainly prematurely made on the presumption that Mr. Toplady was in such a state, that it would not be communicated to him, and if it should, that his tongue and<span class="s1"> [[@Page:34]] </span>pen would be so torpid, as to render him unable to enter his protest against the flagitious turpitude of such a procedure. When the above transactions were rehearsed to him, it rekindled the dying embers that remained. He acquainted his physician with his intentions of going before his congregation again, and to make a solemn appeal in reference to his past and present principles, so as to counteract the baneful effects of party rage, and misrepresentation, concealed under the robe of virtue, or Christian purity. He was informed, that it would be dangerous in him to make the attempt; and, that probably he might die in the execution of it. He replied, with his usual magnanimity, “A good man once said, he would rather wear out, than rust out, and I would rather die in the harness, than die in the stall.” On <b>Sunday, June the 14th,</b> he came from Knightsbridge, and, after a sermon by his assistant, the Rev. Dr. Illingworth, he went up into the pulpit, to the in expressible surprise of his people, and made a short, but affecting exhortation, from the [[2nd Epistle of Peter, chap. i. ver. 13, 14>>2 Pet 1:13-14]]. “Yea, I think it meet, as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up, by putting you in remembrance: knowing that shortly I must put off this my tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus Christ hath showed me.” When mentioning the sensible peace he was a recipient of, and the joy and consolation of the Holy Spirit, that he participated of for several months past, and the desirable expectation, that in a few days he must resign his mortal part to corruption, as a prelude to his seeing the King in his beauty; the effect this had upon his auditory cannot be described or anticipated; but must he seen and felt, to be justly related. He closed his address, respecting the purport of his coming there, in substance as follows, which was printed in a week after, entitled, “The Rev. Mr. Toplady’s Dying Avowal of his Religious sentiments:”</div>
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“Whereas, some time since, a wicked, scandalous and false report was diffused, in various parts of this kingdom, by the followers of Mr. John Wesley; purporting, that I have changed some of my religious sentiments, especially such of them as relate more immediately to the doctrines of grace, I thought it my indispensable duty, on the Sunday after I received this information, which was the <b>13th of June last,</b> publicly to declare myself, from the pulpit in Orange-street Chapel, to the following effect: ‘It having been industriously circulated, by some malicious and unprincipled persons, that during my present long and severe illness, I expressed a strong desire of seeing Mr. John Wesley before I die, and revoking some particulars relative to him, which occur in my writings: Now, I do publicly and most solemnly aver, that I have not, nor ever had, any such intention or desire; and that I most sincerely hope my last hours will be much better employed than in conversing with such a man.’ To which I added: ‘so certain and so satisfied am I, of the truth of all that I have ever written; that, were I now sitting up in my dying bed, with a pen and ink in my hand, and all the religious and controversial writings I ever published <i>(more especially those relating to Mr. John Wesley, and the Arminian controversy), </i>whether respecting facts or doctrines, could at once be displayed to my view, I should not strike out a single line relative to him or them.’</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
“Matters rested thus, when I received a letter, dated <b>July 17, 1778,</b> from a friend who lives near a hundred miles from town, in which letter is the following passage: ‘I cannot help feeling an uncommon emotion and surprise at the report that you have recanted all that you have written and said against John Wesley, and many like things; and that you declared as much, to your congregation, a few weeks ago I was told this, by two persons, who said, they were there present at the time. How am I amazed at such falsehoods! The party, and name, and character, that are established by lies, have no good foundation, and therefore can never stand long.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“This determined me to publish the present address to the religious world. I pray God to give the perfect liars grace and repentance to the acknowledgment of the truth. And may every blessing, of the upper, and of the nether springs, be the portion of those who maintain, who experience, and adorn, the glorious gospel of the grace of God!</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Should any hostile notice be taken of this paper, I do not intend to make any kind of reply. I am every day in view of dissolution And, in the fullest assurance of my eternal salvation <i>(an assurance which has not been clouded by a single doubt, for near a year and a half last past)</i> am waiting, looking, and longing for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
“I once intended subjoining to this paper, the specific outlines of my religious sentiments; but on farther reflection, I believe it may be more expedient to refer the reader to the several writings I have published: every one of which I do hereby, as a dying man, ratify and declare to be expressive of my real religious principles, from any one of which principles I have never varied, in the least degree, since God enlightened me into the clear knowledge of his truth; which is now within a few weeks of twenty years ago. </div>
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<br /></div>
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“I was awakened in the month of <b>August, 1755,</b> but not, as has been falsely reported, under Mr. John Wesley, or any preacher connected with him.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Though awakened <b>in 1755,</b> I was not led<span class="s1"> [[@Page:35]] </span>into a full and clear view of all the doctrines of grace, till the <b>year 1758, </b>when, through the great goodness of God, my Arminian prejudices received an effectual shock, in reading Dr. Manton’s Sermons on the [[xvii<sup>th</sup> of St. John>>Jn 17]].</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
“I shall remember the <b>years 1755, and 1758,</b> with gratitude and joy, in the heaven of heavens, to all eternity.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
A. M. TOPLADY.</div>
<div class="p3">
Knightsbridge, <b>July 22, 1778.</b></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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We have followed this ambassador of Christ in his public character, and have now to behold him in the closing scene of life immoveable and unappalled. The doctrines of the gospel which he so sweetly accented, and which were his constant theme in the house of his pilgrimage, proved his support and comfort, when his fabric was gradually falling to dissolution. His divine master was pleased to confer a peculiar honour upon him in his last hours, by sustaining him in that trying conflict, and by giving him a view by faith of the glory that awaited him. The Psalmist’s words were verified in him, That “light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart.” How does the lustre of what men call great, and the splendid actions by which they are dazzled, appear to Jade, and prove to be as illusive shadows, when we view a believer in his dying moments, felicitated in the bright and unclouded prospect of eternal felicity!</div>
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<br /></div>
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We shall here introduce a few extracts from a small narrative, published a short time after his death. Some of his observations and remarks were, by a few persons, who were present, committed to writing, that they should not be effaced from the memory, and for the satisfaction of others.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In conversation with a gentleman of the faculty, not long before his death, he frequently disclaimed, with abhorrence, the least dependence on his own righteousness, as any cause of his justification before God, and said, that he rejoiced only in the free, complete, and everlasting salvation of God’s elect by Jesus Christ, through the sanctification of the Holy Spirit. We cannot satisfy the reader more than by giving this friend’s own relation of intercourse and conversation. “A remarkable jealousy was apparent in his whole conduct, for fear of receiving any part of that honour which is due to Christ alone. He desired to be nothing, and that Jesus might be all, and in all. His feelings were so very tender upon this subject, that I once undesignedly put him almost in an agony, by remarking the great loss, which the church of Christ would sustain by his death, at this particular, juncture. The utmost distress was immediately visible in his countenance and he exclaimed to this purpose: What; by my death? No! By my death? No, — Jesus Christ is able, and will, by proper instruments, defend his own truths. — And with regard to what little I have been enabled to do in this way, not to me, not to me, but to his own name, and to that only, be the glory.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Conversing upon the subject of election, he said that God’s everlasting love to his chosen people; his eternal, particular, most free, and immutable choice of them in Christ Jesus; was without the least respect to any work, or works, of righteousness, wrought, or to be wrought, or that ever should be wrought, in them or by them: for God’s election does not depend upon our sanctification, but our sanctification depends upon God’s election and appointment of us to everlasting life. At another time he was so affected with a sense of God’s everlasting love to his soul, that he could not refrain from bursting into tears.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
“The more his bodily strength was impaired, the more vigorous, lively, and rejoicing, his mind seemed to be. From the whole tenor of his conversation during our interviews, he appeared not merely placid and serene, but he evidently possessed the fullest assurance of the most triumphant faith. He repeatedly told me, that he had not had the least shadow of a doubt, respecting his eternal salvation, for near two years past. It is no wonder, therefore, that he so earnestly longed to be dissolved and to be with Christ. His soul seemed to be constantly panting heaven-ward; and his desires increased, the nearer his dissolution approached. A short time before his death, at his request, I felt his pulse; and he desired to know what I thought of it? I told him, that his heart and arteries evidently beat <i>(almost every day)</i> weaker and weaker. He replied immediately with the sweetest smile upon his countenance, Why, that is a good sign, that my death is fast approaching; and, blessed be God, I can add, that my heart beats every day stronger and stronger for glory.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
“A few days preceding his dissolution, I found him sitting up in his arm chair, and scarcely able to move or speak. I addressed him very softly, and asked, if his consolations continued to abound, as they had hitherto done? He quickly replied; O, my dear sir, it is impossible to describe how good God is to me. Since I have being sitting in this chair this afternoon <i>(glory be to his name I)</i>. I have enjoyed such a season, such sweet communion with God, and such delightful manifestations of his presence with, and love to my soul, that it is impossible for words, or any language, to express them. I have had peace and joy unutterable; and I fear not, but that God’s consolations and support will continue. But he immediately recollected himself, and added. What Lave I said? God may, to be sure, as a sovereign, hide his face and his smiles from me; however, I believe he will not; and if he should, yet still will I trust in him: I know I am safe and secure; for his love and his covenant are everlasting.”</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
To another friend, who, in a conversation<span class="s1"> [[@Page:36]] </span>with him upon the subject of his principles, had asked him, whether any doubt remained upon his mind respecting the truth of them; he answered; Doubt, sir, doubt I Pray, use not that word, when speaking of me. I cannot endure the term; at least, while God continues to shine upon my soul, in the gracious manner he does now: not <i>(added he)</i> but that I am sensible, that while, in the body, if left of Him, I am capable, through the power of temptation, of calling into question every truth of the gospel. But, that is so far from being the case, that the comforts and manifestations of his love are so abundant, as to render my state and condition the most desirable in the world. I would not exchange my condition with anyone upon earth. And, with respect to my principles; those blessed truths, which I have been enabled in my poor measure to maintain, appear to me, more than ever, most gloriously indubitable. My own existence is not, to my apprehension, a greater certainty.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
The same friend calling upon him a day or two before his death, he said, with hands clasped, and eyes lifted up and starting with tears of the most evident joy, O, my dear sir, I cannot tell you the comforts I feel in my soul: they are past expression. The consolations of God to such an unworthy wretch are so abundant, that he leaves me nothing to pray for, but a continuance of them. I enjoy a heaven already in my soul. My prayers are all converted into praise. Nevertheless, I do not target, that I am still in the body, and liable to all those distressing fears, which are incident to human nature, when under temptation and without any sensible divine support But so long as the presence of God continues with me in the degree I now enjoy it, I cannot but think that such a desponding frame is impossible. All this he spake with an emphasis, the most ardent that can be conceived.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Speaking to another particular friend upon the subject of his “dying avowal,” he expressed himself thus, My dear friend, those great and glorious truths which the Lord, in rich mercy, has given me to believe, and which he has enabled me <i>(though very feebly)</i> to stand forth in the defence of, are not <i>(as those, who believe not or oppose them, say)</i> dry doctrines, or mere speculative points. No. But, being brought into practical and heart-felt experience, they are the very joy and support of my soul; and the consolations, flowing from them, carry me far above the things of time and sense. Soon afterwards he added: So far as I know my awn heart, I have no desire but to be entirely passive; to live, to die, to be, to do, to suffer, whatever is God’s blessed will concerning me; being perfectly satisfied, that, as he ever has, so he ever will do that which is best concerning me; and that he deals out, in number, weight and measure, whatever will conduce most to his own glory, and to the good of his people.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Another of his friends, mentioning likewise the report that was spread abroad of his recanting his former principles, he said, with some vehemence and emotion, I recant my former principles! God forbid, that I should be so vile an apostate. To which he presently added, with great apparent humility, And yet that apostate I should soon be, if I were left to myself.</div>
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To the same friend, conversing upon the subject of his sickness, he said: Sickness is no affliction; pain no curse; death itself no dissolution.</div>
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<br /></div>
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All his conversations, as he approached nearer and nearer to his decease, seemed more and more happy and heavenly. He frequently called himself the happiest man in the world O!<i> (says he)</i> how this soul of mine longs to be gone! Like a bird imprisoned in a cage, it longs to take its flight. O, that I had wings like a dove, then would I flee away to the realms of bliss, and be at rest for ever! O, that some guardian angel might be commissioned; for I long to be absent from this body, and to be with my Lord forever. Being asked by my friend, if he always enjoyed such manifestations? he answered: I cannot say, there are no intermissions; for, if there were not, my consolations would be more and greater than I could possibly bear; but, when they state, they leave such an abiding sense of God’s goodness, and of the certainty of my being fixed upon the eternal rock Christ Jesus, that my soul is still filled with peace and joy.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
At another time, and indeed for many days together, he cried out. O, what a day of sun-shine has this been to me! I have not words to express it. It is unutterable. O, my friends, how good is God! almost without interruption, his presence has been with me. And then, repeating several passages of Scripture, he added, What a great thing it is to rejoice in death! Speaking of Christ, he said, His love is unutterable! He was happy in declaring, that the [[viii<sup>th</sup> chapter of the epistle to the Romans, from the 33d to the end of the six following verses>>Rom 8:33-39]], were the joy and comfort of his soul. Upon that portion of Scripture he often descanted with great delight, and would be frequently ejaculating, Lord Jesus! why tarriest thou so long! He sometimes said, I find as the bottles of heaven empty, they are filled again; meaning, probably, the continual comforts of grace, which he abundantly enjoyed.</div>
<div class="p3">
When he drew near his end, he said, waking from a slumber; O, what delights! Who can fathom the joys of the third heaven? And, a little before his departure, he was blessing and praising God for continuing to him his understanding in clearness; but <i>(added he in a rapture)</i> for what is most of all, his abiding presence, and the shining of his love upon my soul. The sky <i>(says he)</i> is clear; there is no cloud: Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1">[[@Page:37]]</span> Within the hour of his death, he called his friends and his servant, and asked them, if they could give him up? upon their answering in the affirmative, since it pleased the Lord to be so gracious to him, he replied; O, what a blessing it is, you are made willing to give me up into the hands of my dear Redeemer, and to part with me it will not be long before God takes me; for no mortal man can live, <i>(bursting, while he said it, into tears of joy)</i> after the glories, which God has manifested to my soul. Soon after this he closed his eyes, and found <i>(as Milton finely expresses it).</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>____________A death like sleep,</i></div>
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<i>A gentle wafting to immortal life.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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On <b>Tuesday August 11th, 1778,</b> in the 38th year of his age.</div>
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<br /></div>
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While rehearsing these particulars, we cannot help laying down the pen to drop a tributary tear to the revered memory of this highly respectable minister of Jesus Christ. _______ Yet a little time and all painful recollection and sensations of this kind will be at an end, we shall have no more occasion to mark the vicissitudes of human affairs, nor to reflect on the nature and mixture of all earthly enjoyments; the transient duration of mortality shall never more be experienced, for the lustre of all that is great and lovely in the human character will be absorbed in the presence and in the perfect fruition of the adorable Trinity.</div>
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<br /></div>
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On <b>Monday, August the 17th, 1778,</b> at four o’clock in’ the afternoon, his remains were brought from Knightsbridge, to Tottenham Court Chapel, to be interred. Though the time was kept as private as possible, there were notwithstanding, several thousands of persons present on the solemnity. It was his particular request that no funeral sermon should be preached, he desired to slip into the tomb unnoticed and unregarded. His soul disdained to borrow posthumous fame. He had no wish to have his memory perpetuated by those little arts and finesses so often practised; he knew that his record was on high, and that is name was written in the Lamb’s Book of Life. He sought for no eulogium while living, and any panegyrics bestowed upon him when his course was run, he knew could be of no service, and that they are too often justly construed to proceed from pride, vanity, and weakness.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The Rev. Mr. Rowland Hill, prior to the burial service, could not refrain from innocently trespassing upon the solicitation of his departed friend, by addressing the multitude on the solemn occasion, and embraced the opportunity of affectionately declaring the love and veneration he felt for the deceased. The beautiful simplicity of his pathos, and the incomparably exquisite sensibility he shewed, were more than equivalent to the most studied harangue, furnished with all the trappings of meretricious ornaments. The funeral obsequies were read by Dr. Blingworth, and concluded with a suitable hymn. The casket which held this intrinsic jewel now lies entombed in the family grave of Mr. Hussey, 13 feet deep, under the gallery opposite the pulpit in the above chapel, whereon is fixed a plain stone, with only his name and age inscribed. His clay tenement rests there until the morning of the resurrection, when the trump of God, and the voice of the archangel, shall call forth his sleeping dust to join the disembodied spirit, now in the realms of bliss and glory.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The precious remains of this good man had not been long in the earth, when Mr. Wesley publicly asserted that he died blaspheming, and in the horror of despair; such unparalleled virulence of conduct undoubtedly exposed the personal enmity that rankled in Mr. Wesley’s breast towards Mr. Toplady. Men have a natural propensity to divide in opinion, an aberration from the purest system may attend the path of the most cautious traveller, and no impeachment whatever may be charged upon his benignity or integrity; but when materials, or facts of an important tendency, are accessible, and these are reserved or distorted by an interested falsehood, a display of conduct so mischievous in its consequence must lose all pretensions to veracity, and be too obvious to need any comment.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Sir Richard Hill, a character of eminence, who has for many years appeared as a disinterested volunteer in behalf of evangelical religion, and whose excellent virtues have at the same time adorned his Christian profession, stood forward, unsolicited, and detected the malignant conduct of Mr. Wesley, on this occasion, in an anonymous letter in a morning paper, and in a few weeks after he addressed him again in a small pamphlet, signed with his own name, and acknowledged himself the writer of the former. As these particulars are of material consequence in this narration, we shall not make any circuitous apology for inserting them here verbatim, with only this observation, that Mr. Wesley made no reply in any way.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Copy of a Letter addressed to the Rev. John Wesley, which appeared in the General Advertiser on the eight day of October last.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Rev. Sir,</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
I give you this public notice, that certain persons who are your enemies, perhaps only because you keep clear of their Calvinistic doctrines, have thought proper to affirm, that you and some of your preachers, have been vilifying the ashes, and traducing the memory of the late Mr. Augustus Toplady. Nay, it was even positively alleged, that you told Mr. Thomas Robinson of Hilderthorpe, near Bridlington, in Yorkshire, and the Rev. Mr. Greaves, curate to Mr. Fletcher of Madeley, that the account published concerning Mr. Toplady’s<span class="s1"> [[@Page:38]] </span>death was a gross imposition on the public; for that he died in black despair, uttering the most horrible blasphemies; and that none of his friends were permitted to see him. All which was repeated at Bridlington, by one of your preachers, whose name is Rhodes, who further compared Mr. Toplady’s case to the awful one of Francis Spira; and added, “that the dreadful manner in which he died, had caused a woman who attended him to join your societies.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Now, sir, as many living, respectable witnesses can testify that Mr. Toplady departed this life in the full triumph of faith, and that the account published to the world of the state of soul he was in during his long illness, and at the hour of dissolution, was strictly and literally a true one, you are earnestly requested, for the satisfaction of your friends, thus publicly to assure the world, that you never advanced anything of this sort to Mr. Robinson, Mr. Greaves, or to any other person; or else that you will produce your authority for your assertions; otherwise, it is to be feared, that your own character will suffer much, for having vented a most gross, malicious falsehood against a dead man who cannot answer for himself, in order to support your own cause and party.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>I am, Rev. Sir,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Your sincere well-wisher,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>VERITAS.</i></div>
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<i></i><br /></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Letter to the Rev. Mr. John Wesley.</i></div>
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<i>Hawkstone, Nov. 29, 1779.</i></div>
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<i>Rev. Sir,</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
The cause of my thus publicly addressing you, is owing to an information I received that you wished to know who was the author of a letter which appeared in the General Advertiser, on <b>Friday the 8th of October last,</b> wherein were some queries put to you concerning certain reports Which it was supposed you had spread, relative to the illness and death of the late Mr. Augustus Toplady. I was further given to understand, that you had declared your intention of answering that letter, if the writer would annex his name to it. This being the case, though no names can at all alter facts, yet as I really wish to be rightly informed myself, and as the reports which have been propagated about Mr. Toplady have much staggered and grieved many serious Christians, I now <i>(under my real signature)</i> beg with all plainness, and with no other design than that the real truth may be known, again to propound those questions to you which were put in that letter, of which I confess myself to have been the sole author. And as I hear you have been pleased to call the letter a scurrilous one, I should be glad if you would point out to me wherein that scurrility consists; for though it was anonymous, I am not in the least conscious that there was anything in it unbecoming that respect which might be due to a gentleman of your venerable age and function; and when you have shewn me wherein I have been culpable, I shall then readily and submissively ask your pardon. The letter itself I shall annex to this. The queries contained in it maybe reduced to the following.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
1st. Did. you, sir, or did you not tell Mr. Thomas Robinson, of Hilderthorpe, near Bridlington in Yorkshire, that Mr. Toplady died in black despair, blaspheming; and that a greater imposition never was imposed on the public than that published by his friends relative to his death?</div>
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<br /></div>
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2dly. Did you ever tell the same in substance to the Rev. Mr. Greaves, curate to Mr. Fletcher of Madeley, or to any other person? </div>
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<br /></div>
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3dly. Did you, or did you not say, that none of Mr. Toplady’s friends were permitted to see him during his illness?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
I now beg leave to tell you, that the cause of my offering these queries to you was owing to the following letter, which I received just before, from a kind friend, and worthy minister of the gospel at Burlington <i>(or Bridlington)</i> in Yorkshire:</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>“Honoured and dear friend,</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
“Grace, mercy and peace be multiplied unto you from the Father, and from Jesus Christ, by the blessed Spirit. On the <b>21st day of August, 1779,</b> I received from Mr. Thomas Robinson, of Hilderthrope, the following awful, and no less shocking, account respecting the death of Mr. Toplady. He said, Mr. J. Wesley told him, that Mr. Toplady died in black despair, blaspheming; and that a greater imposition was never imposed on the public, than that published by his friends relative to his death. He added also, that none of his friends were permitted to see him in his illness; and that one of Mr. John Wesley’s preachers, whose name is Rhodes, did on the on the <b>20th instant,</b> declare, that Mr. Toplady’s case was equal to that of Francis Spira; and that the servant who waited upon him did, after his death, join Mr. Wesley’s societies, signifying that there was something very awful. Now, dear Sir, as I know nobody more capable of giving me some satisfaction respecting this heart-affecting report than what you are; please to excuse the liberty I have taken in troubling you; wishing and beseeching you, to give me if you can, a true account of this gloomy story, and you will very much oblige one who wishes you the peaceable enjoyment of every temporal and spiritual good. Believing, nevertheless,<span class="s1"> [[@Page:39]] </span>that the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are his. The redeemed of the Lord shall return and come with singing unto Zion, &c.</div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>“Dear Sir, believe me to be</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>your sincere, affectionate friend,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>and humble servant, in the gospel of Christ Jesus our Lord,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>J. GAWKHODOER.”</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Bridlington, August 30, 1779.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
Methinks, sir, this letter breathes the language of real Christianity, and of a heart deeply concerned and interested in the welfare of one from whose works I know, that Mr. G. had received the highest delight and satisfaction. He had read the account of Mr. Toplady’s illness and death; he rejoiced to see the doctrines of the gospel confirmed and established in the experience of that eminent servant of Jesus Christ; and his own heart found strong consolation whilst he meditated on the triumphant victory which his late brother in the ministry had obtained over the king of terrors, through faith in our glorious Immanuel.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Amidst these views and meditations, he is told, by a pious friend and neighbour of his, that Mr. John Wesley had assured him, “that Mr. Toplady died blaspheming, in black despair; that none of his friends were permitted to see him in his illness; and that the account of his death, published by his friends, was a gross imposition on the public; and that a preacher of Mr. Wesley’s had moreover asserted the same, with this farther circumstance, that the person who attended Mr. Toplady in his illness, struck with horror at his awful departure, had joined the Methodists.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Overwhelmed with grief and amazement at this declaration, and the authority produced in defence of it <i>(an authority which he dares not call in question),</i> he writes to me to be farther informed of the matter. Upon the receipt of this letter, I thought it best to go to the fountain head, in order to investigate the truth, and therefore called upon you, in the public papers, to know whether you did, or did not, assert the things which are charged upon you. If you did not assert them, Mr. Robinson, Mr. Greaves, and several other persons, have treated you in a manner the most injurious, by making use of the sanction of your name for the propagation of a most wicked and malicious lie. If you did assert them, either you had, or had not, authority for your assertions; if you had no authority, then you, yourself, must have been the inventor of them. If you had authority, then you must know whence that authority came. In order, therefore, to exculpate your own character before the world, be pleased now to name that authority. Tell us how you became so well acquainted with what passed in Mr. Toplady’s sick chamber, and on his dying-bed, when even his most dear and intimate friends were not permitted to see him? Did his nurse, Mrs. Sterling, who attended him, and was with him when he died, communicate this intelligence? I hear she has called upon you on purpose to vindicate herself from the charge of any such assertion; and is ready to declare to all the world, that throughout Mr. Toplady’s long illness, to the hour of his dissolution, prayer and praise, joy and triumph in the God of his salvation, were the continual employment of his lips and heart. But as your conduct will probably make one of the many friends who were permitted to see Mr. Toplady in his illness think it necessary to give the public some farther particulars relative to the state of his soul in that trying season; I shall only, in this place, present you with a short abstract, from a letter which I received from a worthy clergyman, a friend of Mr. Toplady’s, soon after his departure; his words are as follow:</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
“You will be pleased with the two following remarks made by Mr. Toplady, not long before his death: ‘To a person interested in the salvation of Christ, sickness is no disease, pain no affliction, death no dissolution.’ The other was an answer to Doctor Gifford, in consequence of the Doctor’s expressing hopes that Mr. Toplady might recover, and be again useful, Mr. Toplady heard what his friend had to say, and then expressed himself nearly in the following words: ‘I believe God never gave such manifestations of his love to any creature, and suffered him to live.’” — Thus far, my friend.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
We can now look to no other source whence these reports may have flowed, than to the most deliberate malice of Mr. Toplady’s avowed foes, among whom, notwithstanding your continual preaching about “love, love; peace, peace, my brethren,” I fear you are chief. Till therefore you produce your authority for what you told Mr. Thomas Robinson and others, I have full right, nay, I am absolutely necessitated to fix upon you, rev. sir, as the raiser, and fabricator of this most nefarious report; which I cannot look upon merely as a common falsity, but as a malicious attempt to invalidate and set aside the testimony which God, the eternal Spirit himself, was pleased to bear to his own truth, and to his own work, upon the heart of a dying believer; and even turn that testimony into the blasphemies of Satan. And in this view of it, how far short it falls of the unpardonable sin against the Holy Ghost, must be left to your awful consideration.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
When on Jane Cowper, a person belonging to your societies, died, you were ready enough to give your imprimatur and recommendation to every wild flight of fancy she uttered, as “all strong sterling sense, strictly agreeable to sound reason.” “Here, <i>(says Mr. Wesley in his preface) </i>are no extravagant flights, no mystic reveries, no unscriptural enthusiasm. The sentiments are all just and noble.” The cause is plain. The Lord <i>(it seems)</i> had promised this Jane Cowper, “that Mr. J. Wesley’s latter works should exceed his former,” therefore she must be canonised; but Mr. Toplady, in his dying avowal, had borne his open testimony both against Mr. Wesley and his principles, therefore, “the devil himself could not have invented anything worse than what he bad uttered,” and he must be sent blaspheming and despairing into the bottomless pit. Behold! Sir, what self-partiality and a desire to make known your own importance leads you to. The like spirit runs throughout all your publications, whether sermons, journals, appeals, preservatives, Arminian magazines, &c. &c. in all of which, it is too evident, that the grand design in view is that of trumpeting forth your own praises. Tedious and fulsome as this appears in the eyes of men of sense and judgment, yet a gentleman of Mr. Wesley’s cunning and subtlety can, hence, suck no small advantage, as there are multitudes amongst your own people who, through a blind attachment to your person, and a no less blind zeal to promote your interests, look upon it as perfectly right and proper; and are at all times, and upon all occasions, ready to pay the most implicit obedience to your <i>ipse dixits</i>, and to believe, or disbelieve, just as you would have them. But I have nothing to do with such bigots: to endeavour to open their eyes, by argument, would be as vain as to attempt to wash the Æthiopian white, or to change the leopard’s spots. There are, however, many persons of good sense and true piety in your societies, who, in spite of all your artifices, begin to form a judgment of you according to facts. It is for the benefit of such persons, as well as to vindicate the memory of a departed saint from your foul aspersions, that you are presented with this epistle; though I confess I was some rime before I could bring myself to write or print it. I considered, that a misjudging, prejudiced world would be happy to take advantage from its contents, and to cry “There, there, so would we have it;” “the Methodists are all fallen together by the ears, and are discharging their artillery at one another.” I considered again, that as to expose you was not my motive, so to bring you to any submission was never in human power. I had well-nigh resolved to be silent.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
On the other hand, I perceived that the sealing testimony which God vouchsafed to his own truths in the experience of Mr. Toplady, during his illness, and at the time of his death, was not only denied by you, but even construed into a gross imposition of his friends to deceive the public, and thereby the good effects which might justly have been hoped for were in great measure counteracted; that his enemies were hardened against the truths he maintained and so ably vindicated; and even his friends staggered by the shocking accounts forged and propagated: I say, when I saw this to be the case, I determined <i>(to adopt an expression of your own)</i> to “write and print.” I said, Let God be true, and every man a liar. If you make no reply, I cannot avoid construing your silence into an acquiescence of your being guilty of the matter brought against you. If you do “write and print” in answer, let me beg you, for once, to avoid quibbles and evasions.</div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>I am, rev. sir,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Your sincere well-wisher, &c.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>and most humble servant,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>RICHARD HILL.</i></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
“We whose names are underwritten are willing to testify upon oath, if required, that all the particulars published to the world in the late Memoirs, relative to the illness and death of the late rev. Augustus Montague Toplady, are strictly true; we ourselves having been eye and ear witnesses of the same. And therefore we all heartily join the author of the foregoing letters, in calling upon Mr. John Wesley, to produce his authority for what he told to Mr. Thomas Robinson of Hilderthorpe, the rev. Mr. Greaves, and others, as specified in the letter.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Andrew Gifford, D.D. British Museum.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>John Kyland, senior, Northampton.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i> Thomas Evans, Apothecary, Knightsbridge.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>William Abington, Beaufort-buildings, Strand. Thomas Hough, Surgeon, 3, Coventry street.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>William Cowley, Barbican.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>John Cole, Upper Seymore-street, Portman-sq.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Thomas Jarvis, Charing-cross.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Thomas Burgess, Mill-street, Hanover-square.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>William Hussey, & Susannah Hussy, Coventry-street.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Elizabeth Sterling, Nurse.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>James Matthews, No. 18, Strand. </i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
It would be an unpardonable omission, not to take notice of the nervous reprehension Mr. Wesley received on his unjust assertions, by a pious dissenting minister, who expostulated with him, in a pamphlet, in the following<span class="s1"> [[@Page:41]] </span>words: Mr. Wesley, and his confederates, to whom this letter is addressed, did not only persecute the late Mr. Toplady during his life, but even sprinkled his death-bed with abominable falsehood. It was given out, in most of Mr. Wesley’s societies, both far and near, that the worthy man had recanted and disowned the doctrines of sovereign grace, which obliged him, though struggling with death, to appear in the pulpit, emaciated as he was, and openly avow the doctrines he had preached, as the soul support of his departing spirit. Wretched must that cause be, which has need to he supported by such unmanly shifts, and seek for shelter under such disingenuous subterfuges. O! Mr. Wesley, answer for this conduct at the bar of the supreme. Judge yourself, and you shall not be judged. Dare you also to persuade your followers, that Mr. Toplady actually died in despair? Fie upon sanctified slander! Fie! fie!” </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
We here subjoin a copy of the last Will and Testament of Mr. Toplady, ratified six months prior to his decease.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
IN THE NAME OF GOD, AMEN. I, Augustus Montague Toplady, Clerk, Batchelor of Arts, and vicar of the Parish and Parish-church of Broad-Hembury, in the county of Devon, and diocese of Exeter; being mindful of my mortality, <i>(though at present in a competent state of bodily health, and of perfect mind and memory)</i> do make and declare this my last will and testament <i>(all written with my own hand, and consisting of three folio pages),</i> this twenty-eighth day of February, in the year of our Lord, One Thousand, Seven Hundred and Seventy eight<b> [1718]</b>, in manner and form following: That is to say, </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
First: I most humbly commit my soul to the hands of Almighty God; whom I know, and have long experienced to be my ever-gracious and infinitely merciful Father. Nor have I the least doubt of my election, justification, and eternal happiness, through the riches of his everlasting and unchangeable kindness to me in Christ Jesus his co-equal Son; my only, my assured, and my all-sufficient Saviour, washed in whose propitiatory blood, and clothed with whose imputed righteousness, I trust to stand perfect and sinless and complete, and do verily believe that I most certainly shall so stand, in the hour of death, and in the kingdom of heaven, and at the last judgment, and in the ultimate state of endless glory. Neither can I write this my last will without rendering the deepest, the most solemn, and the most ardent thanks, to the adorable Trinity in Unity, for their eternal, unmerited, irreversible, and inexhaustible love to me a sinner. I bless God the Father, for having written, from everlasting, my unworthy name in the Book of Life; even for appointing me to obtain salvation, through Jesus Christ my Lord. I adore God the Son, for his having vouchsafed to redeem me by his own most precious death; and for having obeyed the whole law for my justification. I admire and revere the gracious benignity of God the Holy Ghost, who converted me, to the saving knowledge of Christ, more than two-and-twenty years ago <b>[1696]</b>, and whose enlightening, supporting, comforting, and sanctifying agency is, and <i>(I doubt not) </i>will be, my strength and my song, in the house of my earthly pilgrimage. </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Secondly: As to my body, I will and desire it may be interred in my chancel, within the parish church of Broad Hembury, aforesaid, if I should be in Devonshire, or near to that county at the time of my death. But, in case I die at, or in the neighbourhood of, London; or at any other considerable distance from Devonshire; let the place of my interment be wheresoever my executor <i>(herein-after named)</i> shall choose and appoint; unless, in writing or by word of mouth, I should hereafter signify any particular spot for my place of burial. </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Thirdly: Let me be buried where I may, my express will and desire is, that my grave he dug to the depth of nine feet, at the very least, from the surface of the ground; or <i>(which would be still more agreeable to my will and desire) </i>to the depth of twelve feet, if the nature of the soil should admit of it. I earnestly request my executor to see to the performance of this article, with particular care and exactness. </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Fourthly: My express will is, that my funeral expenses may not, if possible, exceed the sum of twenty pounds sterling. Let no company be invited to my burial. Let no rings, scarves, has bands, or mourning of any kind, be distributed. Let no funeral sermon be preached. Let no monument be erected. </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Fifthly: whatsoever worldly substance and effects I shall die possessed of; and whatsoever worldly substance and effects I may be entitled to, before, at, or after, the time of my decease; whether money, plate, china, books, coins and medals, paintings, linen, clothes, furniture, and all other effects, of whatsoever kind, and to what amount soever, whether in town or country, at home or abroad; together with all arrears, and dues, of every sort; I do, hereby, give and bequeath the whole and every of them <i>(excepting only such single sum as shall be herein-afterwards distinctly named and other-ways disposed of)</i> to my valuable and valued friend Mr. William Hussey, china and glass-dealer of Coventry-street, in the county of Middlesex, and parish of St. James, in the Liberty of Westminster; and who [viz. the said,<span class="s1"> [[@Page:42]] </span>Mr. William Hussey] when not resident in town is likewise of Kensington-Gore, in the said county of Middlesex, and parish of St. Margaret, Westminster. And I do hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint him, the said William Hussey, the whole and sole executor of this my last will and testament, and my whole and sole residuary legatee. </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Sixthly: My will is, that my effects, so left and bequeathed, as above said, to the afore-named William Hussey, shall be, and hereby are, charged with the payment of the clear and neat sum of one hundred and five pounds, good and lawful money of Great Britain, to Elizabeth Sterling, now or late of Snow’s-Fields, in or near the Borough of Southwark in the county of Surrey, spinster. Which said sum of one hundred and five pounds lawful money of Great Britain, as aforesaid, I will and desire may be paid, clear and free of all deduction whatever, to the said Elizabeth Sterling, by my before named executor, Mr. William Hussey, within three months, at farthest after my decease; for and in consideration of the long and faithful services, rendered by ner, the said Elizabeth Sterling, to my late dear and honoured mother of ever-loved and revered memory. </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Seventhly: Let all my manuscripts of what kind soever <i>(I mean, all manuscripts of and in my own hand-writing,)</i> be consumed by fire, within one week after my interment. </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Eighthly: Whereas, it may seem mysterious, that I leave and bequeath no testamentary memorial of my regard to any of my own relations, whether by blood or by alliance, and whether related to me by my father’s side or by my mother’s, it may be proper just to hint my reasons. In the first place, I am greatly mistaken, if all my own relations be not superior to me, in point of worldly circumstances. And, secondly, as my said relations: are rather numerous, I deem myself more than justified in passing them all by, and in not singling out one, or a few, in preference to the rest; especially seeing my good wishes are impartially divided among them all. </div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Ninthly: With respect to many most valued and honoured persons, whose intimacy and friendship have so highly not related to me by any family tie; these I likewise omit, as legatees, First, because they are, in general, abundantly richer than myself; and, Secondly, because they too are so extremely numerous, both in town and country, that it is absolutely out of my power to bequeath, to each and every one of them, a substantial or very valuable memento of the respectful love which I bear to then in Christ our common Saviour! and to distinguish only some of them by legacies, might carry an implication of in-premises, <i>(and at the same time, utterly revoking, cancelling, annulling, and rescinding every and all other will: wills by me heretofore made).</i> I hereunto set my hand and seal, the day and year first above written, viz. Saturday, the twenty eighth day of February; and in the year of our Lord, One Thousand Seven Hundred and Seventy-eight; and of the reign of his majesty, king George the Third, the eighteenth year.</div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY. (L. S.)</i></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
Signed, declared, and published, as and for the last will and testament of him, the said Augustus Montague Toplady, in the presence of us, who subscribe our names in the testator’s presence, and at his request.</div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>JOHN BERNARD JUNTHER, THOMAS WILKS.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
We have now exhibited with much diffidence the outlines of the distinguished character of him who is the subject of these Memoirs, without any view either directly or obliquely, to set up or varnish the hypothesis, or the dogmas of a party. We have no connection whatever with any religious department. There is only one Master unto whom we bow and acknowledge implicit obedience, and unto whose doctrine and discipline we profess a cordial attachment. The religion of Jesus Christ we take up as the only solid basis of truth, our guide and comfort through this world, our hope and support in death, and our felicity in an immortal state, to which we are hastening.</div>
<div class="p3">
___________________________</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
In order to rescue from oblivion the following small fragment which necessarily attends the destiny of some fugitive Pieces, and at the particular solicitations of a few friends, this Elegiac Poem on the death of Mr. Toplady, written by Mr. John Fellows, is inserted.</div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p5">
<b><i>DESCEND</i></b><i>, ye shining seraphs from on high!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Ye, who with wonder and with praise survey</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The great Redeemer’s love to fallen man;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Ye, who with ceaseless songs surround the throne</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of filial Godhead, basking in the blaze</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of boundless glory; ye, who burn with love</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To all the saints; and have, at Christ’s command,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Oft join’d in bright assemblage, and come down</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>From heaven’s high summit thro’ these lower skies.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To bear his sons triumphant to his throne,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Descend! and in full legion aid the flight</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of a fair saint, who now rejoicing lies</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>On death’s cold verge: who, in his God’s embrace.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Smiling resigns his mortal breath, and stands</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>On love’s strong pinions ready to ascend.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Salvation to the Lamb who once was slain!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Dominion, glory, majesty, and praise!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Unerring wisdom shines, and boundless might</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In all his deeds. By his almighty power</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>He hath disarm’d the monster of his sting,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The tyrant death is now a conquer’d foe.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Wide as the sound of mighty seas, let all</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The heavenly multitudes begin the song.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Let all the skies with hallelujahs ring:</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And each angelic harp resound his praise.</i></div>
<div class="p6">
<i></i><br /></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Thus, as <b>AUGUSTUS </b>yielded up his breath</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And smiling sank into his Saviour’s arm.,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>His guardian angel sang. Meanwhile a train</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1"><i>[[@Page:43]]</i></span><i> Of mighty cherubs, by heaven’s King’s command.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Assembled, wait the signal to descend,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And bring the saint in triumph thro’ the skies.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Michael, the chief of the angelic hosts.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With Gabriel, the fast friend of all the heirs</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of glory, now commanded: The glad chiefs</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Prepare their trophies, and with heavenly pomp,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Worthy the great occasion, swift descend</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Thro’ the pure æther. All the shining train,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With strong immortal pinions, cleave the skies.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Michael, the prince, before the troop descends,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Exulting thus to friendly Gabriel spake:</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Gabriel, behold with what ecstatic joy</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Our favour’d train receive the high command</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To fetch AUGUSTUS to the climes of bliss</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With eager haste each cherubim proceeds;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Fix’d to the chariot stand the steeds of fire,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Which beat with burning hoofs the sounding plain,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And snorting toss on high their beamy heads</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Reluctant to the rein. The fervid wheols</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Instinct with spirit, and with love inspir’d,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Burn for the course. Each cherub waves his shield,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And claps his wings, impatient of delay.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>If any thing can add to heavenly bliss,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Or give new relish to the boundless joys</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>We feel in doing our great Maker’s will.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>It is the holy pleasure which expands</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Our glowing hearts, when from the lower world</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>We bear on high Emmanuel’s ransom’d sons,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The chosen objects of bis early love:</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But when we bring to his eternal hill</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Those who have labour’d in his righteous cause,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And have each glorious gospel truth maintain’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Against the rage of Zion’s numerous foes,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Our joys are greater: and these earthly stars</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>We bear to heavenly heights and set to shine</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In brighter skies. But see, the signal made</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>For our departure! Down the steep of heaven</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>As swift as light, ye legions bear away!</i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Here! this ways lies our course! Behold yon star</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Which feebly glimmers thro’ the distant void;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And scarce to angels’ sight appears in view.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>This is the sun that fills the lower skies</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With light and heat; and hath, successive years,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Pour’d from his burning throne the blazing day</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Which cheers the world where the Redeemer bled.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>A world where horrid guilt outrageous reigns.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And black rebellion seeks to storm the skies:</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Where haughty man, the lord of all the globe,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Presumes with daring insolence t’ arraign</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The conduct of his Maker; break his law,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And disbelieve his word. A world where hell’s</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Black norrid king in ceaseless tumult reigns,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Fomenting rage, and cruelty, and war,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In all their horrid forms; and every vice</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>So hateful and abhorr’d that heavenly lips</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Disdain to mention; but for this devote</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To ample vengeance, at th’ appointed day</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>When she shall burn by heaven’s awakened ire,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And God in thunder vindicate his law.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Yet in this world, such is the sovereign will</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of heaven’s dread Monarch, and his high decree,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The sons of grace and heirs of glory dwell.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Here they are kept at distance from his throne.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And from surrounding evils safe preserv’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>By powerful grace; and here they undergo</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Such discipline as trains them for the skies.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>On their account it is that vengeance stays,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And heaven’s rich blessings crown this wicked world</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In wide profusion. When the last of all</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The ransom’d race hath pass’d the gates of death,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Almighty vengeance, like a flood, will burst</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>From heaven’s high throne, and wrap the world in fire.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>These’ are the objects of his choice regard</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Whom the bright natives of the sky adore,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Who once was dead, but lives and reigns for ever.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>He keeps them in his eye; his power supports</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In every trouble. At the hoar of death</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>His arms receive them; and his guards he sends</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In shining squadrons, his cherubic guards,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To fetch them to his throne.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>This is the cause,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The joyful cause which wings our present flight.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Nor is a common saint our precious charge;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But one whose love and labours well are known</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>On heavenly ground. How often have his prayers</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Ardent ascended thro’ thick night, and burn’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Like grateful incense, which heaven’s King receiv’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With pleasing smiles which brightened all the sky.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>How oft amongst the happy sons of light,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Hath the Redeemer spoke his servant’s praise;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And, smiling, held him up to heavenly view.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>As a defender of his righteous cause!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Mention’d his labours, and his holy zeal</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With approbation; and enjoin’d the throng</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of listening cherubs to adorn their harps</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With flowery garlands, and prepare new songs</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Against the joyful, th’ appointed day</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Which brings him to the skies!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>How oft with joy And holy wonder hath the ardent train</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of warrior angels, when from earth’s low plains</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>They brought some precious saint to heavenly heights</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And taught their unfledg’d wings to scale the skies,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Heard them relate, how from their native night</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And heavy slumber on the brink of hell.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>They were awoke to see their dreadful state.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And sue for mercy, by the mighty power</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of sovereign grace, which to their hearts apply’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Some powerful portion dropping from the lips</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of that dear servant of the Lord, who now</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Demands the care of our surrounding shields,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Our wiftest pinions and our sweetest songs!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And with what transport have we often heard,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>As we ascended thro’ the trackless void</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With some fair charge, how the Redeemer’s love</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Was first display’d to cheer their drooping hearts</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>By some sweet words which heavenly power apply’d,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Warm from the heart and flowing from the lips</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of this dear man! How have the saints been warn’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Not to erect their building on the sand,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But on th’ eternal Rock, which all hell’s powers</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Can never shake! How have their doubts been clear’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>By the full blaze of heavenly truth! How were</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Their minds enlighten’d, comforted, upheld</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>By his instructions! With what fervent praise</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Have they approach’d the great Redeemer’s throne,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And, safe on heavenly ground, have bless’d the day</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>When first they sat attentive at his feet</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And heard his words!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>‘Tis true, he was indeed</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>A burning and a shining light; set up</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>By heavenly power to lead the ransom’d race</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Safe thro’ the darkness which o’ershades the land.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The heights of science in his youth be gain’d,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And with a rapid course explor’d the’ extent</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of learning’s province. Then, by powerful grace,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Call’d out, and to his Saviour’s vineyard sent,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>His ardent soul, inspir’d with love divine,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Pour’d all her faculties and all her strength</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Into the noble work; and all her powers</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Burn’d to display a bleeding Saviour’s love,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And teach a wond’ring world Emmanuel’s praise.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The great Redeemer’s glories to reveal,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And make the saints more ready to embrace</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>A free salvation, ‘twas his constant care</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To shew the wretched state of native man.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>How from the bitter fountain of the fall,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In every stream, the dire pollution runs.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Corrupt and wicked all the rising race</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of Adam stands. Not one but in his heart</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Dares to withstand his Maker’s sov’reign will.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And all his father in his soul rebels.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>For this devote to death each sinner stands</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And heavy vengeance hangs o’er all the race;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Which none escape but thro’ a Saviour’s blood.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But with what holy ecstasy and joy</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Did wond’ring crowds hang on the precious lips.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1"><i>[[@Page:44]]</i></span><i> Of the dear saint for whom we now descend;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>While in his powerful, soul-affecting strain</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The great Redeemer in full glory rose!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>How glow’d each heart with joy while he display’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>His glorious person, his amazing love,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>His great salvation, his victorious deeds,</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And pardon preach’d to sinners through his blood.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>How did the skies with acclamations ring,</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>When new ascended souls, on heavenly plains.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Beneath the trees of lite, were heard relate</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To listening angels, in what powerful strain</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>He spake the glories of th’ incarnate God;</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And the exalted Lord of life displayed</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In the full blaze of Deity supreme:</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Ador’d, as such, by all the happy throng</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of saints and angels, while he fills the skies</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With boundless glory.—Hence, ye impious throng!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Whose darken’d minds and eyes unus’d to light,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Ache at the glories of the Son of God.</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Ye, whose bold pride presumes such daring heights</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>As would degrade the sovereign of the skies;</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And will not worship at the glorious throne</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Where every bright archangel veils his face,</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And falls with deepest reverence. But, vain man</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Would fain be wise; and in his native filth</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Boldly rush in where angels dare not tread.</i><span class="s6"><i><br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And make a god himself can comprehend!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And with what clearness did the pious saint,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Whose voice on earth will now be heard no more,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Display the glories and the mighty power</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of Sovereign Grace! Not by the will of man,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>He plainly shew’d, but the all-conquering might</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of God the Spirit, is each sinner call’d.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>‘Tis his resistless power that first begins,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Maintains, and, thro’ each stage, he carries on</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The noble work; prevailing o’er the filth</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of ruin’d nature, ‘till it stand complete,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In heavenly glory. Allthe ranbom’d race,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Safe-guided thro’ the wilderness, shall find</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Tbeir Father’s house. Not one of all the train</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Shall ever perish. All the powers of hell,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Tho</i><span class="s7"><i>״</i></span><i> all their rage unite against one saint,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>C-m never pluck him from his Saviour’s arms.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But sinful man, such is his native pride,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Would fain be sharer in this noble work;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of his own doings a proud structure raise,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And from its summit boldly mount the skies.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But heaven, with anger, views the impious toil</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of all such builders; mocks their vain attempts,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>O’erturns their boasted fabrics, in its ire,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>“And buries madmen in the heaps they raise.”</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>How great the folly of mistaken man,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To think his works are worthy to appear</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>On heavenly ground! Who hopes to share the praise</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of his salvation; and with dirty feet</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Would dare pollute the bright transparent stream</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of love divine; which, from th’ eternal throne,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Flows pure and clear, and in this lower world</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Streams like a fountain thro’ a Saviour’s blood.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But will not with the muddy waters mix</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Which rise from nature’s fountain.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Whether pride.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Or stupid folly in mistaken man,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Most calls for censure, is a puzzling question</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>No angel can resolve. How much of each</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>They all betray, when they presume to rise</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Against the glories of a sovereign God,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Who sits enthron’d, amidst the boundless blaze</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of uncreated brightness and that light</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>No mortal can behold! He from his throne,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>At one vast comprehensive view, beholds</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The universe, and all created things,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Past, present, and to come. How oft have we</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And all the heavenly multitude, retir’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With trembling awe, while the eternal King</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Hath in surrounding darkness veil’d his throne;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And not the tall archangel durst presume</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To pry into the, secrets of his reign!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But man, vain man! can boldly dare to blame,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Oppose and contradict his high decree:</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In his own narrow limits would confine</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Eternal love, nor give heaven’s Sovereign leave</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To choose amongst his creatures whom he will.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And bring the happy objects of his choice</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Safe to his throne by his almighty power.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Because proud man can see no reason why.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But see the world, to which we wine: our way,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Appears in view. Behold the clouded sphere</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of earth and water form’d. The darker parts</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Are spacious seas; the lighter solid land.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The seat of man. See, in triangular form</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Great Britain rise, and swell upon the sight.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Here, in full peace, the heirs of glory dwell,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And sit beneath the gospel’s joyful sound.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And from this favour’d land each day we bring</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Numbers of shining saints, and bear on high!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To people all the skies.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>What cause for praise</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Hath every native of this happy laud!</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Happy! thrice happy I knew they how to prize</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Each precious privilege which they enjoy,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Since their deliverance from th’ oppressive power</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And purple tyranny of haughty Home.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But, cold and careless grown, they sit supine.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And her ungrateful sons behold the place,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Without emotion, where their fathers died:</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And, fearless now, they with the serpent play,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>By whose deceitful wiles, and bloody rage,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>A world hath smarted.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>See, the tools of Rome</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With demons join’d, how cunningly they hide</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Their base designs! How, in the dark, they work,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And on unwary and unstable minds</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Too much prevail; while, like a lamb they paint</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The papal monarch! But if once he rear</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>His bloody standard, this revolted land</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Will hear him like a dreadful Honroar:</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And late, by sad experience, will be taught</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>That the old dragon has not lost his sting.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And now to bring about her base designs,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>See, how the fraud of Rome hath undermin’d</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>The British counsels! For the land declines</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In strength and glory, while the sword of wax</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>She hath, by madness urg’d, and cruel rage,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>In her own bowels plung’d.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>MICHAEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>But see, we stand</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>On earthly ground, and at our journey’s end.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Just rising from the frozen arms of death,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And from the change of matter now broke loose</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Our charge appears. His guardian angel smiles</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>To see our squadron. Not unknown, he views</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Each cherub’s features; and presumes the cause</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>For which we left the skies.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GUARDIAN ANGEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Hail I ye bright train</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of happy angels! Welcome to the land</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Where great Immanuel trains his chosen sons</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>For boundless glory! And, when fit to rise,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Having performed his holy work and will,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Sends his bright guards to bear them to his throne.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Such is the cause which brings yon now from heaven.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With ardent joy I your assembly join,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And to your care commit my precious charge,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Who burns with heavenly love, and longs to rise</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With you to worship, and to join your songs.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p3">
<b>GABRIEL.</b></div>
<div class="p3">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Sing, all ye seraphs, the deserved praise</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of our incarnate God! who reigns on high</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>And dwells amidst the unutterable blaze</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Of uncreated light. Him all the skies,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>With awful reverence, and with holy joy.</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Adore and praise: and his immortal deeds</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Will find fresh matter for our soaring songs,</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>When we, assembled, sit on heavenly hills;</i></div>
<div class="p5">
<i>Nor can eternal ages e’er exhaust</i></div>
<br />
<div class="p5">
<i>The boundless theme. Salvation to the Lamb!</i></div>
Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16786453275962472466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731045158786084518.post-22785277094967151362013-11-23T09:10:00.000-08:002013-11-23T09:10:53.072-08:00THE WORKS OF AUGUSTUS TOPLADY, B.A. (Volume One Preface)<h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">THE</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
WORKS</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">OF</span></div>
<b><div style="text-align: center;">
<b>AUGUSTUS TOPLADY,</b> B. A.</div>
</b><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">LATE VICAR OF BROAD HEMBURY, DEVON.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">A New Edition,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME.</div>
</h2>
<div class="p7">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">PRINTED VERBATIM FROM THE FIRST EDITION OF HIS WORKS,</span></div>
<b><div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">1794.</span></b></div>
</b><br />
<div class="p8">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">[[@Page:v]]</span></div>
<h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
PREFACE</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
TO THE FIRST EDITION OF THE WORK</div>
</h3>
<div class="p11">
SOON after the decease of Mr. Toplady, many persons, who loved his principles and revered his memory, expressed an earnest desire to have a complete edition of his works. Nothing of the kind was, however, attempted, until the <b>year 1792,</b> when the undertaking was finally determined upon. Materials were accordingly collected, and application was made to some gentlemen of literary character, whose principles coincided with the Author’s, to undertake the arrangement for publication. Their assistance was promised, but the conditions were afterwards found to be such as could not be assented to, without proving injurious to the work, and probably giving it the appearance of an imposition on the public. Apprehensive that the world would thus be deprived of a considerable part of the writings of a justly admired author, the proprietors determined to proceed in the undertaking, and the superintendence devolved on one whose abilities <i>(in his own estimation)</i> were disproportioned to the task. He is satisfied with having secured from oblivion so large a portion of valuable compositions, and throws himself upon the candour of the public, without any studied or affected apologies.</div>
<div class="p11">
<br /></div>
<div class="p11">
The peculiar object in the writings of Mr. Toplady was to bring vital Christianity to view, and to display its principles, defended with arguments drawn from the same source. His admirable pages are a masterly and consistent defence of the Divine Attributes, in unison with the writings of the Old and New Testament. For it will be self-evident, to those who will only consider, that the perennial opposition made to the doctrines of discriminating grace, in the absolute love of the everlasting Father, proceeding forth from Him in His beloved Son, and communicated to a peculiar people by the Holy Spirit, are the identical objections reiterated against the purposes of the Almighty, respecting the restriction of the volume of Revelation.</div>
<div class="p11">
<br /></div>
<div class="p11">
It must be perceivable that the very reception of the Scriptures, among any people, cannot be supported but on the principles of our Author. For the question has been asked, and often repeated, If the Divine records are acknowledged to be “A light to them who sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death,” and a directory “To guide their feet in the paths of peace,” how is it to be accounted for, that millions of the inhabitants of the globe are without its saving and salutary influence?! Taking a survey of human nature, what reason can be given that so many of our fellow creatures are worshipping the idols of their imagination with obscene and barbarous rites, and others sunk in the very dregs of brutal voluptuousness? Why are the Vedam, the Zend-Avesta, the Sadder, and the Alcoran, received and acknowledged with all their fanciful conjectures and chronological chimeras, and the deposit of sacred writ not so much as heard of in the midst of the rubbish of those absurdities? and where the vivifying beams of revelation are displayed, as they are in this country, and at this period of time, how is it that the intellectual darkness of the mind is not dissipated so as to perceive its radiance? Who upon earth can give a satisfactory reason for these facts, or develop to the human mind the various dispensations of God, in denying or withholding the light of revelation, without resolving it into the divine will, and ultimately taking up the words of Him who spake as never man did, “Even so, Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight.”</div>
<div class="p11">
<br /></div>
<div class="p11">
These weighty investigations, which the importance of the subject brings under consideration, were some of the principal topics which employed the abilities of our Author. From those who are not influenced by a saving knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus nothing is to be expected, in the perusal of these writings, but the most inveterate opposition, hasty censure, and unbridled license of declamation; while those who are taught from above cannot be brought to abandon a belief so full of enlivening consolations, and attested to their consciences by irrefragable documents; they will be induced to contemplate the inconceivable greatness, the inaccessible height, the unfathomable researches, and immeasurable extent of these heavenly excellencies, and exclaim, with the apostle Paul, “O the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and the knowledge of God, how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!” While meditating on this preliminary state of things, the thoughts will expand with an earnest desire to that eventful period when a far nobler scene shall be opened, when this faint twilight shall be preceded with the blaze of an eternal day; and when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.</div>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">
NOTE.</h4>
<div class="p11">
THE Proprietors desire to acknowledge publicly, in terms of the warmest and most sincere gratitude, their obligations to the promoters of the work, and particularly to Mr. Hussey, for the many marks he has shown of his disinterested attention, as well as for his cheerful communication of the remaining manuscripts of his dear deceased friend.</div>
Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16786453275962472466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731045158786084518.post-80904740062855418762013-06-18T08:18:00.001-07:002013-06-18T08:18:17.252-07:00Memoirs of John Owen Volume One Chapter Two<h2 style="text-align: center;">
CHAP. II.<o:p></o:p></h2>
<div style="border: solid gray 1.5pt; margin-left: 42.55pt; margin-right: 42.55pt; mso-border-themecolor: background1; mso-border-themeshade: 128; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 1.0pt 4.0pt 1.0pt 4.0pt;">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
Owen’s connexion with the Presbyterian body — its
state at that time — Baxter’s account of it — its Intolerance — Owen publishes his Duty of Pastors and People’s
— His Two ‘Catechisms’ — Preaches before Parliament — Publication of the
Discourse, and his Essay on Church Government — His views of Uniformity and
Toleration — Leaves Fordham.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
BY accepting the living
of Fordham, Owen formally connected himself with the Presbyterian body, which
about that time enjoyed the greatest prosperity at which it ever arrived in
England. Whether Presbyterianism was the form of government which prevailed in
the primitive church, it is not our object, at present, to ascertain; but, that
Calvin was the first, after the reformation, who brought it into notice, and
reduced it to practice, is, we believe, generally admitted. Whether it was
suggested to him by the Civil Government of Geneva, or entirely by the New
Testament, will be credited, according as men are the abettors or opponents of
his system. Be this as it may, in the school of Geneva originated the
Presbyterianism of Britain. The English exiles, driven from their native
country, by the oppressions of popery and prelacy, to that city of liberty,
were alienated from the system in which most of them had been educated, as well
by the conduct of its supporters, as by their conviction of its contrariety to
the word of God. They were thus prepared to view, with a favourable eye, a form
of government and worship, which had more support in Scripture; which provided
a greater degree of parity and power for all the ministers of the church; and
which seemed to be productive of a large portion, both of spiritual and
temporal good to men. The adoption of this system by the reformed churches of
Holland, France, Scotland, and part of Germany, promoted its influence, and
increased its celebrity. The writings of Calvin, Beza, and other celebrated men
of the same school, were extensively read, and their authority generally
respected; while the intercourse between England and those countries, greatly
increased by the tyrannical measures of government, advanced the progress of
its career in that quarter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[[@Page:29]] The body of
the Puritans were never entirely of the same mind on the subject of church
government. Not a few of them were, without doubt, rigid Presbyterians; but many
of them would have gladly submitted to a modified Episcopacy, such as that
which Archbishop Usher recommended. The Divine right of classical Presbytery
came to be contended for, chiefly after the Scots’ army was brought into
England, and when a uniformity of faith and worship in the three kingdoms began
to be enforced. As, for a considerable time, it appeared likely to gain the
ascendancy, most of those who fell off from Episcopacy, from dissatisfaction
with its forms, united themselves with it, though many of them were not
disposed to admit all its pretensions. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owen, as far as he, was a
Presbyterian, was one of this description. Speaking of his sentiments at this
period of his life, and of a Treatise then published, which we shall
immediately notice, he says, I was then a young man, about the age of twenty-six
or twenty-seven. The controversy between Independency and Presbytery was then
young also; nor, indeed, by me clearly understood; especially as stated on the
Congregational side. The conceptions delivered in the Treatise were not, as
appears in the issue, suited to the opinion of the one party or the other; but
were such as occurred to mine own naked consideration of things, with relation
to some differences that were then upheld in the place where I lived. Only
being unacquainted with the Congregational way, I professed myself to own the
other party, not knowing but that my principles were suited to their judgment
and profession; <i>having looked very little farther into those affairs, than I
was led by an opposition to Episcopacy and ceremonies.</i> <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Presbyterianism was not
established in England ‘by way of probation,’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
as Neal expresses it, until 1645; and as presbyteries were not erected for some
time after this, and in many places never erected, it is not probable that Owen
was ever a member of a presbytery. This circumstance, together with his
sentiments as stated in the above extract, shews that his connexion with that
body was more nominal <span style="letter-spacing: -.45pt;">[[@Page:30]] </span>than
real. To give a correct view of its religious character about this time is not
an easy task. The partiality of its friends has led them to exaggerate its
excellencies, and the dislike of its enemies has induced them to aggravate and
multiply its faults. It doubtless embraced many individuals, estimable for
their piety, and distinguished for their learning; and not a few who had
suffered much in the cause of God. In a body which contained many faithful
preachers of the truth, there must have been a large portion of genuine
religion; although, from its principles, many were admitted into fellowship
with it, whose profession could not have borne a close investigation. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The testimony of Baxter, whose opportunities of judging wero abundant, and
whose partiality to the Presbyterians secures hint from the suspicion of
misrepresenting them, is as follows: — <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘The persons who were
called Presbyterians were eminent for learning, sobriety, and piety; and the
pastors, so called, were they that went through the work of the ministry, in
diligent, serious preaching to the people, and edifying men’ souls, and keeping
up religion in the land.’<sup> <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[5]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a></sup>
— But I disliked the course of some of the more rigid of them, that drew too
near the way of prelacy, by grasping at a kind of secular power; not using it
themselves, but binding the magistrates to confiscate or imprison men, merely
because they were excommunicated; and so corrupting the true discipline of the
church, and turning the communion of saints into the communion of the
multitude, that must keep in the church against their wills, for fear of being
undone in the world. Whereas a man whose conscience cannot feel a just
excommunication, unless it be backed with confiscation or imprisonment, is no
fitter to be a member of a Christian church, than a corpse is to be a member of
a corporation. — They corrupt the discipline of Christ by mixing it with
secular force; and they reproach the keys, or ministerial power, as if it were
not worth a straw unless the magistrate’ sword enforce it; and worst of all,
they corrupt the church by forcing in the rabble of the unfit, and unwilling,
and thereby tempt many godly Christians to schisms and dangerous separations.
Till <span style="font-size: 6.5pt; mso-bidi-language: HE;">[[@Page:</span>31]] magistrates keep the sword themselves, and
learn to deny it to every angry clergyman that would do his own work by it, and
leave them to their own weapons, — the word and spiritual keys; “et valeant
quantum valere possunt;” the church shall never have unity and peace. And I
disliked some of the Presbyterians that they were not tender enough to
dissenting brethren; but too much <i>against liberty, </i>as other’ were too
much <i>for </i>it; and thought by votes and number to do that which love and
reason should have done. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn6" name="_ftnref6" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[6]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The worst feature
certainly of Presbytery, about this time, that which excited the greatest
attention, and which ultimately ruined its influence, was its intolerance; or
determined and persevering hostility to liberty of conscience. The most
celebrated Presbyterian divines, such as Calamy and Burgess, in their
discourses before parliament, represented toleration as the hydra of schisms
and heresies, and the floodgate to all manner of iniquity and danger; which,
therefore, the civil authorities ought to exert their utmost energy to put
down. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn7" name="_ftnref7" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[7]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Their most distinguished writers advocated the rights of persecution, and
endeavoured to reason, or rail down religious liberty. With this view chiefly,
Edwards produced his ‘Gangrena,’ and his ‘Casting down of the last and
strongest hold of Satan, or a Treatise against Toleration.’!!!<span class="MsoFootnoteReference"> </span>And, not to notice the ravings of Bastwick,
and Paget, and Vicars, it is painful to quote the respectable names of
Principal Baillie of Glasgow, and Samuel Rutherford, Professor of Divinity in
St. Andrews, as engaged in supporting so bad a cause. The former, throughout
his ‘Dissuasive,’ discovers how determined a foe he was, to what he calls a ‘monstrous
imagination.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn8" name="_ftnref8" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[8]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The latter, wrote a quarto volume of four hundred pages against pretended
liberty of conscience.’!! It was the Trojan horse whose bowels were full of
warlike sectaries, and weapons of destruction. Like the fabled box of Pandora,
it had only to be opened to let loose upon the world all the ills which ever
afflicted our race. It was the Diana, before whose shrine the motley groupes of
dissenters from presbytery were represented as making their <span style="letter-spacing: .7pt;">[[@Page:32]] </span><span style="letter-spacing: .25pt;">devout</span>est prostrations. That I do not caricature the persons of
whom I am speaking, let the following specimen shew.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A Toleration is the grand
design of the devil — his master-piece, and chief engine he works by at this
time, to uphold his tottering kingdom. It is the most compendious, ready, sure
w ay to destroy all religion, lay all waste, and bring iu all evil. It is a
most transcendent, catholic, and fundamental evil for this kingdom of any that
can be imagined. As original sin is the most fundamental sin, having the seed
and spawn of all in it; so a toleration hath all errors in it, and all evils.
It is against the whole stream and current of Scripture both in the Old and New
Testament; both in matters of faith and manners; both general and particular
commands. It overthrows all relations, political, ecclesiastical, and
economical. And whereas other evils, whether of judgment or practice, be but
against some one or two places of Scripture or relation, this is against all — this
is the Abaddon, Apollyon, the destroyer of all religion, the abomination of
desolation and astonishment, the liberty of perdition, and therefore the devil
follows it night and day; working mightily in many by writing books for it, and
other ways; — All the devils in hell, and their instruments, being at work to
promote a toleration. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn9" name="_ftnref9" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[9]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Had these been the
sentiments of a few private and violent individuals only, it might have been
proper to pass them by, as giving an unfair view of the principles or spirit of
the party with which they were connected; but when similar sentiments and
temper are discovered in the public and united proceedings of the body, the
matter is very different. That this was the case with the Presbyterians, at
this time, is too evident from many facts. The Presbyterian party in the
Westminster Assembly defeated the attempt, recommended by the committee of the
Lords and Commons, to promote a union, if possible, with the Independents. They
refused even to tolerate their churches. Baxter acknowledges that they were so
little sensible of their own infirmities, that they would not agree to tolerate
those who were not only tolerable, but worthy instruments and members in the
churches. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn10" name="_ftnref10" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[10]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> When
they found the Commons would not support their violent and unreasonable [[@Page:33]] demands to suppress all other sects, they brought
forward the Scots’ parliament to demand that their advices should be complied
with, and to publish a declaration against toleration. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn11" name="_ftnref11" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[11]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The whole body of the London ministers addressed a letter to the Assembly, in
which they most solemnly declare how much they ‘detest and abhor the much
endeavoured toleration?’ The <i>‘Jus divinum </i>of church government,’
published by the same body, argues for ‘a compulsive, coactive, punitive,
corrective power to the political magistrate in matters of religion.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn12" name="_ftnref12" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[12]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The provincial assembly of London, the ministers of Warwickshire and
Lancashire, published declarations or addresses to the same purport. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn13" name="_ftnref13" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[13]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Enough on so unpleasant a
subject. Whatever differences existed in this party about other things, a
perfect harmony seems to have prevailed on this. They were evidently startled and
alarmed at the strange appearances of the religious world. They apprehended
nothing less than the utter destruction of religion from the liberty which men
had begun to enjoy. Their fears magnified the danger, and their attachment to
the cause of God led them to express themselves in the unwarrantable manner
which we have seen. It is only matter of thankfulness that they were not
permitted to grasp<sup> </sup>the sword, otherwise something more dreadful than
intemperate language would probably have followed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Their violent sentiments
and proceedings must have alienated many from their cause, and led moderate men
to doubt the foundation of a system which seemed to require such support.
These, in fact, were the things which entirely ruined their interest. If the
leading Presbyterians in the Assembly and city had come to a temper with the
Independents, on the footing of a limited toleration, they had in all
likelihood prevented the disputes between the army and parliament, which were
the ruin of both; they might then have saved the constitution, and made their
own terms with the king; but they were enchanted with the beauties of <i>covenant
uniformity, </i>and the Divine right of [[@Page:34]] Presbytery, which, after all, the parliament would
not admit in its full extent.” <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn14" name="_ftnref14" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[14]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It required, indeed,
considerable enlargement of mind, to examine impartially the causes of the
confusion of practice and conflict of opinion, which were then operating on the
country. Few were capable of looking through the tempest which was then
howling, to a period of peace which would certainly follow; when the novelty of
liberty should subside into the enjoyment of its sweets; and when the
ebullitions of party should give place to ‘quietness and assurance for ever.’
Milton took the true view of the state of the country, when he exclaimed, in all the felicity of the
poet and the fervour of the patriot, Methinks I see a noble and puissant nation
rousing herself, like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible
locks. ‘Methinks I see her, as an eagle, muing her mighty youth, and kindling
her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam; purging and unsealing her long
abused sight at the fountain itself of heavenly radiance; while the whole noise
of timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the twilight, flutter
about, amazed at what she means, and in their envious gabble would
prognosticate a year of sects and schisms.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn15" name="_ftnref15" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[15]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have no reason to
think that Owen ever approved of the sentiments and spirit of the body with
which he was, to appearance, for a time connected. It seems rather probable
that its violent temper tended to shake any attachment he ever had to it. The
moderation of his views, even while a Presbyterian, appeared in the next
production of his pen, and which was published not long after his settlement in
Fordham: this was ‘The Duty of Pastors and People distinguished, touching the
administration of things commanded in Religion, especially concerning the means
to be used by the people of God, distinct from Church Officers, for the
increasing of Divine knowledge in themselves and others,’ &c. 4to, pp. 56,
1644. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn16" name="_ftnref16" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[16]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Though it has the date of 1644, it was published in 1643. It is dedicated to
his ‘Truly noble and ever honoured friend, Sir Edward Scot of Scots [[@Page:35]]
Hall, in Kent, Knight of the honourable
order of the Bath.’ In the dedication he tells Sir Edward that he had published
it in consequence of the solicitations of some judicious men who were
acquainted with its contents; and thanks him for many favours, and especially
for the free ‘proffer of an ecclesiastical preferment, then vacant, and in his
donation;’ but which circumstances had prevented him from accepting. I know
nothing of Sir Edward Scot, but Owen makes most honourable mention of him in
this address. From one passage it would seem that he had been some time in Sir Edward’s
family; and as it does credit to the worthy Knight, and shews something of the
troubled state of the country, it is worth quiffing. ‘Twice, by God’s providence,
have I been with you when your county has been in great danger to be ruined;
once by the horrid insurrection of a rude, godless multitude; and again by the
invasion of a potent enemy prevailing in the neighbour county. At both which
times, besides the general calamity justly feared, particular threatenings were
daily brought to you. Under which sad dispensations, I must crave leave to say,
that I never saw more resolved constancy, or more cheerful, unmoved Christian
carriage in any man.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His object in this
treatise is to steer a middle course between those who ascribed too much power
to ministers, and those who gave too much to the people. ‘Some,’ says he, ‘would
have all Christians to be almost ministers, others none but ministers to be God’s
clergy: those would give the people the keys, these use them to lock them out
of the church. The one ascribing to them primarily all ecclesiastical power for
the ruling of the congregation, the other abridging them of the performance of
spiritual duties, for the building of their own souls. As though there were no habitable
earth between the valley, I had almost said, the pit of democratical confusion,
and the precipitous rock of hierarchical tyranny.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn17" name="_ftnref17" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[17]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
His design, therefore, is to show how ‘The sacred calling may retain its
ancient dignity, though the people of God be not deprived of their Christian
liberty.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn18" name="_ftnref18" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[18]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In prosecuting this
discussion he declares himself to be of ‘the belief of that form of church
government, which is [[@Page:36]]<span style="letter-spacing: -.15pt; mso-bidi-language: HE;"> </span>commonly
called Presbyterial, in opposition to Prelatical on the one side, and that which
is commonly called Independent on the other.’ He was then, as appears from what
we have already quoted, very ignorant of Independency,but was more nearly
allied to it in sentiment than he himself knew. Hence referring afterwards to
this very tract he says, ‘Upon a review of what I had there asserted, I found
that my principles were more suited to what is the judgment and practice of the
Congregational men, than those of the Presbyterian. Only, whereas I had not
received any farther clear information in these ways of the worship of God,
which since I have been engaged in, I professed myself of the Presbyterian
judgment, in opposition to democratical confusion; and, indeed, so I do still,
and so do all the Congregational men in England that I am acquainted with. So that when I compare what I then wrote
with my present judgment, I am scarce able to find the least difference between
the one and the other; only a misapplication of names and things by me, gives
countenance to this charge.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn19" name="_ftnref19" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[19]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An examination of the
tract itself confirms this view of it. It is very different from the Reformed
Pastor of Baxter, or the Pastoral Care of Burnet. Both these small works, which
contain much important matter, are occupied with stating and enforcing the
duties of ministers; while Owen’s is devoted to pointing out the rights and
duties of the people. The greater part of it is employed in preliminary
disquisition respecting the condition of the people of God before the coming of
Christ; so that it is only towards the end of it, that he treats of their duty
now, in extraordinary and ordinary circumstances. Without seeming to advocate <i>lay
preaching, </i>he argues from various considerations, that ‘truth revealed to
any carries along with it an immoveable persuasion of conscience, that it ought
to be published and spoken to others.’ From Acts viii. 1-4. he says it appears ‘that
all the <i>faithful members </i>of the church, being thus dispersed, went
everywhere preaching the word, having no warrant, but the general engagement of
all Christians to further the propagation of Christ’s kingdom.’ In
extraordinary or peculiar circumstances, therefore, he [[@Page:37]] contends that it is the duty of every man to make
known as extensively as possible, the portion of truth with which he is
acquainted. In ordinary circumstances he maintains, that it is the duty of the
people of God, ‘for the improving of knowledge, the increasing of charity, and
the furtherance of that holy communion that ought to be among the brethren, of
their own accord to assemble together, to consider one another, to provoke unto
love and to good works, to stir up the gifts that are in them, yielding and
receiving mutual consolation by the fruits of their most holy faith.’ He
endeavours to shew that such practices soberly conducted, are not interferences
with the pastoral office; but ought to be encouraged by all the servants of
Jesus Christ, as much calculated to promote the progress of knowledge and
holiness. While he every where discovers sufficient respect for the institution
of the gospel ministry, there is none of that selfish and narrow jealousy of
encroachment upon its rights; none of that morbid fear of its honour and
dignity; — none of that supercilious treatment of the people — the <i>Laity, </i>which have so frequently been discovered by men in
office, and which savour more of the pride of power, and the spirit of
corporation, than the liberality of Christianity, and disinterested zeal for
the salvation of men.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the course of this
Treatise, Owen mentions twice a Latin tract, ‘De sacerdotio Christi contra
Armin. Socin. et Papistas.’ Besides treating of the priesthood of Christ, it
seems to have been intended as an answer to the views of the Dutch Remonstrants
on Liberty of Prophesying. This production was designed, at first, for the
satisfaction of a few private friends, and was, he tells us, ‘nondum edito,’
when he published his Duties of Pastor and People. Nor does it appear to have
been ever published; as before this could take place, his niind underwent an
important change on the subject of religious liberty. As every thing on this
subject is interesting, the candid avowal of his change of sentiment on this
important topic, contained in the following passage, is worthy of attention<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘I remember about fifteen
years ago, that meeting with a learned friend, we fell into some debate about
the liberty that began then to be claimed by men, differing from what had been
(Episcopacy), and what was then likely to be [[@Page:38]] established (Presbytery); having, at that time, made
no farther inquiry into the grounds and reasons of such liberty, than what had
occurred to me in the writings of the Remonstrants — I delivered my judgment <i>in
opposition to the liberty </i>pleaded for, which was then defended by my
learned friend. Not many years after, discoursing the same difference with the
same person, we found immediately that we had changed stations; I pleading for
an indulgence of liberty, he for restraint. Whether that learned and worthy
person be of the same mind that then he was, I know not directly. My change I
here own; my judgment is not the same in this particular that it was fourteen
years ago, and in my change, I have good company, whom I need not name. I shall
only say, it was at least twelve years before the Petition and Advice, <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn20" name="_ftnref20" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[20]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
wherein the Parliament of the three nations is come up to my judgment.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn21" name="_ftnref21" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[21]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This passage exhibits the
openness and candour of Owen in a very interesting light; and also shews that
his changes did not follow, but precede the revolutions of public opinion. It
must have been no small gratification to him to see his sentiments afterwards
embraced by so large and enlightened a portion of the community. And it is
gratifying to the biographer of Owen to have it in his power to state, that the
changes of sentiment and progress of public opinion during more than a century
and a half since Owen’s alteration, so far from detecting the mistakes, or
exposing the danger of his sentiments, have only more fully elucidated their
importance, and established their truth beyond controversy, and he trusts,
also, beyond danger.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Previously to Owen’s introduction
to the parish of Fordham, the parish itself, and the surrounding country, had
been exceedingly neglected. Immediately, therefore, on obtaining the living, he
set himself most resolutely to correct the evils in which it was immersed.
Publicly, and privately, he appears to have laboured for the people’ good.
Among other means which he employed, was that of catechising them from house to
house; a mode of instruction peculiarly adapted to their condition, and which [[@Page:39]]
has often been blessed to the souls of men.
To enable him more effectually to prosecute this plan, in the end of the year
1645, he published, “ The Principles of the Doctrine of Christ, unfolded in two
short Catechisms; wherein those principles of religion are explained, the
knowledge whereof is required by the late ordinance of Parliament, before any
be admitted to the Lord’ Supper: 12mo. pp. 60. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn22" name="_ftnref22" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[22]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The first part of this small production he calls the lesser Catechism, intended
for young persons, and to be committed to memory; the second, the greater
Catechism, designed for the instruction of the grown up people, and to assist
them in instructing their families. They are both tolerably simple, and on the
whole, well adapted to the purpose for which they were prepared.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Address to his ‘Loving
Neighbours and Christian Friends,’ discovers the deep anxiety he felt for their
spiritual welfare, and notices some of the means he bad employed to promote it.
‘My heart’s desire and request unto God for you is, that ye may be saved: I say
the truth in Christ also, I lie not, my conscience bearing me witness in the
Holy Ghost, that I have great heaviness, and continual sorrow in my heart, for
them amongst you, who as yet walk disorderly. and not as beseemeth the gospel,
little labouring to acquaint themselves with the mystery of godliness. You
know, brethren, how I have been amongst you, and in what manner, for these few
years past; and how I have kept back nothing that was profitable unto you; but
have shewed you and taught you publicly, and from house to house, testifying to
all repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ. With what
sincerity this hath been by me performed, with what issue and success by you
received, God, the righteous Judge, will one day declare. In the mean time, the
desire of my heart is, to be servant to the least of you in the work of the
Lord; and that in any way, which I can conceive profitable unto you, either in
your persons or your families.’ This language shews bow much he was in earnest
about his work, and discovers the same spiritual and benevolent mind, which he
cultivated and maintained to the end of his course.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both Catechisms are
strictly of a doctrinal nature: the [[@Page:40]] omission of moral duties he
explains, by declaring his intention to publish, in a short time, an Exposition
of the Lord’ Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, with the Articles of the Creed,
in the same form. Before this intention could be executed, however, he <i>was </i>either
removed from Fordham, or his mind had undergone a change which prevented the
fulfilment of his promise.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The fame of Owen was now
beginning to extend, which occasioned his being called to appear in a wider
field of labour and influence. On the twenty-ninth of April, 1646, being the
day of the monthly fast, observed by Parliament, he was appointed to preach
before that august assembly. The sermon, which was published by command of the
House, and for which he received its thanks, by Mr. Fenner, and Sir Peter
Wentworth, was founded on Acts xvi. 9., and is entitled, ‘A vision of
unchangeable free mercy, in sending the means of grace to undeserving sinners.’
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn23" name="_ftnref23" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[23]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
It contains a great variety of matter, and toward the end an earnest
expostulation about the destitute state of Wales, and some other parts of the
country. ‘When manna fell in the wilderness from the hand of the Lord,’ he
exclaims, ‘every one had an equal share. I would there were not now too great
an inequality, when in the hand of man. Some have all, and others none; some
sheep daily picking the choice flowers of every pasture, others wandering upon
the barren mountains, without guide or food.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His dedication of the
sermon to the long Parliament is in Latin, and on account of the high eulogium
which it pronounces on that body, deserves to be here introduced. ‘Amplissimo
Senatui, &c. &c. To the most noble Senate, the most renowned assembly
of England; — most deservedly celebrated through the whole world, and to be
held in everlasting remembrance by all the inhabitants of this island; — for
strenuously, and faithfully, asserting the rights of Englishmen; — for
recovering the liberty of their country, almost ruined by the base attempts of
some; — for administering justice boldly, equally, moderately, impartially; — for
dissolving the power of a hierarchical tyranny in ecclesiastical affairs, and
abolishing the popish newly invented antichristian rites; — for restoring the
privileges of the Christian people; — for enjoying the powerful — <span style="letter-spacing: .3pt;">[[@Page:41]] </span>preservation of the Most High
in all these, and in innumerable other things in council and war, at home and
abroad: — To the illustrious, honourable, select Gentlemen of the Commons in
Parliament assembled, this Discourse, humble, indeed, in its pretensions; but
being preached before them by their desire, is now by their command published,’
&c.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It must be acknowledged
that this is not ordinary praise. But when we consider the conduct of the long
Parliament till this period; how natural it was for a lover of liberty,
justice, and religion, to view all its conduct in the most favourable light;
and the admissions even of its enemies in its favour; the language of Owen will
occasion less surprise. Lord Clarendon acknowledges, ‘that there were many
great and worthy patriots in the House, and as eminent as any age had ever
produced; men of gravity, of wisdom, and of large and plentiful fortunes.’
Hume, almost in the words of Owen, calls it a ‘famous Assembly, which bad
filled all Europe with the renown of its actions.’ After this, it will not
excite wonder that Milton should praise its ‘illustrious exploits against the
breast of tyranny, and the prosperous issue of its noble and valorous counsels.’
Without bestowing unlimited or indiscriminate approbation, it may be safely
affirmed, that it comprehended many whose stern integrity, and high
independence of mind, would have done honour to the proudest periods of Roman
glory; and that many of its measures have never been excelled in the wisdom
with which they were framed, the boldness with which they were advocated, or
the intrepidity and perseverance with which they were executed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the chief value of Owen’s
discourse now, is the assistance it affords us in tracing the progress of his
mind, on some of the subjects which then agitated the country, and at which we
have already glanced. From the Sermon, and a ‘Country Essay for the practice of
Church Government’ annexed to it, it appears that though he still remained in
the Presbyterian body; it could scarcely be said that he was of it. The
discourse itself contains his decided disapprobation of the views and spirit of
many in that profession. ‘They are,’ he says, ‘disturbed in their optics, or
having. got false glasses, all things are represented to them in dubious
colours. Which way soever <span style="letter-spacing: .9pt;">[[@Page:42]] </span>they
look, they can see nothing but errors, errors of all sizes, sorts, sects, and
sexes, from beginning to end; which have deceived some men, not of the worst,
and made them think, that all before was nothing, in comparison of the present
confusion.’ Referring to the same thing in the Essay, he says: ‘Once more,
conformity is grown the touchstone amongst the greatest part of men, however
otherwise of different persuasions. Dissent is the only crime, and where that
is all that is culpable, it shall be made all that is so.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About this time it
appears that he had much discussion with the ministers of the county of Essex,
on the subject of Church Government. This occasioned his being very variously
represented, and led him at the suggestion of others to put together, in a
great hurry, his thoughts on Church Government, and publish them with his
sermon. The substance of it had a good while before been circulated in
manuscript; and the great object of it is to try to unite both parties — the
Presbyterian and Independent; or, at least, to moderate their warmth. While he
professes to belong to, or hold some of the principles of the former, he, at
the same time, explicitly d eclares, ‘that he knew no church government in the
world, already established, of the truth and necessity of which he was in all
particulars convinced.’ The details of the plan, however, contain more of
Independency than of the other system; perhaps, as much of it as could be acted
on, along with obedience to Parliamentary injunctions. He intimates also his
conviction that ‘all <i>national disputes </i>about Church Government would
prove birthless tympanies.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The tract contains an
explicit declaration of his sentiments on two important subjects, — the folly
and uselessness of contention about uniformity, and the necessity and
importance of toleration. He protests against giving men odious appellations,
on account of their religious sentiments; and exposes the absurdity of that
species of exaggeration in which both parties then indulged. ‘Our little differences
may be met at every stall, and in too many pulpits, swelled by unbefitting
expressions to such a formidable bulk, that poor creatures are startled at
their horrid looks and appearance; while our own persuasions are set [[@Page:43]]
out in silken words and gorgeous apparel, as
if we sent them into the world a-wooing. Hence, whatever it is, it must be
temple-building, — God’s government, — Christ’s sceptre, throne, kingdom, — the
only way — that for want of which, errors, heresies, sins, spring among us;
plagues, judgments, punishments, come upon us. Such,big words as these have
made us believe, that we are mortal adversaries, that one kingdom, communion,
heaven, cannot hold us.’ He had given great offence by refusing, it appears, to
subscribe petitions to Parliament about Church Government, for which he assigns
very satisfactory reasons: but which show that he was far alienated from the
religious party then in power.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the subject of
toleration he had made great advances, though he had not yet arrived at the
maturity of his sentiments on this subject. ‘Toleration,’ he says, ‘is the alms
of authority, yet men who beg for it think so much at least their due. I never
knew one contend earnestly for a toleration of dissenters who was not one
himself; nor any for their suppression, who were not themselves of the
persuasion which prevaileth.’ He does not, however, maintain the necessity of a
universal toleration; and yet when his limitations come to be examined, and the
means be would employ in repressing error, and supporting truth, attended to,
his views arc, on the whole, highly enlightened and liberal. He uses some
strong language about the iniquity of putting men to death for heresy,
declaring that he ‘had almost said, it would be for the interest of morality to
consent generally to the persecution of a man maintaining such a destructive
opinion.’ ‘I know,’ <i>says </i>he, ‘the usual pretences for persecution, — “such
a thing is blasphemy:” but search the Scriptures, look at the definitions of
divines, and you will find heresy, in what head of religion soever it be, and
blasphemy very different. — “To spread such errors will be destructive to souls:”
so are many things which yet are not punishable with death; let him that thinks
so, go kill Pagans and Mahometans. — “Such a heresy is a canker:” but it is a
spiritual one, let it be prevented by spiritual means; cutting off men’ heads
is no proper remedy for it. If state physicians think otherwise, I say no more,
but that I am not of the college.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[[@Page:44]] There is a
prodigious contrast between these sentiments, and those of the Presbyterian
writers quoted in this chapter. Their violence and illiberality appear more
dreadful and improper, when brought into contact with the moderation and
liberality of Owen. His mind was rapidly maturing in the knowledge of the great
principles of civil and religious freedom; by advocating which he was destined
to acquire to himself a distinguished reputation, and to confer on his country
a most invaluable boon. He was already in the career of discovery advanced
considerably beyond most men of his time. — Undismayed by the collisions and
disorders which seemed to arise out of the enjoyment of liberty, his generous
soul exulted in the important blessing, and confidently anticipated from it the
most glorious ultimate results. Satisfied that the cause of God required not
the support of man’s puny arm, or the vengeance of his wrath, he fearlessly
committed it to him who has engaged to preserve it, and who hath said, ‘To me
belongeth vengeance, I will repay.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On a report that the
sequestered incumbent of Fordham was dead, the patron presented another to the
living, and dispossessed Owen. From this it would appear that in such cases,
the parliamentary presentations did not permanently interfere with the rights
of the patron; and that a person presented in the room of one who was ejected
for insufficiency, held the parish only during the life of the sequestered
minister. With the loss of Fordham terminated Owen’s connexion with the
Presbyterians; for which, his mind had been for some time in a state of
preparation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every change of religious
sentiment is important to the person who makes it, and ought to be gone into
with cautious deliberation. To be given to change is a great evil, and
indicates a weak and unsettled <i>mind. </i>On the other hand, to be afraid of
change is frequently the result of indifference to truth, or of sinful fear of
consequences. It is the duty of every Christian to follow the teaching of the
Spirit in the word of revelation, and to recollect that for his convictions he
must he accountable at last. The attempt to smother them is always improper;
and when successful, must injure the religious feelings of their subject. To
allow hopes or fears of a worldly nature to [[@Page:45]] overcome our
persuasion of what the word of God requires, is to forget the important
intimation of our Lord, — that, if any thing is loved more than Himself, it is
impossible to be his disciple. By such conduct the tribulations of the kingdom
may often be avoided, but the consolations and rewards of it will also be lost.
‘If any man serve me, let him follow me; and where I am, there shall also my servant
be; If any man serve me, him will my Father honour.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div>
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<div id="ftn1">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Baxter’s own Life, i. p. 97. et passim.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Review of the true nature of Schism.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn3">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> <span style="letter-spacing: .15pt;">Hist. of
the Puritans, </span>iii. chap. vi.<span style="letter-spacing: .15pt;"> p. 295.</span></span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn4">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Baillie’s Dissuasive, pp. 154-174.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000; font-size: 6.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn5">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[5]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Baxter’s own Life, part ii. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000; font-size: 6.5pt;">p. 140.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn6">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref6" name="_ftn6" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[6]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Baxter’s own Life, part ii. pp. 142-145.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn7">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref7" name="_ftn7" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[7]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> ‘Crosby’ History of the Baptists, i. pp. 176,
177.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn8">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref8" name="_ftn8" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[8]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Pref. to part ii.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn9">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref9" name="_ftn9" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[9]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Edward’s Gangrena, part I. p.58.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn10">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref10" name="_ftn10" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[10]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Neal iii. ch. vi. pp. 302-510.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn11">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref11" name="_ftn11" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[11]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Neal, RI, ch. vi. pp. 310, 311. Crosby, i. p.
188. </span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn12">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref12" name="_ftn12" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[12]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> p. 73.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn13">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref13" name="_ftn13" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[13]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> ib. 190.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn14">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref14" name="_ftn14" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[14]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Neal, iii. oh. vi. pp</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000; font-size: 8.5pt;">. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;">309, 310.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn15">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref15" name="_ftn15" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[15]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Areopagitica, Works, p. 393. Ed. 1697.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn16">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref16" name="_ftn16" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[16]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Works, vol. xix. p. 1.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn17">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref17" name="_ftn17" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[17]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Works, vol. xix. p. 8. </span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn18">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref18" name="_ftn18" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[18]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> <i>Ibid</i>.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn19">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref19" name="_ftn19" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[19]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Works, vol. xix, p. 273.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn20">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref20" name="_ftn20" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[20]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> The Petition and Advice were presented to
Parliament in 1657. So that Owen’s change of sentiment about religious liberty,
must have taken place in, or about, 1645.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn21">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref21" name="_ftn21" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[21]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Preface to Defence of Cotton against Cawdry,
Works, vol. xis. p. 367; pub. limited in 1658.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn22">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref22" name="_ftn22" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[22]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Works, vol. v. p.3.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn23">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref23" name="_ftn23" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[23]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Works, vol. xv. p. 5.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16786453275962472466noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6731045158786084518.post-3263674720879465802013-06-18T08:16:00.004-07:002013-11-23T11:16:12.508-08:00Memoirs of John Owen Volume One Chapter One<h2 style="text-align: center;">
MEMOIRS OF DR. OWEN.<o:p></o:p></h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6731045158786084518" name="_CHAP._I."></a>CHAP. I.<o:p></o:p></h2>
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Introduction — Family
of Owen — State of the Puritans — Owen’s Education — State of Oxford — Owen’s religious
Convictions — Leaves the University — Takes part with the Parliament — The
Civil War — Owen’s Conversion — Publishes his Display — Progress of Armenianism
— Presentation to the living of Forelham — Marries his first Wife.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
THE seventeenth century was the
age of illustrious events and illustrious men in Britain. The civil and
religious commotions which took place during that eventful period, the causes
in which they originated, and the effects with which they were followed, deserve
the attention of every British Christian, and are powerfully calculated to
excite his religious and patriotic feelings. While he will often have occasion
to drop the tear of pity over his bleeding country, he will frequently be
called to adore the wondrous operations of that glorious Being, ‘who rides in
the whirlwind, and directs the storm;’ who piloted the vessel which contained
our religion and liberties through the tempest which then threatened its
destruction, and finally secured its safety and repose.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In every rank and
profession there were then many distinguished individuals, whose independence
of mind in the cause of their country, whose laborious researches in various
departments of literature, or whose important discoveries in science and philosophy,
conferred honours on themselves and on the land of their birth, of which they
can never be deprived. The names of Pym, Hampden, Sidney, and Russel, will live
while the fabric of the British Constitution continues to be loved and r<i>espected;
</i>those of Locke and Boyle, of Wallis and Newton, can perish only with the
records of science and time. A Churchman cannot think of Hooker, Taylor,
Chillingworth, and Barrow, but with emotions of the profoundest delight and
veneration: and, while the cause of Non-conformity continues to be dear to
those whose ancestors defended and suffered for [[@Page:2]] it, the page
which records the virtues of Baxter and Bates, Howe and Owen, will always
secure attention and respect.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 6.5pt; letter-spacing: 0.8pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To Statesmen may be left the commemoration of those who then
shone in the cabinet, or distinguished themselves in the field. To Churchmen
properly belongs the task of recording the learning, piety, and sufferings of
their brethren. On a Dissenter naturally devolves the task of preserving the
memory of his forefathers. Should he be indifferent to their reputation and
their wrongs, who can be expected to assert them? and if he be zealous in their
cause, and anxious to vindicate their honour, the motive is creditable to his
feelings, whatever be the degree of success which may attend his attempt.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is rather surprising that, while the minutest researches
have been made into the lives of many obscure individuals, no separate work
should have been devoted to the life of John Owen. Mr. Clarkson, who preached
his funeral sermon, observed, ‘that the account which is due to the world of
this eminent man deserved a volume,’ which he hoped would soon make its
appearance. Cotton Mather, in that singular work ‘Magnalia Americana Christi,’
published twenty years afterwards, declared, ‘that the church of God was
wronged in that the life of the great John Owen was not written.’ About twenty
years after that, appeared, prefixed to the folio edition of his Sermons and
Tracts, ‘Memoirs of the Life of John Owen, D.D.’ but which, though they appear
to have been drawn up by Mr. A sty, a respectable Independent Minister in
London, with the assistance of Sir John Hartopp, who was many years a member of
the church of which Owen was pastor, and his particular friend, are both
inaccurate and imperfect, and do not contain so many pages as the Doctor had
written books. With the exception of these, and the scanty notices of general
biography, Owen is only known by means of his writings.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No necessity exists for stating the claims which John Owen has
to a distinct account of his life. Every theological scholar, every lover of
experimental piety, every reader of our civil and ecclesiastical history, has
heard of the name, and known something of the character, of Owen: — a man, ‘admired
when living, and adored when lost;’ [[@Page:3]] whose works yet praise him in the gates, and by which he will continue to
instruct and comfort the church for ages to Come.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those who believe that ‘God
bath made of one blood all nations of men,’ will never be flattered by the
pride of ancestry themselves, nor attach much importance to it in others. No
harm, however, can arise from noticing, when it can be done with any degree of
certainty, the particular line of the Adamic race to which a respected
individual owes his birth. Regardless, therefore, of Bishop Watson’s remark, ‘that
German and Welsh pedigrees are subjects of ridicule to most Englishmen,’ we
shall proceed to give a short account of the family of Owen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John Owen was paternally
descended from Lhewylin, second son of Gwrgan ap Ithel, Lord or Prince of
Glamorgan, a wise and pacific ruler, who died in the year 3 030; and Gwrgan ap
Ithel, according to the Welsh genealogies, was descended in the thirty-first
generation from the great Caractacus. Jestyn, eldest son of Gwrgan ap Ithel,
progenitor of the last of the five royal tribes of Wales, was, in the year
1090, dispossessed of the castle of Cardiff by Sir Robert Fitz Hammon, a Norman
adventurer, who,, with his followers, took possession of Jestyn’ dominions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Humphrey Owen,
grandfather of the subject of the history, married Susan, daughter of Griffith,
a younger son of Lewis Owen, Esq., of Llwyn, near Dolgelly, a descendant of
Ednowain ap Bradwin, Lord of Merioneth, and head of one of the fifteen tribes
of North Wales, whose arms <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Dr. Owen quartered with those of Gwrgan.<sup> <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2" title=""><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><sup><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[2]</span></sup><!--[endif]--></a> </sup>This Lewis Owen was Vice-Chamberlain of North Wales, and Baron of the
Exchequer of North Wales; on his way to the Montgomeryshire assizes in 1555, he
was attacked in the woods of Mowddy, at a place now called from the deed,
Llidiait y Barwn, by a band of outlaws who had vowed to revenge on him the
capture of fourscore of their companions; and being deserted by all his
attendants, excepting his son-in-law John Liwyd, of Ceiswyn, he fell a
sacrifice to their fury.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[[@Page:4]] Humphrey Owen
had fifteen sons, the youngest of whom was Henry, the father of the subject of
our history.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Henry Owen, the youngest
son of this numerous family, was bred to the Church. After studying at Oxford, he
taught a school for some time at Stokenchurch. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> He was afterwards chosen minister of Stadham, in the county of Oxford, <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> where he remained many years. In the latter part
of his life he became rector of Harpsden, in the same county, where he died, on
the eighteenth of September, 1649, in the sixty-third year of his age, and was
buried in the chancel of the church. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[5]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> ‘My father,’ said his son, ‘was a Non-conformist all his days, and a
painful labourer in the vineyard of the Lord?’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn6" name="_ftnref6" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[6]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> He was reckoned a strict Puritan, for his more than ordinary zeal, in those
early days of reformation. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn7" name="_ftnref7" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[7]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The situation of the
Puritans had for many years been gradually becoming more unpleasant and
intolerable. The haughty spirit of Elizabeth had made their yoke heavy, but the
vanity and dogmatism of her successor rendered it almost insupportable. The
great body of them had no difference with their opponents about the lawfulness
of civil establishments of Christianity. They entertained no doubts as to the
propriety of using the sword, under certain modifications, for the purpose of
producing unity of sentiment, and uniformity of practice in religion. They
objected not so much to the interference of the civil power in the affairs of
the church, as to the <i>mode </i>and <i>degree </i>of that interference. ‘They
were for <i>one </i>religion, <i>one </i>uniform mode of worship, <i>one </i>form
of discipline for the whole nation, with which all must comply outwardly,
whatever were their inward sentiments. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn8" name="_ftnref8" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[8]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> — The standard of uniformity, according to the Bishops, was the Queen’s authority
and the laws of the land; according to the Puritans, the decrees of provincial
and national synods allowed and enforced by the civil magistrate: but neither
party were for admitting that liberty of conscience and freedom of profession,
which is every man’s right as far as is consistent with the peace [[@Page:5]] of
the civil government under which he lives. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn9" name="_ftnref9" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[9]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Their objections to the Church of England respected chiefly the King’ supremacy,
and the alleged unscripturalness ofsome of its offices, and parts of its
liturgy. Had the Crown resigned its authority to church rulers; had the offices
of Metropolitan, Archbishop, and some others been abrogated; had the liturgy
been reformed, the sign of the cross in Baptism, kneeling at the Supper, and
bowing at the name of Jesus been done away; had they been allowed to wear a
round instead of a square cap, and a black gown in place of a white surplice,
the great mass of the early Puritans and even of the later Non-conformists
would have become the warmest friends of the Church. They were not so much <i>Dissenters
</i>from its constitution, as <i>Non-conformists </i>to some of its requisitions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These things are stated,
not to insinuate that the points in dispute were of small importance, (nothing
being unimportant Which is enforced on the conscience as part of religion,) but
to shew what they really were, and to enable the reader to understand the
nature and progress of those religious discussions, which for a long period
occupied so large a portion of the public attention. It is not wonderful that
the sentiments of the Puritans on many subjects were imperfect. It is rather
surprising that they saw so much, and that they were able so boldly to contend
for what they believed to be the cause of God. It can hardly be doubted that
had their object been accomplished, the Church of England would have been much
improved; and thus, so far as externals are concerned, it would have been
brought nearer to the model of Scripture, and rendered more worthy of the
designation which has often been applied to it, ‘The glory and bulwark of the
Reformation.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
High expectations were
formed by the Puritans from the accession of James I. to the throne of England.
But <span style="letter-spacing: .35pt;">alas! they were all most miserably
disappointed. James </span>had been educated a Presbyterian, was a professed
Calvinist, and a sworn Covenanter; but after he obtained the <span style="letter-spacing: .3pt;">British crown he became a high Episcopalian, a
determined Arminian, and a secret friend to Popery. His bad principles,
injudicious alliances, and arbitrary conduct, [[@Page:6]]</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8.5pt; letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"> </span>laid the foundation of much
future misery to his country; which burst like a torrent upon his successor,
and finally swept his family from the throne. The Hampton Court conference,
held in 1603, discovered the high ideas which be entertained of kingly
prerogative, and how much he was disposed to domineer over the consciences of
his subjects. ‘No Bishop, no King’ was his favourite maxim. ‘I will have one
doctrine, one discipline, one religion in substance and in ceremony,’ said his
Majesty, in the plenitude of his wisdom and authority; and concluded this mock
discussion, in which the Puritans were browbeat and insulted, by avowing that
he would make them conform, root them out of the land, or do worse.<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8.5pt; letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For once, James was as good as his word, and every thing was
done which was likely to render his conscientious subjects miserable, or drive
them to extremities. The same measures were persevered in, and increased in
severity, by the infatuated and unfortunate Charles. In consequence, many left
the land of their fathers, and found a refuge or a grave in a distant wilderness;
some wandered about in England, subject to many privations and hardships, doing
good as they had opportunity; while others endeavoured to reconcile the rights
of conscience with submission to the powers that were, and prayed and hoped for
better days.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of this last description was Henry Owen. A full account of
his family is no longer to be obtained; it appears, however, that he had at
least three sons and a daughter. His eldest son, William, was a clergyman; he
is described in the records of the Herald’s College ‘Of Remnam, in the county
of Berks, parson of Ewelme in the county of Oxford,’ where he died in 1660, in
the forty-eighth year of his age. His third son, Henry, appears to have chosen
a military profession. He went over to Ireland with Cromwell, as an ensign, and
there seems to have acquired some landed property. He died before his brother,
but his son succeeded to the Doctor’ estates in England. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn10" name="_ftnref10" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[10]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His daughter married Mr. John Hartelitfe, minister of Harding,
in Oxfordshire, and afterwards of Windsor. Little is known of him; but his son
made some figure. He was [[@Page:7]] educated
for the Church, and in 1681 succeeded, after a keen contest, Mr. John Goad, as
master of Merchant Tailor’ School. In the contest, he appears to have been
assisted by his uncle, who exerted his influence among the London merchants, on
behalf of his nephew. His predecessor Goad was ejected on account of his popish
sentiments. Mr. Hartcliffe wrote several treatises, became D. D. in 1681, and
died in 1702, Canon of Windsor. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn11" name="_ftnref11" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[11]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
It is said he once attempted to preach before Charles II. but not being able to
utter one word of the sermon, he descended from the pulpit as great an orator
as he went up, treating his Majesty with a silent meeting. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn12" name="_ftnref12" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[12]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
John, the second son, was
born at Stadham, in the year 1616; and after receiving, probably from his
father, the first rudiments of education, was initiated into the principles of classical
learning by Edward Sylvester, master of a private academy at Oxford. This
respectable tutor, who not only taught Greek and Latin; but made or corrected
Latin discourses, and Greek and Latin verses, for members of the University,
who found it necessary to exhibit, what they were unable to produce, lived to
see a number of his pupils make a distinguished figure in the world. Among
these, besides Owen, were Dr. John Wilkins, celebrated for his. philosophical
talents; Dr. Henry Wilkinson, Margaret Professor in the University during the
Commonwealth, and afterwards a celebrated Non-conformist; and a man better known
than either of the preceding, William Chillingworth, the author of ‘The
Religion of Protestants,’ a work which confers honour on the age and country
that produced it. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn13" name="_ftnref13" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; letter-spacing: .2pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[13]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At school, Owen appears
to have made rapid progress, for by the time he was only twelve years of age,
he was fit for the University, and actually admitted a student of Queen’s College,
Oxford. We cannot doubt, that his father afforded him all the assistance in his
power in the acquisition of learning, as he knew that he had no property to
give him, and that his son would have to make his way through the world, by his
own exertions. Nothing perhaps is more [[@Page:8]] unfavourable to genius and
industry, than being born to a fortune already provided. It frequently destroys
that excitement, which is absolutely necessary to counteract natural indolence;
while it encourages those feelings of pride and self-importance, which are
destructive of application and success. Hence, while the heir to titles and
wealth has passed through the world in inglorious obscurity, the younger son
has frequently supported and increased the honours of his family.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When Owen joined the
University, and while he continued at it, few of its leading members were
distinguished either for their learning or their talents. The Provost of his
College was Dr. Christopher Potter, originally a Puritan, but after Laud’ influence
at Court prevailed, he became one of the creatures of that ambitious Prelate,
and a supporter of his Arminian sentiments. Wood says he was learned and
religious; but he produced nothing which discovers much of either; except a
translation from the Italian of Father Paul’ history of the Quarrels of Pope
Paul V. with the State of Venice.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn14" name="_ftnref14" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[14]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The Vice-Chancellors of the University, during Owen’s residence, were Accepted
Frewen, afterwards Archbishop of York; William Smith, Warden of Wadham College;
Brian Duppa, Bishop of Winchester, of whose qualifications Wood gives rather a
curious account: — ‘He was a man of excellent parts, and every way qualified
for his function, especially as to the comeliness of his person, and
gracefulness of his deportment, which rendered him worthy of the service of a
court, and every way fit to stand before Princes;’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn15" name="_ftnref15" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[15]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Robert Pink, Warden of New College, a zealous defender of the rights of the
University, and who was much esteemed by James I. for his dexterity in
disputing, as he was also by Charles I. for his eminent loyalty; <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn16" name="_ftnref16" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[16]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
and Dr. Richard Baylie, President of St. John’s College, and Dean of Salisbury.
The Margaret Professor of Divinity, was Dr. Samuel Fell, who was advanced by
Laud to the Deanery of Lichfield. He was ejected from all his preferments by
the Parliamentary visitors in 1647. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn17" name="_ftnref17" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[17]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The, Hebrew Professor was John Morris, of whom we know nothing as an oriental
scholar; and Henry Stringer was Professor of Greek, of [[@Page:9]] whose
classical attainments we know as little. Barlow is almost the only name we are
now disposed to associate with learning: all the others<sub>.</sub> are either
forgotten or unknown. How different the state of the University became, in
regard to men of eminence and learning, when Owen filled its highest offices,
will afterwards appear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Queen’s College, Owen
studied mathematics and philosophy under Thomas Barlow, then fellow of the
College, of which he was afterwards chosen Provost, when Owen was Vice-chancellor.
He was made a bishop in 1676, and lived till after the revolution. Barlow was a
Calvinist in theology, an Aristotelian in philosophy, and an Episcopalian in
church government. He was a man of eminent talents, and as great a master of
the learned languages, and of the works of the celebrated authors who have
written in them, as any man of his age.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Owen studied music,
for recreation, under Dr. Thomas Wilson, a celebrated performer on the flute,
who was in constant attendance for some years on Charles I. who used to Lean on
his shoulder during the time he played. He was made Professor of Music in
Oxford by Owen, when he was Vice-chancellor of the University. This shews that
the men of that period were neither so destitute of taste, nor so morose and
unsocial as they have been often represented. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn18" name="_ftnref18" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[18]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moderate talents,
assisted by diligent application, will frequently do more than genius of a much
higher order, whose efforts are irregular and desultory. But when talents and laborious
exertion are combined with the fervour of youth and the aids of learning, much
may be expected as the result. Our young student pursued the various branches
of education with incredible diligence; allowing himself, for several years,
not more than four hours sleep in a night. It is impossible not to applaud the
ardour which this application discovers. The more time a student can redeem
from sleep, and other indulgences, the better. But it is not every constitution
that is capable of such an expenditure; and many an individual, in struggling
beyond his strength for the prize of literary renown, has succeeded at the
expense of his life, or of the [[@Page:10]] irreparable injury of his future
comfort. Owen himself declared afterwards, that he would gladly part with all
the learning he had acquired in younger life, by sitting up late at study, if
he could but recover the health he had lost by it. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn19" name="_ftnref19" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[19]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
He who prefers mercy to sacrifice, requires nothing in ordinary circumstances
beyond what the human system is fairly capable of bearing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owen appears to have been
blessed with a sound and vigorous constitution. This, no doubt, enabled him to
use greater freedoms than he durst otherwise have done; while to brace and
strengthen it, he was not inattentive to those<span style="color: #5a3e2b;"> </span>recreations
which tend to counteract the pernicious effects of sedentary occupation. He was
fond of violent and robust exertion, — such as leaping, throwing the bar,
ringing<sup>,</sup> bells, &c. Such diversions may appear to some
ridiculous, and unbecoming; but this arises from inconsideration. That kind and
degree of exercise which are necessary for preserving the proper temperament of
the human system, are not only lawful, but a part of the duty which we owe to
ourselves. Such recreations are not to be compared with those fashionable
levities, and amusements, which only tend to vitiate the moral and intellectual
powers, and to enervate rather than strengthen, the constitution. It is much
more gratifying to see the academic robes waving in the wind, than shining at
the midnight dance, or adorning the front ranks of a theatre.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the 11th of June,
1632, Owen was admitted to the degree
of B. A. and on the 27th of April, 1635, at the age of nineteen, be commenced
Master of Arts, <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn20" name="_ftnref20" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[20]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> a
designation which, we cannot doubt, his learning and attainments entitled him
to enjoy. When literary degrees are spurs to application, and the rewards of
merit, they answer a useful purpose. But when they come to be indiscriminately
bestowed, they lose their value, are despised by the genuine scholar, and are
sought after only by those on whom they can confer no honour or distinction.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During this period of his
life, his mind seems to have been scarcely, if at all, influenced by religious
principle. His whole ambition was to raise himself to some eminent [[@Page:11]]
station in church or state, to either of which he was then indifferent. He used
afterwards to acknowledge, that, being <span style="letter-spacing: .15pt;">naturally
of an aspiring mind, and very desirous of honour </span><span style="letter-spacing: -.05pt;">and preferment, he applied very closely to his studies, in the hope of
accomplishing these ends; and that then the honour </span><span style="letter-spacing: .15pt;">of God, and the good of his country were objects
subservient to the advancement of his own glory or interest. Had he continued
in this state of mind, he would probably have succeeded; but it would have been
in another cause than that to which he was finally devoted, Instead of a
Puritan, he might have been found among their persecutors; and his name have
descended to posterity in the roll of state oppressors, or secular churchmen.
Many young persons have been devoted by their parents to the ministry, and have
cultivated their talents in the hope of rising in it, who would have conferred
a blessing on themselves, as well as on the church and the world, had they
found another path to earthly glory. Some radical mistake must exist when the
church of Christ becomes the theatre of worldly ambition. The merchandise of
the ‘souls of men,’ is the most infamous traffic in which man can engage, and
constitutes one of the chief of the delinquencies charged on the mystical
Babylon.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Owen, however, was
unconsciously to himself, preparing for another career. He was now under a
higher, though unperceived influence, acquiring the capacity for using those
weapons which he was destined to wield with mighty effect against all the
adversaries of the gospel. ‘Many purposes are in a man’s heart, but the counsel
of the Lord that shall stand.’ He probably often exulted in the prospect of
wealth and honour, while God was preparing him to suffer many things for his
name’ sake, and for important usefulness in his cause.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The limited resources of
his father prevented his allowing him any liberal support at the university;
but this deficiency was amply made up by an uncle, the proprietor of a
considerable estate in Wales; who, having no children of his own, intended to
make him his heir. Although this intention was not carried into effect, his
nephew must have felt grateful on account of the assistance afforded during his
early years.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
[[@Page:12]] Previously
to leaving the university, which took place in his twenty-first year, <i>he </i>appears
to have become the subject of religious convictions. By what means these <i>were
</i>produced, it is now impossible to ascertain. He had received a religious
education in his father’ house, and early impressions then made, may have been
revived and deepened by circumstances which afterwards occurred. The
impressions were very powerful, and appear to have deeply affected his mind,
and even his health. The course of spiritual conflict through which he passed,
undoubtedly fitted him for his work at a future period; and probably
communicated that tone of spiritual feeling to his soul which runs through all
his writings. The words of the apostle are no less applicable to mental than to
bodily sufferings; ‘who comforteth us in all our tribulations, that we may <i>be
</i>able to comfort <i>them </i>who are in any trouble, by the comfort
wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.’ If the spiritual physician knows
nothing, from experience, of the malady of his patient, he is but imperfectly
qualified to administer relief.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was while under these
religious convictions that Owen left the university; and as they chiefly led to
this event, it is necessary to notice the circumstances which occasioned his
secession. For several years a grand crisis between the court and the country
had been approaching. The aggressions of the former on the civil and religious
liberties of the latter, had become so numerous and so flagrant, as to occasion
a very general spirit of discontent. In an evil day, Charles had advanced to
the primacy of England, William Laud, a man of undoubted talents and learning;
but of high monarchical principles; fond of pomp and ceremony; and, though no
friend to the Pope at Rome, having little objection to be Pope in England. His
arbitrary conduct in the star-chamber, his passion for ceremony in the church,
and his love of Arminianism in the pulpit, hastened his own fate, and paved the
way for that of his master. The best of the clergy were either silenced, or
obliged to leave the country. High churchmen engrossed almost every civil as
well as ecclesiastical office, to the disappointment of many, and to the
vexation of all.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The same year, 1637, that
produced Hampden’s [[@Page:13]] resistance of illegal taxation, drove Owen from
Oxford, in consequence of the ecclesiastical tyranny of Laud. Among the other
situations, which that ambitious churchman had monopolized, was that of
chancellor of Oxford. In virtue of his office, he caused a new body of statutes
to be drawn up for the university; in the preface to which he distinctly
intimated that he considered the days of Mary better than those of Edward; and
enjoined obedience to certain superstitious rites on the members of the
university, on pain of being expelled. Though the mind of Owen was not fully
enlightened by the gospel, his conscience was brought so far under its
authority, that he could not submit to these human exactions. On the one side,
lay all his worldly prospects, on the other, the approbation of Heaven. He had
the faith and. courage to embrace the choice of Moses; and relinquished the
pleasures of the world, rather than sacrifice the honour of his God.<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This change of feeling
and sentiment was soon discovered by his former friends; who, as usually
happens in such cases, forsook the man whom neither the king nor the primate
would delight to honour. The result of refusing to submit, and of the
opposition of Laud’ party, was his leaving the university, never to return,
until he who disposes equally the lot of nations and of individuals, placed him
at the head of that celebrated body.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During this struggle, the
mind of Owen appears to have been in great spiritual perplexity; which,
combined with his external circumstances, and the discouraging prospects then
presented, threw him into a state of profound melancholy. For a quarter of a
year he avoided almost all intercourse with men; could scarcely be induced to
speak; and when he did say any thing, it was in so disordered a manner as
rendered him a wonder to many. Only those who have experienced the bitterness
of a wounded spirit can form an idea of the distress he must have suffered.
Compared with this anguish of soul, all the afflictions which befal a sinner
are but trifles. One drop of that wrath which shall finally fill the cup of the
ungodly, poured into the mind, is enough to poison all the comforts of life,
and to spread mourning, lamentation, and woe over the countenance. It is not in
the least wonderful that cases of [[@Page:14]] this kind sometimes occur; but,
considering the character of man, rather surprising that they are not more
frequent. Were men disposed to reflect seriously on their present condition,
and to contemplate their future prospects; nothing but the gospel could
preserve them from the deepest despair. To this severe distress, he perhaps
alludes, among other things, when he says, ‘The<i> </i>variety of outward
providences and dispensations wherewith I have myself been exercised, together
with the inward trials with which they have been attended, have left such a
constant sense and impression on my spirit, that I cannot but own a serous call
to men to beware.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn21" name="_ftnref21" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[21]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
Such a conflict of feeling, and of so long continuance, it would have <i>been </i>strange
had he ever forgotten; and, ‘knowing the terrors of the Lord,’ stranger still,
had <i>he ceased to </i>beseech men to avoid them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is the opprobrium of
Oxford that Locke was expelled from its bowers; it is little less to its
disgrace that such a man as Owen was compelled to withdraw from them. The
treatment which both these learned men experienced in this celebrated seat of
loyalty and learning, probably contributed, in no small degree, to produce that
deep-rooted dislike to civil and ecclesiastical domination, which appears so
conspicuously in their writings. That which men intended for evil, however, God
overruled for good. The influence of Owen’s early secession from that body
which holds the right of the church, or rather of the king, to decree ‘rites
and ceremonies,’ was felt by him during the whole course of his future life.
There is a comfort connected with following the dictates of conscience in
obeying the word of the Lord, which imparts a vigour and independence to the
human character, that can never be felt by the time-serving votaries of church
or state; and which is infinitely more valuable than all the honours of the
one, or the emoluments of the other. It is common to treat the conduct of such
persons as Owen, who left the church for refusing to submit to the interference
of human authority, as unnecessarily punctilious, and as resulting from a
narrow conformation of mind. But let it be remembered, that it was not a
particular rite or ceremony to which they <i>refused </i>submission, so much as
to the principle which they [[@Page:15]] were required to recognize. The
greatness of their minds appeared in their accurate investigations of religious
truth, and in their willingly exposing themselves to severe suffering for its
sake. The strong view which Owen took of the matter, is well expressed in the
following passage: — <span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘I shall take leave to
say what is upon my heart, and what, the Lord assisting, I shall willingly
endeavour to make good against all the world, that that principle, that the
church bath power to institute any thing or ceremony belonging to the worship
of God, either as to matter or manner, beyond the orderly observance of such
circumstances as necessarily attend such ordinances as Christ himself bath
instituted, lies at the bottom of all the horrible superstition and idolatry,
of all the confusion, blood, persecution, and wars, that have for so long a
season spread themselves over the face of the Christian world; and that it is the design of a great part of Revelation to
discover this truth. And I doubt not but that the great controversy which God
hath had with this nation, for so many years, was upon this account, that,
contrary to that glorious light of the gospel which shone among us, the wills
and fancies of men, under the name of order, decency, and the authority of the
church (a <i>chimera </i>that none knew what it was, nor wherein the power of
it did consist, nor in whom it resided), were imposed on men in the worship of
God. Hence was the Spirit of God in prayer derided, hence was the powerful
preaching of the gospel despised, hence was the sabbath decried, hence was
holiness stigmatized and persecuted. And for what? That Jesus Christ might be
deposed from the sole privilege and power of making laws in his church, that
the true husband might be thrust aside, and adulterers of his spouse embraced !
that task-masters might be appointed over his house which “he never gave to his
church,” Eph. iv. 12. That a ceremonious, pompous worship, drawn from Pagan,
Jewish, and Antichristian observances, might be introduced; of all which there
is not one word or iota in the whole book of God. This then, they who hold
communion with Christ are careful of; they will admit nothing, practise
nothing, in the worship of God, private or public, but what they have his
warrant for. [[@Page:16]] Unless it comes in his name, with Thus saith the Lord
Jesus, they will not hear an angel from heaven.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn22" name="_ftnref22" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[22]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The circumstance of Owen’s
leaving Oxford, affords Anthony Wood, who rejoices to slander Puritans and
Round-Heads, an opportunity of accusing him of perjury. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn23" name="_ftnref23" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[23]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
When Owen joined the university, he very probably took the oaths, and made the
usual subscription. When he saw them to be unlawful, or felt that they involved
consequences of which he had not been aware, he renounced them. If this be
perjury, it remains to be considered, whether the guilt lies with those who
impose oaths and subscriptions on boys, which they cannot understand, and
which, when they come to be men, they repent they ever should have taken; or
with those who are thus innocently insnared. Before such conduct can be charged
with perjury, the lawfulness of the oath must be shewn; as unlawful vows
require repentance, and not fulfilment. All such subscriptions are the result
of unrighteous impositions, impede the progress of truth, insnare the minds of
the subscribers, and operate as a bounty on hypocrisy. They secure a monopoly
of privileges to the chartered corporation; and exclude from the enjoyment of
advantages that ought to be common, a large portion of the principle and talent
of the country.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before he left college,
he received orders from Bishop John Bancroft, nephew to the celebrated
Archbishop of the same name, who occupied the diocese of Oxford from 1632 to
1640. After leaving it, he lived for some time as chaplain to Sir Robert
Dormer, of Ascot in Oxfordshire, and as tutor to his eldest son. When he left
him, he became chaplain to Lord Lovelace, of Hurly in Berkshire. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn24" name="_ftnref24" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[24]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
In this situation he continued till the civil war broke out, when, Lord
Lovelace espousing the cause of the king, and Owen that of the parliament, a
separation naturally took place. This step was attended with very important
consequences to Owen. His uncle, being a determined Royalist, was so enraged at
his nephew for attaching himself to the parliament, that he turned him at once
out of favour, settled his estate on another, and died without leaving him [[@Page:17]] any thing. A step, which was attended with such
consequences was not likely to be rashly taken. They shew that he must have
been influenced by some very powerful considerations, and that, having taken
his ground, he was not to be driven from it, by regard to the favour of
friends, or the sordid interests of this world. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn25" name="_ftnref25" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[25]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The civil war has been often
rashly and unjustly charged upon the Puritans or Non-conformists<span style="color: #442f17;">;</span> and, notwithstanding the force of evidence with
which the accusation has been repelled, the charge still continues to be
repeated. The enemies, and even the mistaken friends of religion, endeavour to
fix the crime of rebellion on men, who deserve to be held in everlasting
remembrance, instead of being execrated, for what they did. Religious
dissatisfaction was only one of the many causes of that tremendous convulsion,
and religious persons composed but one of the classes which produced it. The
continual breaches made on the constitution by Charles I. from the period of
his accession to the throne, till he was forced to leave it; — his arbitrary
treatment of his parliaments; his persevering attempts to render himself
independent of their authority; his illegal modes of raising money; the
oppression and cruelty with which those who asserted their civil or religious
rights were treated, were the real causes of the war. And that these measures
were prompted chiefly by a high church and ultra monarchical party, which had
the management of the king, and which goaded him onto the last, is evident to
all who have paid the least attention to the history of the period.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So far from the Non-conformists
being the authors of the rebellion, as it is called, Clarendon himself
acknowledges that ‘the major part of the long parliament consisted of men who
had no mind to break the peace of the kingdom, or to make any considerable
alteration in the government of church or state.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn26" name="_ftnref26" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[26]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
As an evidence of their attachment to the church, seventeen days after their
first meeting, they made an order that none should sit in the house, but such
as would receive the communion according to the church of England. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn27" name="_ftnref27" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[27]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The Earl of Essex, the Parliamentary General, was an Episcopalian; the Admiral [[@Page:18]]
who seized the king’ ships, and employed
them against him, was the same; Sir John Hotham, who shut the gates of Hull
against him, was a churchman; the same may be affirmed of Sir Henry Vane, Sen.;
of Lenthal, the speaker; of the celebrated Pym, and of most of the other
leading persons in parliament, and in the army: so that it is clear as noon
day, that whatever fault attaches to the civil war must be imputed not to the
Non-conformists exclusively, but to the church of England, whose members were
first and deepest in the quarrel. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn28" name="_ftnref28" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[28]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The object, for a
considerable time, of that momentous contest on the part of the community, was
a change of men and measures, and not a subversion of the constitution of
either church or state. Had Charles driven off his popish and unconstitutional
counsellors; consented to govern by regular parliaments; been sincere in
fulfilling his promises; granted even a limited toleration to his persecuted
subjects, and changed some of his most unadvised and unpopular measures: he
might have retrieved his affairs, established his throne, saved the lives of
many thousands of his subjects, and of more than fifty millions of money to his
country, — besides preventing that dreadful catastrophe which men of all
parties must deplore.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The war increased the
number of Presbyterians, and augmented their influence by the calling in of the
Scots; it afforded opportunity to the Independents to propagate their
sentiments, and to multiply their disciples; it occasioned also the increase of
the Baptists, and of some smaller sects: but that any, or all of these
religious parties, were the causes of the war, the chief instruments in
carrying it on, or justly chargeable with the excesses which took place, is
unsupported by evidence, and contrary to clearly established facts.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The situation of
religious people during this trying period, must have been very perplexing.
Neutrality was scarcely possible, especially on the part of such as held rank
or office in the country. Those who joined the king were counted enemies to the
liberties of England; those who joined the parliament were reckoned enemies to
legitimate authority. Politics, however unfriendly to the [[@Page:19]] growth
of religion, required to be studied, that the subject might know his duty. All
the Non-conformists naturally took part with the house of commons, as they saw
clearly that nothing short of their ruin was determined by the king. Most of
those who wished well to true religion, though attached to the church, acted in
the same manner; as it was evident, that religion was more at heart with the
parliamentary party than with the king’s. The friends of liberty, of every
description, of course supported the popular side of the constitution against
the encroachments of prerogative. It is exceedingly unfair to charge those who
acted in this manner with rebellion. The house of commons forms an essential
part of the British Constitution, as well as the monarch. At this lamentable
period, the constitution was divided against itself. War was openly maintained
between the king and the parliament. Liberty and redress were the professed
objects of the one party, power that of the other. If you took part with the
king, you were liable to be punished by the parliament; and, if you supported
the parliament, you were in danger from the wrath of the king. So long as the
constitution was thus divided, no man could be justly chargeable with crime, in
following either the one party or the other, as his judgment dictated.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As Owen had no other
connexion with party politics, than what arose from necessity, a view of the
progress of civil discord, or a defence of the measures pursued by the
parliament, cannot be expected here. No doubt can be entertained of his
sincerity, and as conscience evidently directed the part which he took, had the
cause been even more doubtful than it appears to me to have been, he ought to
have the full benefit of this plea. ‘Many, no doubt,’ says the late Rev. Thomas
Scott, a respectable minister of the Church of England, who obtained an undue
ascendancy among the Puritans, in the turbulent days of Charles the ‘First, and
even before that time, were factions, ambitious hypocrites; hut I must think,
that the tree of liberty, sober and legitimate liberty, <i>civil and religious,
</i>under the shadow of which, we, in the establishment as well as others,
repose in peace, and the fruit of which we gather, was planted by the Puritans,
and watered, if not by [[@Page:20]]<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8.5pt; letter-spacing: 0.8pt;"> </span>their blood,
at least by their tears and sorrows. Yet, it is the modern fashion to feed
delightfully on the fruit, and then revile, if not curse, those who planted and
watered it.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn29" name="_ftnref29" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[29]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a> Owen’s
patron having joined the king’ army, he went up to London, where he was an
entire stranger, and took lodgings in Charter House yard. Though the violence
of his convictions had subsided after the first severe conflict, they still
continued to disturb his peace, and nearly five years elapsed from their
commencement till he obtained solid comfort. This was a long time to be
harassed with fears and despondency; and may probably have been occasioned by
his inquiries taking a direction which increased the evil they were intended to
remove. The dawn of light, however, was now at hand. The glory of the gospel
speedily dispersed his darkness, and produced feelings of joy, corresponding
with his former depression, and of which he never seems to have been altogether
again deprived.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During his residence in
the Charter House, he accompanied his cousin Mr. Owen, a respectable brewer in
the city, to Aldermanbury church to hear Mr. Edmund Calamy, a man of great note
for his eloquence as a preacher, and for his boldness as a leader of the
Presbyterian party. By some circumstance, unexplained, Mr. Calamy was prevented
from preaching that day. In consequence of which, and of not knowing who was to
preach, many left the church. Owen’s friend urged him to go and hear Mr.
Jackson, the minister of ‘St. Michael’, Wood-street, a man of prodigious
application as a scholar, and of considerable celebrity as a preacher. Being
seated, however, and unwilling to walk further, he refused to leave the church
till he should see who was to preach. At last a country minister, unknown to
the congregation, stepped into the pulpit, and after praying very fervently,
took for his text, Matt. viii. 26. Why are ye fearful? O ye of little faith The
very reading of the text appears to have impressed him, and led him to pray
most earnestly that the Lord would bless the discourse to his soul. The prayer
was heard; for in that sermon, the minister was directed to answer the very
objections, which [[@Page:21]] he had commonly brought against himself; and
though the same answers had often occurred to him, they had not before afforded
him any relief. But now, Jehovah’ time of mercy had arrived, and the truth was
received, not as the word of man, but as the word of the living and true God.
The sermon was a very plain one, the preacher was never known; but the effect
was mighty through the blessing of God.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All instruments are
efficient in the hand of the Great Spirit. It is not by might or by power, that
the Lord frequently effects the greatest works; but by means apparently feeble,
and even contemptible. Calamy was a more eloquent and polished preacher than
this country stranger, and yet Owen had, perhaps, heard him often in vain. Had
he left the church, as was proposed, he might have <i>been </i>disappointed
elsewhere; but he remained, and enjoyed the blessing. The facts now recorded
may afford encouragement and reproof, both to ministers and hearers. It may not
always be practicable to hear whom we admire; but if he be a man of God, an
eminent blessing may accompany his labours. The country minister may never have
known, till he arrived in another world, that he had been instrumental in
relieving the mind of John Owen. Many similar occurrences are never known here.
How encouraging is this to the faithful labourer! It may appear strange to
some, that the same truths should be productive of effect at one time, and not
at another. But those who<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
are at all acquainted
with the progress of the gospel among men will not be surprised. The success of
Christianity, in every instance, is the effect of Divine, sovereign influence;
and that is exerted in a manner exceedingly mysterious to us. The wind bloweth
where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence
it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is ‘born of the Spirit.’
The darkness of Owen’s mind was now happily removed; his health, which had been
impaired by depression of spirits, was restored, and he was filled with joy and
peace in believing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The long and heavy
depression which Owen had laboured under, by his own account, had greatly
subdued his natural vanity and ambition. The circumstances of [[@Page:22]]
his conversion convinced him of the utter
insufficiency of mere learning to accomplish the salvation of men. His own
experience must have simplified his views of the gospel, and of the mode of
stating it to others; and contributed to impart that spiritual unction to his
preaching and writing, by which they are eminently distinguished. When, or
where, he began his labours in the ministry, we cannot discover. It is very
probable that he commenced in London, and about the period of this remarkable
change; not long, perhaps, before his appearance as an author, in which
capacity we shall now proceed to view him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While living in Charter
House yard, he published his ‘Display of Arminianism, &c.’ 4to. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn30" name="_ftnref30" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[30]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
A work which deserves attention on its own account, from its being the first
performance of our Author, and from having contributed to lay the foundation of
his future reputation. The imprimatur is dated March 2d, 1642. It is highly
probable, that the unhappy state of his own mind, was occasioned by some
misunderstanding of the subjects which the Arminian controversy embraces; and
that this led him so fully to investigate them, as this tract discovers he had
done. As it appeared soon after he had obtained comfort, a great part of it
must have been written before, or at least, so fully digested in his mind, that
he could soon put it together after he got possession of the key which unlocks
most of the difficulties.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Arminian discussion
involves a variety of important points, some of which are not peculiar to
Christianity; and which have been the fruitful sources of fierce contention.
Milton represents the fallen angels themselves, as disputing on some of them,
and with no better success than men.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph">
‘Others apart sat
on a kill retir’d<br />
In thought more elevate; and reason’d high <br />
Of Providence, foreknowledge, will and fate, <br />
Fix’d fate, freewill, foreknowledge absolute; <br />
And found no end in wand’ring mazes lost.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The discussions of the
ancient philosophers about the <i>Origo Mali; </i>the disputes of the Fathers
and Schoolmen, and of the Jesuits and Janscnists, about grace and
predestination; and the altercations of modern philosophers, [[@Page:23]] respecting
liberty and necessity, are all related to the Arminian controversy, and may all
be traced to a common cause, — the desire to know what God has not revealed,
and to reconcile apparent difficulties in the government of heaven, with the
constitution of man. What the dark ages could not conceal, or popery itself
subdue, the Reformation was more likely to revive than to extinguish.
Accordingly, the work of Erasmus, De Libero Arbitrio,’ and the reply of Luther,
De Servo Arbitrio,’ shew how early these subjects occupied the attention of the
Reformers, and with what keenness they engaged in their discussion. Calvin took
high ground in this controversy; and, both by his talents and learning, was
peculiarly fitted to explore the niceties of theological and metaphysical
debate. His leading views, which he stated with great perspicuity, and defended
with uncommon ability, were both more scriptural, and more philosophical, than
those to which they were opposed; but in his minor details and illustrations,
he has sometimes expressed himself incautiously, and has afforded too much room
for Arminians to dispute, and for Antinomians to abuse his doctrines.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Long before the time of
Atminius, some of the principles which he brought forward, had been introduced
into the Low Countries; but were prevented from making much progress, by the
vigilance of the clergy, and the opposition of the magistrates. When published
by him, they experienced both support and opposition. He died after the
controversy had raged with considerable fierceness, but before it assumed that
formidable aspect which finally involved the States in the most violent civil
commotions. After his death the debates continued to spread over Holland. The
side of the Arminians was taken by Episcopins, who became their leader, by
Grotius and Hoogerbeets. It was opposed by Gomarus for religious, and by
Maurice, Prince of Orange, for political, reasons. The far-famed Synod of Dort
was called to heal the divisions, and to ‘reconcile the contending parties of
the church. As might have been expected, this measure completely failed, though
it cost the States ten tons of gold. The Arminians complained that they were
brow-beaten, and condemned instead [[@Page:24]] of being heard; and for
refusing to submit, were imprisoned and banished. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn31" name="_ftnref31" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[31]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From Holland, the dispute
was imported into Britain. Previous to the Synod of Dort, though individuals
might have believed and taught differently, Calvinism was the prevailing theological system of this country. The
complexion of the Thirty-nine Articles is evidently Calvinistic. In this sense
they were understood by their framers, as the British, as well as the
Continental, Reformers, were almost all Predestinarians. This sense was affixed
to them by the succeeding Fathers of the English Church, and by the body of the
Puritans. It was among the ridiculous inconsistencies of James I. to oppose the
Arminians abroad, and to support them at home. He wrote against Arminius;
protested against the appointment of Vorstius to succeed him in the divinity
chair of Leyden; sent deputies to the Synod of Dort to get the party condemned;
and, about the same time, used means for its advancement in England. In 1616,
he sent directions to the university of Oxford, respecting the disputed points.
In 1622, orders were issued that none under the degree of bishop, or dean,
should preach on any of these topics. The Arminian clergy were promoted in the
church, and their writings protected. The reasons of this inconsistency in James’
conduct, are to be found in his love of flattery and power. The English Arminians
were, in general, high church, fawning courtiers, who were ever ready to burn
incense at the altar of the king’ supremacy, and to preach to the multitude his
divine right to dispose of their persons and properties as he thought proper. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn32" name="_ftnref32" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[32]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What the father thus
inconsistently supported, the son endeavoured to raise to celebrity. In the
reign of Charles I. Arminianism, combined with the doctrine of passive
obedience, and respect for Popish ceremonies, became the religion of the court,
and the road to royal favour. The whole high church party, with Laud at its
head, ranked under its banners, and supported its authority by royal and [[@Page:25]]
episcopal patronage, and high commission and
star-chamber decisions. ‘Truth is suppressed,’ said Sir Edward Deering, in a
speech in the house of commons, ‘and popish pamphlets fly abroad, “cum
privilegio;” witness the audacious and libelling pamphlets against true
religion by Pock-lington, Heylin, Cosins, Studley, and many more; I name no
bishops, I only add, &c.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn33" name="_ftnref33" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[33]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The progress of
Arminianism in England, and the causes of that progress, are thus ingeniously
noticed by Owen in the preface to this first production of his pen. ‘Never were
so many prodigious error’ introduced into a church, with so high a hand, and
with so little opposition, since Christians were known in the world. The chief
cause I take to be, that which Eneas Sylvius gave, why more maintained the Pope
to be above the Council, than the Council above the Pope. Because Popes gave
archbishoprics and bishoprics, &c.; but the Councils sued “in forma
pauperis;” and, therefore, could scarce get an advocate to plead their cause.
The fates of our church having of late devolved the government of it on men
tainted with this poison, Arminianism became backed with the powerful arguments
of praise and preferment, and quickly beat poor naked truth into a corner.’<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The great object of the
work is, to give a view of the sentiments of the Arminians, on the decrees of
God; Divine foreknowledge; Providence; the resistibility of Divine grace;
original sin; and, in short, all the leading topics of this important and
extensive controversy. He extracts from the writings, chiefly of the
continental divines, those passages which contain the most explicit declaration
of their sentiments; and states what had occurred to him, in the way of answer.
Each chapter is concluded by a tabular view of those passages of Scripture,
which support the orthodox doctrine, and with quotations from Arminian writers
that seem to oppose it. It is, therefore, according to its title, <i>A display </i>of
Arminianism, not a full discussion of the controversy.. How far modern Arminians
would abide by the views which are here given of their sentiments, I can
scarcely tell; but it cannot be doubted that Owen [[@Page:26]] has given a fair account of the opinions of their
ancestors; and though some of the passages which be quotes, ought not, perhaps,
to be rigidly interpreted, and should he explained in connexion with other
parts of their writings; enough still remains to spew that their doctrines were
far removed from the simplicity and purity of Scripture. The body of modern
Calvinists would not adopt every expression and sentiment of Owen’s Display;
not because they are more arininianized than their fathers, but because they express
themselves in fewer words, and are not so much attached to the peculiar
phraseology of scholastic disputation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The style of the Display
is simpler, and less strongly marked with the peculiarities of the Author, than
some of his subsequent performances. He had more time to bestow in correcting
and polishing it, than he afterwards could command. It discovers occasionally a
considerable degree of sharpness and severity; to which he may have been led,
not so much by the asperity of his own temper, as by the licentious freedoms of
the writers he opposes, and by his strong convictions of the dangerous tendency
of their opinions. It is the duty of all who know the gospel, and especially of
those who preach it, to watch the progress of error, and to endeavour to
obstruct it; but it is of infinite importance that this should be done with
Christian temper, and by the employment only of those weapons which
Christianity sanctions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Display is dedicated
to the Committee of Religion, and is appointed to be printed by the Committee
of the house of commons, for regulating the printing, and publishing of books.
In the dedication he expresses himself very strongly about the evils, which he
apprehended would come upon the state, through the differences in the church, and
implores the parliament’ interference. Are there ‘any disturbances of the
state?’ says he, they are usually attended with schisms and factions in the
church; and the divisions of the church are too often the ‘subversion of the
commonwealth.’ Owen was destined soon to acquire more correct sentiments: — to
see that no political divisions, or disturbances, in the kingdoms of the earth
ought to interrupt the peace and unity of the kingdom of Christ; and that [[@Page:27]]
no other remedy
ought to be employed for the cure of error, than the application of truth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first effect of this
publication, was his presentation to the living of Fordham in Essex, by the Committee
for purging the church of scandalous ministers, by the hands of a special
messenger. The incumbent, who had been sequestered on the petition of the
parish, was Richard Pully, who, according to Walker, was ‘a person of great
learning, religion, and sobriety; but was turned out to make way for one,’ whom
he erroneously calls ‘an Independent of New England.’ <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn34" name="_ftnref34" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[34]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
The Committee, it would appear, were of a different opinion. The presentation
was an honourable mark of their approbation, and did credit both to themselves,
and to our Author. His acceptance afforded much satisfaction to the parish, and
also to the surrounding country. While here, it is stated, that an eminent
blessing attended his labours. Many resorted to hear him from other parishes,
and not a few, through the blessing of God, were led to the knowledge of the
truth. The faithful minister will never pass unrewarded. In all situations, God
will acknowledge that portion of his own truth which is conscientiously brought
forward; and seal with success that which has the sanction of his own
authority.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Soon after he had taken
up his residence in Fordham, he married his first wife, whose name is said to
have been Rooke. By this lady he had eleven children, all of whom died young,
except one daughter, who married Roger Kennington, a Welsh gentleman. The match
proving an unhappy one, she returned to her father’ house, where she died of a
consumption. No particulars now remain of this lady; but she is said to have
been a person of very excellent character. <a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftn35" name="_ftnref35" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: HE; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">[35]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></a>
To her, Mr. Gilbert in his third epitaph on the Doctor, alludes in these lines<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraph">
Prima Ætatis Wills
censors Maria <br />
Rei domestics perite studios, <br />
Rebus Dei dooms se totum addicendi, <br />
Copiam illi fecit Gratissimam.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div>
<!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><br clear="all" />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<!--[endif]-->
<br />
<div id="ftn1">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Gules, three snakes enowed in a triangular
knot, argent.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn2">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[2]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Gules, three cheveronels, argent.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn3">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[3]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Athen. Ox.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn4">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[4]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Memoirs, p. 3.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn5">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[5]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Tree belonging to a branch of the family.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn6">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref6" name="_ftn6" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[6]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Rev. of the Nat. of Schism.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn7">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref7" name="_ftn7" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[7]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Memoirs, p. 3.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn8">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref8" name="_ftn8" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[8]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Neal’s Hist. of the Puritans, vol. i. cap.
iv. p. 136.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn9">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref9" name="_ftn9" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[9]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Neal, i. p. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000; font-family: "Bookman Old Style","serif"; font-size: 6.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Bookman Old Style";">137.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn10">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref10" name="_ftn10" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[10]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Dr. Owen’s Will.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn11">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref11" name="_ftn11" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[11]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Nichol’s Anecdotes, I. p. 64. Birch’s Life of
Tillotson, p. 238. Wood’ Athen. Ox. ii. p. 637.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn12">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref12" name="_ftn12" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[12]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Contrivances of the fanatical conspirators,
by W. Smith.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn13">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref13" name="_ftn13" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[13]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Wood’s Athen. Passim.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn14">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref14" name="_ftn14" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[14]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Athen. Ox. ii. pp. 44, 45.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn15">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref15" name="_ftn15" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[15]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Ibid. p. 177.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn16">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref16" name="_ftn16" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[16]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Ibid. p. 57.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn17">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref17" name="_ftn17" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[17]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Ibid. p. 63.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn18">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref18" name="_ftn18" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[18]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Wood’s Life, p. 92.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn19">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref19" name="_ftn19" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[19]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> ‘Gibbon’ Life of Watts, p. 161.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn20">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref20" name="_ftn20" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[20]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Wood’s Fasti, vol. i. pp. 872-879.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn21">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref21" name="_ftn21" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[21]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Preface to the work on temptation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn22">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref22" name="_ftn22" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[22]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Owen on Communion.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div id="ftn23">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref23" name="_ftn23" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[23]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Athen. Ox. ii. 555.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref24" name="_ftn24" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[24]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Athen. Ox. ii. p. 556.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref25" name="_ftn25" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[25]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Memoirs.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref26" name="_ftn26" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[26]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Hist. of the Reb. i. p. 184.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref27" name="_ftn27" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[27]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Tied. Con. p. 5.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref28" name="_ftn28" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[28]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Clarendon passim, Life of Baxter, Part iii,
p. 249.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref29" name="_ftn29" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[29]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Quoted in the Eclectic Rev. vol. vii. p.11.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref30" name="_ftn30" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[30]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Works, vol. v. p. 11.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref31" name="_ftn31" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[31]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Brandes Hist. of the Reform. in the Low
Countries, vol. ii. Hale’s Letters from the Synod of Dort.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref32" name="_ftn32" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[32]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Brandt, i. pp. 318-321. ‘Lynn’
Quinquarticular Hist. p. 633. Neal. ii. pp. 132, 138.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref33" name="_ftn33" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[33]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> ‘Deering’ Speeches, p. 13.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref34" name="_ftn34" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[34]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Sufferings of the Clergy, p. 320.<span style="letter-spacing: -.2pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/ste/Documents/PDF/Owen,%20John%20-%20Works%20of%20John%20Owen%20vol%2001.docx#_ftnref35" name="_ftn35" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 8pt;">[35]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #c00000;"> Memoirs — Green’s Will.</span><span style="color: #c00000; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Stephenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16786453275962472466noreply@blogger.com0