could not say, from my heart, that I believed

could not say, from my heart, that I believed

how to obtain faith ? I speak not of an appropriating faith (of which I then knew neither the nature or necessity) but how I should gain an assurance, that the scriptures were of a divine inspiration, and a sufficient warrant for the exercise of trust and hope ir? God.

One of the first helps I received (in consequence of a determination to examine the

New Testzment more ,carefully) was from Luke xi. 13. I had been sensible, that to profess faith in Jesus Christ, when, in reality,

I did not believe his history, was no better than a mockery of the heart-searching God ; but, here I found a spirit spoken of, which was to be communicated to those who ask it: upon this I reasoned thus-If this bookis true, the promise in this passage is true likewise :I have need of the very spirit by which the whole was wrote, in order twnderstand it aright. H e has engaged here to give that spirit to those who ask. I must thercfore pray for it, and if it is'of God, he will make good his own word. My purposes were strengthened by John vii.

17. I concluded from thence, that though I could not say, from my heart, that I believed the gospel, yet I would not for the present, take it for granted ;and that by studying it in this light, I should be more and more confirmed in it. If what I am writing could be perused by our modern infidels, they would say (for I too well know their manner) that

" JOWNNEWTON. 81

I was very de~irous to persuade myself into this opii~ion. I confess I. was ; and so~would they W. X the I m d should shew them, as he J. AS pleased to shew me, at that time, the absolute necessity of soxne expedient to interpose between a righteous God, and Sinful soul : upon the gospel scheme, I saw, .it least, n peradventure of hope ; but on every side I \?a; surrounded with black ucfdthomable despair.

The wind was now moderate, but continued fair, and we were still drawing nearer to our port. We began to recover from our consternation, though we were greatly alarmed by our circumsbnces. We found that the water having floated all our moveables In the hold, all the casks of provisions had beerr beaten to pie'ces, by the violent motion of the ship : on the other habd, our live stock, such as pigs, sheep, and poultry9 had been washed over-board in the storm. In effect, all the provisions we saved, except the fish I mentioned, and fiorne food uf the pulse kind, which used to be given to the hogs (and there was but little of thisjeft,) all our other pi-=- visions would have subsisted us but a week at scar:tp allowance. The sails too vere mostly blown away, so that we advanced but slowly, e h M hile the wind was far. We imagined ourselves about a hundred leagues from the land, but were ir. reality much farther.

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Thns we proceeded with an alternate prevalence of hopcs and fears.--My leisure time was chiefly employed in reading and meditati:ig on the scripture, and praying to the Lord for mercy and instruction.

Things continucdthns for four or five days, or, perhaps longer, till we were awakened one morning, by the joyful shouts of the watch upon J ~ c k , proclaiming the sight of land. We were all soon raised at the sound. The dawning was uncommonly beautiful, and the light (jwt strong enough to discover distant objerts) presented us with a gladdening prospect : it seemed a mountainous coast, about twenty miles from us, terminating in a cape or point ; and, a little further, two or three small islands, or Ilummocks, as just rising out of the water ; the appearance and position seemed exactly answerable to our hopes, resembling the no:-thwest extremity of Ireland,

which we were steering for. We sincerely congratulated each other, making no doubt, but that if the mind continued, we qhould he in safety anSplent the next day. The small remainder of our brandy (which was rcducecl to little more than a pint) was, by the captain's orders, distributed amongst ns ; he xdded at the same time, We shall soon h ~ v e brandy enough." We likewise cat up thr residui: of our bread for joy of this welcome sight, and were in the co~ldition 0'-

JOI-lU NEWTON. PS

men suddenly reprieved from death. While *we were thus alert, the mate with a graver tone than the rest, sunk our spirits, by saying, that "he wished that it might prove land at last." If one of the common sailols had at first said so, I know nor but the rest would have beat him for raising such an unreasonabk doubt. It brought on, however, warm debates and disputes, whether it was land or no ; but the case was soon unanswerably decided, for the day wa; advancing fast, and, in a little time one of our fancied islands began to grow red, from the approach of the sun, which arose just under it. In a word we had been prodigal of our bread and brandy too hastily ; our land was literally in nubibu~,nothing bui clouds, and, in half an hour more, the whole appearance was dissipated-Seamen have often knotw deceptions of this sort, but'in our extremity we were very loath to be undeceived. However, we comforted ourselves, that though we could not see the land, yet we should soon, the wind hitherto continuing f& ; but alas, we were deprived of this hope likewise !-That very day our fair wind subsided into a calm, and the next morning thegales sprung up from the south-east, directly against us, and continued so for more than a fortnight afterwards. The ship was so wrecked, that we were obliged,to keep the wind always on the broken s~de,ui~lcssthe

81 LIFE OF

weather was quite moderate : thus were wc driven, by the xind fixing in that quarter, still further front our port, to tbe north\hrard of all Ireland, as car as the Lemis or western islailds of Scotland, but a long way to the westward. In a word, our station was such as deprived us of any hope of being relieved by other vessels : it may indeed be questioned, whether our ship was not the very first that had been in that part of the ocean, at that season of the year-

Provisions now began to grow very short ; he half of a salted cod was a day's subsistence f:~r twelve people ; we hdd plenty of fresh water, but not a drop of strong liquor ;no bread, hardly any clothes, and very cold weathrr. We h.ad incessant labor with the pumps, $0 keep ,he ship above water. Much labor and little food, wasted us fast, and one man died under :he hardship. Yet our suffcrings were light, in comparison of our just fears ; we could imt afford this bare all6wance much longcr, hit had a t~rrible prospect of being either s:a:-ved to death, or reduced to feed upon on-. ano:her. Our expectations grew darker every day, a d I had a further trouble peculiar ta myself. The captain, \those temper was quite soured by distress, -as hourly reproaching me (as I formerly observed) as the sole cause of the calamity, and was confident, that if I was

throwt~ overboard (and not otherwise) they should be p-eserved frcm death. H e did not intend to make the experiment, but the

continual repetition of this in my ears, gave me much uneasiness, especially as my con-

science seconded his words, I though it very probable, that all thatbad befallen us was on my account. I was, at last found out by the powerful hand of God, and condemned in my own breast. However, proceeding in the methcd I have described, I began to con-

ceive hopes greater than all rry fears ; especidi7 when, at the time we were ready to give tip all for lost, and despair was taken place in every ccuntenarce, I saw the wind come about to the wry point U e wished it, so as best to suit that broken part of the ship which must be kept out of the water, and to blow so gentle as our few remaining sails could bear ; and thus it continued without any obscrx able a1tcica:ion or increase, thouph at an unsettled time of the year, till we once more were called up to see the land, and were xmvinccd that it was land indeed. We saw the islmd Tory, and the nert day anchcred in Lcv:,h S ~ i l l y ,in Ireland : this m.1~the 8th of April, just four ueeks aftc; t1,e damage i5e scsta.xd f ~ o m the sea. TVlit n we came into this port, our vcljr last victuals were boilil~g in the pot, and beiore we l\.~d

ben ttcrc tv o licur S , ?be wind, a bich $ $ c m

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ed to have been providentially restrained till we were in a place of fafety, began to blow with great violence, so that if we h?d continued at sea that night in our shattered enfeebled condition, we must, in all human ap-

pearance, have gone to the bottom. About this time I began to knqw that there is a Cod that hears and answers prayer. How many times has he appedrrd for me since this great deliverance.-Yet, alas, how distrustful and mgratefi-il is my hext znto this 110~;.

I am,

Dear Sir,

Your obliged Janzary 19, 1763, humSle srrvm t.

HAVE brought my history down, to the time of my :trrival in Idand, 17$8; b u ~ , before I proceed, I wou1.l look back a littie, to give you some fi~rther account of the state

of my m i d , and how f,lr I was heiyed against inward dificultie~, which beset me at the time I had many ou; rrlrd hardships to struggie with. The str'iits of hunger, cold, weariness, 2nd the fears of sic!r:y mcl starving, I ?t.n?cdin common with otwrs ; but,

besides these I felt a heart-bitterness, which was properly my own ; no one on board but myself being impressed with any sense of the hind of God, in our danger and deliverance, at least nrt awakened to any concern for their souls. No teniporal diipensations can reach the heart, unless the Lord himself applies them. My companions in danger were either quite unaffected, or soon forgot it all ; but i t was not so with me ; not that I was any

wiser or better than they, but because the Lord was pleased to vouchsafe me peculiar mercy, otheiwise I was the most unlikely person in the ship to receive an impression, having been aftm before quite stupid and hardened in the very face of great dangers, and always, till this time, had hardened my neck still more and more after every reproof. -.I can see no reason, why the Lord singled me out for mcrcy but this, U that so it seemed good to him ;" unless it was to shew, by one astonisiling instance, that with him, nothing is impossible."

There were no persons on board, to whom I could open myself; with freedom concerning the state of my soul, none from whom I could ask adric-. As to books, I had a New Tcstament, Stanhope, already mentioned, and a volume gf Bishop Beweridge's sermons, one

of which, upon our Lord's passion affected me much. In perusing the NEWTestament,

Iwas struck with several passagcs, pal tlculitrly thzt of the fig-tree, Lake xiii. The case OC

St. Paul, 1 Tim. 1. but particulally tI:e Prcdigal, Luke xv. a case, I thought, th,r had ncver been so nearly exemplified, as by myself; and theii thggoodnessof ~h: fathe* in receiving, nay, in runmng to meet snch a 5011; and this intended only to illnstrate the Lor~l's goodness to returrling sinners ; illis g&il~;l upon me-

I co~xinued much i l l prayer ; I saw thn: the Lord h.td interposed sojZlr to save me, and 3: bopcd lie wonld do more. The ontward circumstances helped in this piace, to rnako me still more serioui and earnest in crying to him, who alone cod: rclieve me ; aid sometimes I thought I could be coli:e:>t to die even for , ant of food, so I might but die a. believer. Tnus far I w a s answered, that before we arrived in Irclaili I hnd a satisfxtory evidence in my own mind the truth of the gospel, as considered in itseif, and its exact suitnbieness to answer all my needs. I saw that, by the way t h y were pointed out. God might dec1:ire not in his nmcy only, but his justice dlso, in the prdoi; of &l, on the :Kcount of the obediecce and sliifering? of Jems Christ. My judgment, at tl~at time, embraced the sllblime doctrine of God manifest in the flesh, reconciling the world to hin:sdf." h d no idea of those qystemc,, uhich allow the Saviour XI higher I;nnc,r t h th ,t OF ;v

u p r servanf, or, at the most, a dmigod. I stood in necd of an almighty Saviour, and sucha one I found described in the New Tcstament. Thus fiir the Lord had wrought a marvellous thing ; I was no longer an infidel ; I hear:ily renounced my former profaneness ; I had taken up some right notians, was ser iously disposed, and sincerely touched with a sense of the tuldeserved mercy I had received, in being brought safe threugh so many dangers. I was sorry for my past mis- . pent life, and proposed an immediate reformation ; I was quite free from the habit of swearing which seemed to have been deeply rooted4n me, as a second nature. Thus, to a11 appearance, I was a new man.

But though I cannot doubt that this change,

50 far as ic prevailed, was wrought by the spirit and power af God, yet still I was greatIy deficient in many respects. I was in sbme degree affected with a sense of my more enormous sins, but was little aware of the inpate evils of my heart. I had no apprehension of the spirituality and extent of the law of God : the hidden life of a christian, as i: consists in communion with God by Jesm Christ, and a continual dependence on Him, for hourly supplies of wisdom, strength, and

comfort, was a mystery of which as yet I had no knowledge. I acknowledged the Lord's-

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9i3 LIFE OF

mercy in pardoning wlmt X I S but ciepended chiefly upon m y own resolution to do better [or ~ 5 etime to come. I 11,d no chri~tian f~icndor f~ithi'dmmi\ter to <tJuiieme, that my strength \\,is ilo more than my ligilteousness ; and though I won brgan to cnquire fol

serious books, yc:, not :l ,VIII<; \piritud discernment I f:-eqnently maJ A a vi,aig choice, and I was ncr Lrocgiit in i:i(: ay of ~ ~ 1 : : ~ ~ e - >T 4 licnl preaching or co;ivL?>,,ti011 (except tile few times when I heard but unde~srood not) for six years after this period. 'Those things the Lord was pleased to discover to me grldually. I le'trnt them here a little, >md time alittlc, by my own p~inful experience .it n distance from the common m-ans and ordinances, aild in the midst of the sime c a m e 05 evil company, and b,d exxn~plc~, 2., 1 !:ad been conver~,mt1r ith for aolnc. time.. From this period I could no more rnakc 2 mock 121 sin, or jest with holy things ; I no mote , questioned the truth of scripture, oi 1mt A sense of the rebnLes of consicence. 'rhclcfore I con~ider this .<i the 1,zgi:liling of m) return to Go.$ or :,,ther of his retnrn to me : but I cannot coniidrr rilysclt' to re becn ::

believer (in t1.c filli ce,! .c cf the M m d) 5': a consider;tble tune afierv,r Ci4.

I llave told yc3uthat in the time of our dis tress, we had hcsh w ~ c :in abundance : th;s was $1 con:i+x..l!e 1c1it.f to U$, cs;wLdly - ~ s

salt fish, without bread ; we drank plenti uUy, and were not afraid of I& anting water ; yet our stock of &is likewise was much nearer to an end than we expected ; fbr we supposed that we had

slur spare diet was most1 l

six large bntts of water on board, and it was well that we were safe arrived in lrelatld beFore &c discovered that five of them were empty, having been removed rrut of their places, and stove by the v i ~ k t agitation, when the ship was full of water, If we had found this out, while we were at sea, it would have greatly heightened our distress as we

must have drank more sparingly.

While the ship was refitling at Lough Swilly, I repaired to Londonderry. 5 lodged at an exceeding good house, where I was treated with much kindness, and soon recruited , my heal~h aqd strmgth. I was nom a serious profc!ssor went twice a day to the prayers at church, and determined to receive the sacrament the nest opportunity. A few days before I signified my intention to the minister, as the rubric directs : but I found this practice was grown obsolete. A t length the day Game :I arose very early-was very particu131-and earnest in my private devotion, and, ~\iththe greatest solemnity engaged myself tc be the Lord's forever, and only his. Thir was not a formal, but a sincere surrender, un $er a .is-aml sense of mercies recently receiv

99 LIFE OF

ecl ;and yet, for wmt of a better knowledge of myself. w c i the subtility of Satan's temptatiohs I was seduced to forget the vows of God d ~ a twcre upon me. Upon the whole, though my views of the gospel-salvntion wcre very indistinct, I experienced a peace and satisfaction in the ordinnilce that day, to which I had bcen hitherto a perfect slrmgcr.

T h e next da I was abroad with the Mnyor of the city, an d' some other gcntlcmcn, cl-ioa~- ing ; I climbed up a steep l ~ n k ,m d pulling m y fowling-piece after me, as 1lie!d it in a perpendicular direction, it went off so near my face as to burn away the corner d my hat-Thus xvhen e think ourselves in the greatest safety, we are 1 1 0 less exposed to danger, than when a11 the elements seem conspiring to destroy us. Tile Divine Providence, which is suflicient io dc-1;r:~r us in our utmost extremity, is equally necescary to our preservation in the most peacdul situ~tion.

D u r h g our stay in Ireian4 1 wrote lionx. 'E'he vessel I was in had not been heard o i 'or eighteen months, and x%-asgivcn tip for O S " L O ~ ~ befo~e. My father Lid no more ~pectatioil of hearing that I nas alive, bnt e received my letter few day 4 h~f'orehe lft 1-ondon He was just going Governor For Yolk in iIudson's Bay, f,mm vhencc e never retnrned. H e sdilecl before I lanbJ in Elyland, r-ir fie had purposc.l to t,~',:'

JOHN NE'1V"fOTL'. 93

rnc with him ; but, God designing odienvise, one hindrance or other delayed us in Ireland, till it was too late. I received two OT thfee affecti: nate letters from him, but I never had the pleasure of seeing him more, I had hopes, that in three years more I should have had an opportunity of asking his forgiveness for the uneasiness my disobedience had given him ; but the ship that was to have b r o u ~ h thim home, came without him, Ac. cordlag to the best accounts we received, he was seized with the cramp, when bathing, and drowned a little before her arrival in the

Day.--Excuse this digression. My father, willing. to contribute all in his power to my satisfact~on, paid a visit, before his departure to my friends in Kent, and gave his consent to the union which had been so long talked cf. Thus, when I returned to ---, I found I had only the consent of one person to obtain : with her I as yet stood at as great an uncertainty as on the first day 1 saw her. I arrived at .-- the latter end of Nday 1748, the same day th2t my father sailed from the Nore, but found the Lord had provided me another father in the gentleman t d m z ship had brought me home. H e received me with grcat tenderness, and th? strongest expressions of friendship and assistance ; yet not more than he has since made

good :for to him, as the instrument of God's goodness, I owe my all. Yet it would not have been in the power, even of this friend, to have served me effectually, if the Lord had not met with me on my way home, as I have related. Till then I was like the man possessed witK the &on. No afgnments, no persuasion, no vien S .of interest, no remembrance of the past, or regard to the future, could have constrained me m ithin the bounds of common prudence. But now I was in some mpasure restored to my se&.

My friend immediately offered me the command of a ship ; but, upop mature consideration, I declined it for the present. I had been hitherto always unsettled and careless, and therefore thought I had better make anothe~ voyage first, and learn to obey,

and acquire a further ins;ght and experience in business beforc I vcntaredto undertake such a charge. The mate of t!le vessel l came home in, was preferred to the command of a new ship, and I engaged to go in the station nf rnate with him. I made a short visit to London, &c which did not fdiy answer my views. I had but one opportunity of seeing Xrs. ******, of which I availed myself very little, for I was d w q s exceeding aukward in pleading my cwn catqse, viva wocr.--Ent after my rctnrn to L-, 1 put the qnestiw in wch ,I Tl)dnilW, hv let-

JoHP? NEWTOX, sJ

ter, that she could not avoid (unless I had greatly mistaken her) coming to some sort ; of an explanation. Her answer (though penned with abundance oE caution) satisfied me, as I coIJected from it, that she was free from any other engagement, and not unu iI- , ling to wait the event of the voyage I had undertaken. I should be ashamed to trouble you with these little details, if you had hot ;owseIf desired me.

I ad

Dear Sir,

Yours, Etc. ?muay 20, 1763.

LETTER X.

onnections with sea aKa;rs have ofl-

led me to think, that the varieties

in christian experience may be lustrated from the circumstances of a wqzge. Imagine to yourself a nilmber of vw;i.Ls, at different tlmes, and at different places, bound to the same port ;there are some things in which all these would agreethe campass steercd by, the port in view, the g d d e s of navigation, both as to the

management of the vessel, 3i1d dz~ermiiiing their astronomical observation, would be t ? ~ . same in all. In other respects they would differ : perhaps no two of them would mect with the same distributions of winds and weather. Some we sce set out with a prosperons gale, and, whcn the)- almost think their passage secured, they a,c checkcl by adverse blasts; and, arter enduring macl: hardship and danger, ;mJ freqwnt csxpcctations of shipwreck, thcy just clc.lpc, :u:d reach the desired haven. Others meet t!ir greatest difficulties at first ;they put forth in a storm, and are often beaten back ;at length their voyage proves favorable, aid they enter the port with a plerophoria, a rich and abundant entrance. Some are hard beset with cruizers and enemies, and oh'iigcd to light their way through. Others meet with little remarkable in their pxsagc. Is it nQt thus in the spiritual life ? All tnle belicyers walk by the same rule, a d mind thessnrnp things ; the word of God is their compass, Jesus is both their polar-star, and their wn of' righteousness ; :heir heal t s and fices arc al! set Sion-ward. Thu~far they are as one bcdy, animated by one spirit ; yet their expe rience, fornied upan these common principles, is far from nniiorm. The Lord in his first call, and his following dispensations has a regard to the citt~ation.tcmper, talents of c:tcll,

and to the particular services or 8rials he has appointed them for. Though allare exercised at times, yet some pass through ttie voyage of life much more smoothly than others. But be, U who walks upon the wing of the wind,

L' and measures the waters in the hollow of his hand," will not suffer any, of whom he has once taken charge, to perish in the storms though, far a season, perhaps, many of them are ready to give U all hopes.

We must not, tEerefore make the experience of others, in all respects, a r p l ~to our-

selves, nor our own a rule to others; yet these are common mistakes, and productive of many 'more. As to myseif, every part of my case has been extraordinary-I have hardly met a single instance resemblin it. Few very few? have been recovered rom such a dreadf ful state; and the few, thar have been thus favored, have generally ~assed through the

most severe convictions, and, after the Lord has given them peace, their future lives have been yually more zealous, bright, and exemplary 'than common. Now, as, on the one hand my convictions were very moderate,

and far below what might have beeniexpected, frolh the dreadful review I had to make; so on the other, my first beginnings, in a religious course, were as faint as ran be well imagined. I never he17 that season alluded to, Jer, ii. 2 Rev. ii. 4. usually called the

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time of the first love. Wko would not expect to !ienr, that after such a wonderful unhoped-for deliverance, as I had received, and arter my eyes were, in some measure, enlightened to see things aright, I should immediately cleave to t1.e Lord and his ways,, with full purpose of heart ; and consult 110 more with flesh and blood ? But alas ! it was f x otherwise with me ; I had learned to pray,

I set some value upon the word of Gcd, and was no longer a libertine, but my soul still cleaved to the dust. Soon after my departure from I, --, I began to intermit, and grow slack in waiting upon the Lord ; grew vain and trifling in my conversation ; and, though my heart smote me often, yet my armor was gone, and I declined fast ; and by the time we arrived at Guinea, I seemed to have forg>t a11 the Lord's mercies, and my own engagements, 2nd was (profaneness excepted) almost as bad as before. The enemy prepared a train of temptations, and I became his easy prey, and, for about a month, he lulled me asleep in a course of evil, of which, a few months before, I could not have supposed myself any longer capable. Hour much propriety is there in the Apostle's advice, Take heed lest any of you be hardcned through the deceitfulness of sin." 0 who can be sufficiently upon their guard ! Sin f i ~ s t deceir-ec, nnd then it bardei~si

JOHN NEWTON. 99

was now fast bound in chains; I had little desire, and no power at all to recover myself. 1could riot but at times reflect how it was with me ; but, if I attempted to struggle with it, it was h vain. I was just like 8amson, when he said, I will go forth and shake myself as at other times," but the Lord was departed, and he found himself helpless in the hands of his enemies. By the remembrance of this interval, the Lord has often instructed me since, what a poor creature I am in myself, incapable of standing a single hour, without continual fresh supplies of strength and grace from the fountain-head.

A t length the Lord, whose mercies are infinite, interposed in my behalf. My business, in this voyage, while upqn the coast, was to sail from place to place in the longboat to ~urchase slaves. The ship was at Sierra Leon, and I then at the Plantanes, the scene of my former captivity, where every thing I saw might seem to remind me of my ingratitude. I was in easy circumstances, courted by those who formerly despised me : the lime-trees I had planted were growing tall, and promised fiwit the folloln-ing year, against which timc I had expectations of returning with a ship of my own. Bu none of: 'S these things affected me, till, as I ha e said, , tbe Lord again interposed to save me. He

visited me with a violent fever, which broke the fatal chain, and once more brouglit me to myself." But 0 what a pospect ! I thought myself now sumn~ai-,ed away : My past dangers and del~verances, my eainest pray~rs in the time of troablc, my solemn vows I~efore

the Lord at his table, and my ungrateful returns for al! his goodness were ail prrs?Pt to \ m y mind at once. Then I i1egr.n :D wish that the Lord had s&el;cd me to %,inkinto the ocean, when I first besought his mercy. For a little while, I concluded the door of hope to be quite shut; but this continued not long. Weak and almost delirious I rose from my bed, and crept to a retired part of the island ;and here I found a ienewed liberty to pray. I durst make no more resolves, but cast myself before the Lord, to do with me as he should please. I do not remember, that any particular text, or remarkable discowry, was presented to my mind ;but in genetal I was enabled to hope and believe in a

crucified Saviour. The burden was removed from my conscience, and not only my peace, but my health was restored ; I cannot say instantaneously, but I recovered from that hour, and so fast, that when I returned to the ship, two days afterwards, I was perfectly well before I got on board. And from that time, I trust, I have been delivered from the power and dominion of sin ;though, as

JOHN NEWTOK. 101

te the effects and conflicts of sin dwelling in me, I still "groan, being burthened?' I now began again to wait upon the Lord, and though I have often grieved his spirit, and foolishly wandered from him since, (when ' alas, shall I be more wise) yet his powerful grace has hitherto preserved me from such black declensions, as this I have last record. ed ; and I humbly trust in his mercy and promises, that he will be my guide and guard to the end.

My leisure hours, in this voyage, were chiefly employed in learning the Latin language, which I had nGW entirely forgot. ' This desire took place from an imitat~on,I had seen, of one of Horace's Odes in a Magazine. 1began the attempt under the greatest disadvantages possibk ; for I pitcfied upon a poet, perhaps the most difficult of the poets, even Horace himself, f o r my first book. I had picked up an old English translation of him, which, T. ith Castalio's Latin Bible ; were all my helps I forgot a Dictionary, but 1 would not therefore give up my purpose. I had the edition in usurn DP@& ni, and by comparing the Odes with interpretations, and tracing the words, I coulJ Understand from one place to another by the Index, with the assistance I could get from the Latin Bible ;in this way, by dint of hard industry, often waking when I might have

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slept, I made some progress before I returned, ; ~ n dnot only understood the sense and meaning of many Odes, and some of the Epistles, but began to relish the beauties of the composition, a d acquired the spice of what Mr. Law calls ~lnssical enthusiasm. And, indeed, by this means I had Horace more ad ungum than some who are masters of the

Latin tougue ; for my helps were so few, that I genernlly had the passage fixed in my memory, before I could fully understand its meaning.

My business in the'long-boat, d ~ r i n g eight months we were upon the coast, exposed me to innumerable dangers and perils, frbm burn-. ing suns and chilling dews, winds, rains, and ~hunder-storms, in the open boat ; and on shore, from long journeys'through the m-oods, and the temper of the natives, who are, in many places, cruel, treacherous, and watching opportunities for mischief. Several boats in the same time, were cut off, several wfiite men poisoned, and, in my own boat

I 'buried six or seven people with fevers.-- Wh& going on shore, or returning from it, in their little canoes, I have been more than once or twice overset, by the violence of the surf, or beach of the sea, and brought to land half dead, for I could not swim. A0 , account of such escapes, as I still remember,

weuld swell to several sheets, and many more

JOHN NEWTON. %OS *

E have perhaps forgot; I shall only select one instance, as a specimen of the wonderful Providence, which watched over me for good, and which, I doubt not, you will think worthy of notice.

When our trade was finished, and we were neai. sailing to the West-Indies, the only remainiog service I had to perform in the boat, was to assist in brin ing the wood and water from the shore. V fe were then at Rio Sestors. I ased to go into the river in the afternoon, with the sea-breeze, procure my loading in the evening, and return on board in the morniiig with the land wind. Severai of these little voyages I had made, b~lt the boat was grown old, and almost unfit for use.

This service, likewise, was almost completed. One day, having dined on board, I was

reparing to return to the river qs formerly : f hxd taken leave of the captain, received his orders, was already ih the boat, and just

oing to put off, as we term it, that is, to i t go our ropes, and sail from the ship. In that instant, the captain, came up from the

cabin, arid called me on board again.-1 went, expecting'further orders ; but, he said,

he had took it in his head (as he phraccd it that I should remain that day in the ship) and accordingly ordered anorher xan to PO

in my room, Q was surprised at this, as the boat had never been sent without nie before,

-14asked him the reason ;lie could give m e ! 1 >sc,n,but,ds above, that so he would have .I. Xccoruingiy the boat went witl~out me, , , ;e;urntd no more. She sunk t!*at night .C* iver, and the person who had supplied

A.i;e,was droa ned. I n as mucli struck

i: recewed news of *he event the next

- I .?---The captain him& though quite

S \ ri i o leligi~11,SO far as to deny a parI I '.!ence, could not help being af-

.CC ). Y iieclnled that he had no other

- c l t o:;i5izrmanding me at that time,

tt IK t a i m su'cidenly into his head to

S c e . I onder I omitted this in

T V ,! ,ietters, as I hare always thought it

8 t i , r u~ :he most extrdordinary circumstances n: *.A-,. life.

I am,

D e x Sir,

Your obliged servant, Tanuary 21, 176:.

LETTER XI.

D~arSir,

FEW days after I was thus wonderfully

saved f r o n ~ an unforeseen danger, we

- . .\1 Tvr A:,ti:ua, and f ~ o mthence proceed- . i o Charieston, in South Carolina. In

+ .is place there are many sencus people, but

JOHN NEWTON. IOJ

I knew n o t how to find ;hem out : iy.k&l, I was not aware of the difference, but ~ u p p ~ s - ed all who attended public ~ ~ o r s h p we* good christains. I was as much io.the dark about preaching, not doubting but v4latever \ .came from the pulpit must be very good. 1 had two a-three opportuniGCs of hearing a dissentFng ministei, named Smith, who, b.f what I have known since, I believe to haae been an excellent and pouierful preacher o i the gospel ;and there was something in his manner that struck me, but I did not rightly understand him. The best words that men can speak are ineffectaal, till explained znd applied by the spirit of God, who aloxe can open the heart. It pleased the Lord, for some time, that I should learn no more than what he enabled me to collect from my own experience and reflection. My condnct was now very inconsistent-Almost every dxy, when business would pcrmit, I used to retiie into the woods and fields ([or these when at hand have alivays been my favo~ite orato~ies) and, I, trust, I began to taste the sweet, ci-

communion 14th God in the exercises or prayer and praise, and yet 1 frequently spent the evening in vain and worthless compzng ; iridced, my relish for worldly diversions was w : h weakefied, and I was rather a spectator thm a sharer in their pleisures, bct I did not as yet sce the necessity of an absolute &I--

loti LIFE OF

pearancr. Yet as my compliance with custdm anJ company, was chiefly owing to want

flight, rather thm to an obstinate attach- %erit, and the Lord wan pleased to preserve

me, from what I knew was sinful, I had for the most part peace of conscience, and my strongest desires were towards tne things of God. As yet I knew not the force of that precept, "abstain from all appearance of evil," but very often ventured upon the brink of tcrnptaticn ; but the Lcro was gracious to my weakness, and woald r ot suffer the enemy to p,w ~ i lagainst me. I did not break with the \,aid at once (3s might in my case have been expected) but I was gradually led to see the inconvenience and folly of one thing after another, and, when I saw it the Lord strengthened me to give it up. But it was some years, before I was set quite at liberty from occasional compliances in many things, in which, at this time, I durst by no means, allow myself.

We finished our voyage, and arrived in T,-. When the ship's aK~ii-S were sett!d, I went to London, dnd from thence

(as you may suppcse) I soon repaired to Kent. More than seven years were now elapsed, since my first visit.-No views of the kind could seem more chimerical, or could subsist nnder greatcr discouragements thm mine had done ;yet, through the over-ruling

goodness df ,God, while I seemed &bandon& t o myself, and blindly following my own headstrong passions, I was guided by a hand that I knew not, to the accomplishment of my wishes. Every obstacle was now remov- -ed. I had renounced my former follies, m y

interest, was ekablished, and friends on all sides consenting; the point was now entirely between ourselces, and after &at had past, was easily concluded. Accordingly our hands were joined on the first of February, 1760. The satisfaction that I h n e found in this union, you will suppose has been greatly heightened by reflecticn on the former disagreeable contrzsts, I had passed through, and the views I have hnd of the singular mercy and Providence of the Lord in bringing it to pass. If you please te look back to the beginning of my sixth letter, (page 58) I doubt not but you will allow that few persons have known more, either of the misery or hapginess, of which humsn life (as considered in itself) is capable. l b w easily at a time c3f life when I %as so little capable of judging,

(but a few months more than 17) might my affections have been fixed where they could have met with no return, or where succcss would have been the heaviest disappointment. The long delay T met with was likewise a mercy ; for had I succeeded a year or two

sooner, before the Lord was pleased to change my heart we must have been mutually unhappy, even as to the present lifz. cc Surely " mercy and goodness have followed me all

my days."

But, alas! I soon began to feel that my heart was still hard and ungrateful to the God of my life. This. crowning mercy, udlich raised me to all I could ask or ~vishfor in a temporal view, and which O L I ~ ~ I ~ to have been an animating motive to obedience and praise had a contrary effect.-I rested in the gift and forgot the giver. My poor narrow heart was satisfiedA cold and careless h m e as to spiritual things, took place and gained ground daily. Happy.for me the season was advancing, and in June I received orders to repair to L-.This roused me from'my dream ; I need nct tell .you, that I found tile pains of absencc and separation fully proportioned to ray preceding pleasure. It &as hard, very hard, to part, especially as conscience inte~fered, and suggested to me how little I deserved, that we should be spared to meet again-But the Lord supported me-I was a poor faint idolatrous creature, but I had now sone acquaintance with the way of access to a throne of grace, by the blood of Jesus, and peace was soon restored to my conscience. Yet, through all the fol- !owing voyage, my irregular and excessive af-

I JOHN NEWTON.

fechions were as thonls in my eyes, ,and oAen made my other blessings tapless and iasipid. But He who doth all things well, over-ruled this likewise for good. I t became an occasion for quickening me in praym, both for her and myself; it incaeased my indifference for company and amusement f it habituated me to a kind of voluntary self-denial, which

1 was afterwards taught to improve to a bet.. - ter purpose.

While I remained in En land, we corresponded every post ;and alfthe while I used the sea afterwards, I constantly kept up the F

ractice pf writing two or three times a week d weather and business permitted) thcugh no conveyance homeward offered for six or eight months together. My packets were usually heavy, and as not one d them at any time miscarried, I have to the amount of near two hundred sheets of paper now lying in my bureau of that corres ondence. I mention this little relief contrive c! to,soften the intervals of absence, because it had a good effect - beyond my first intention. It habituated me to think and write upon a great variety of subjects, and I acquired, insensibly, a greater readiness of expressing myself, &an I should have otherwise attained. As I gained more ground in religious knowledge, my lstters be- , came more serious, and, at times, I still find

an advantage in locking them over, especial-

ly as they remind me of many providential incidents, and the state of my mind at different periods in these voyages, which would otherwise have escaped my memory.

I sailed from Lin August 1750, commander of a good ship. I have no very ' extraordinary events to account, from this period, and shall therefore contract my memoirs, lest I become tedious ;yet I am willing to give you a brief sketch of my history down to 1755, the year of my settlement in my present situation. I had now the command and csre of thirty persons ; I endeavored to treat them with humanity, and to set them a wood example ; I likewise estaP blished pnbl~c worship, according to the li-

tur y, twice every Lord's day, officiating myself farther than this 1 did not proceed, xhik 1 continued in that employment.

Having now much leisnre, I prosecuted the study of Latin with good success. I remembered + dictionary this voyoge, and yrocui-ed two or three other books ; but still it was my hap to choose the hardest,-I added Juvenal to Horace, and for prose authors I pitched upon Livy, Czsar and Sallust. You v:ill easily conceive, Sir, that I had hard work to begin (where I should have left off) ihith Horace and Livy. I was not aware of :he difference of style ; I had heard Livy highly commended, and was resolved to un-

JOHN NEWTON.

derstand him. I beg& with the first page : and laid down a rde, which I seldom departed from, not to proceed to a setond period till I undc%-stoodthe first, and so on. I was often zt a stand, but seldom discouraged ; here and there I found a few lines quite obstinate, and was forced to break in upon my rule, and give them up, especially as my edition had only the text, without any notes to assist me. But there were not wany such ; for, bbtrfore the closh of that voyage, I could (with a f& exceptions) read Livy from end to end, almost zs ready as any English author. And I found, in surmounting this difficulty, I had slirmounted all in one. Other prose authors, when they came in my waycost me little trouble. In short, in the space of two tnthee voyagess ]t became tolerably acquainted with the best classics ;( Iput all I have to

sayupon this subjkct together) I read Terence, Virgil, and several pieces of Cicero, and the modern clas'sics, Buchanan, Erasmus, and Casmir ;8 length I conceived a design of bec~mingp &eronian mqself, and thmrgbt it would

be a fine thing indeed to write pure and elegant Latin.-l made some egsays towards it, but by this time, the Lard was pleased to draw me nearer to himself, and to give me n fuller viexof the pearl of great price," the inestimable treasure bid in the field of the holy scripture ;and for the sake of this I

?I% LIFE OF

\ was made willing to part with all my new acquired riches. I began to think that life was too short, especially my life, to admit of leisure for such elaborate trifling. Neither poet or historian could tell me a word of Jesus, and T &e:efore applied myself ta those who couid. The classics were at first restrained to one morning in the week, and at lengtbr quite laid aside. I have not looked into L i q these five years, and, I suppose, I could not now well understand him. Some passages in Horace and Virgil I still admire, but they setdom come in my+way. I prefer Buchanan'; psalms to a whole shelf of Elzevirs-But &us much Z have gained, and more than this I am not solictious about, so much of the Latin as enables me to read any useful or curious book, that is published in that language. About the same time, and for the same reasoa that I quarrelled with Livy, I laid aside the .mathematics.-I found they not only cost me much time, but engrossed my thoughts too far ; my head was literally full of schemes I was weary of cold contemplative truths, which can neither warm nor amend the heart, but rather tend to aggrandize seCf. I found no traces of this wisdom in the life of Jesus, or the writings of Pad. I do not regret that I have had some opportunities of knowing the first principles of these things, but I see much cause to praise the Lord that he inclined ma

JOHN NEWTON 115

to stop in time, and whilst I das spending

my labors for that which is not bread," was pleased to set bgore me wine and milk without money and without price." My first voyage was fourteen months. through various scenes of danger and difficulty, but nothilrg very remarkable ; and, as I intend to be moreparticular with regard to the secon&, I shall only say that I was pres&ved ' from every harm ; and having seen many fall on my sight hand and on my leEt,5 Z was brought home in peace, and restored to where my thoughts had been often directed, No. vcmber 2, 1751. U

I am,

Sir,

Your's. January 22, 1763.

-.c-

LZTTE;RXII.

Dear Sir, I

ALMOST wish I could recall my last

sheet, and retract my promise. I fear I have engaged too far, and shall prove a mere cgoti~t. What have I more that can deserve

n 2

114 LWE @F

your notice ? However, it is some satisiaition, that I am now writing to yourself only ; and, I believe, you G11 have candor @ excuse, what nothing but a sense of your kindness could extort from me.

Soon after the period where my last closes, that is, in the interval between my first and second voyage after my marriage, I bcgan to

keep a sort of diary, a practice which I have since found of great use. I had in this interval repeated proofs of the ingratitude and evil of my heart. A life of ease, in the midst of my friends, and the full satisfaction of my wishes, ?as not fuorable to the progress of grace, and afforded cause of daily humiliation. Yet, upon the whole, I gained ground. 1 became acquainted with books, which gave me a furthcr view of christian doctrine and experience, particularly, Scougal's Life of God in the Sml cf man, Iiarvey's Meditationr, and The Life of Colonel Gardener. As to preaching I heard none, but of the common sort, and had hardly an idea of any better ; neitker had I the advantage of christian acquaintance. I was likewise greatly hindered b y a cowardly reserved spirit ; I was afraid ~f b k g thought precise, and, though I

d d not live without prayer, I durst not,

-- propose i t even to my W&, till she herself hrst put me_uponif ;so far was I from those sxpressions of zed apd h e , which seem so

J@mT mWTION. nit&h to tie c* of qne +e &shad much forgiven. In a fe, months the returning season called nie aFroad a ah, d sailed from L -in a new gip, July ,752.

A seafaring life is necessarily ewluded from the benefit of public ordinances and christian communion ; but, as I have-observed, my low upofi these heads was at thTs time but small. In other respects I know not a* calling $qit seems more favorable, or aEords gr-t. advantages to an awaken@ mind, Eor promoting the life of God in the

souk, especially to a person who has the command of a ship, and thereby has it in his power to restrain gross irregularities in others, and * to dispose of his own time ; and still more SO jn African,xoyages, as these ships carry ;t double proportion of mm and sflicers to most ogbes, which p d e rhy department very easy; adid,excepting rbs hurry of tr~de, &c.,upon the coast, which is rather occasional than conw t , afforded me abundance of leisure. To be at sea in these ciycumstances, withdrawn out of the reach of innumerable temptations, with oppor~nityand a turn of mind disposed to observe the wenders of God in the great deep, with the two noble objects of sight, the expanded heavens, and .the expanded ocean " continually in view, dnd where evident inrer-

positions of Divine Providence, in answer to payer, occur ahnost every day; these are

# 116 LIFE OF '

helps to quicken and confirm the' life of faith, which, in a good measure, supply to a religious sailor the want of those advantages, which can be only enjoyed upon the shore. And, indeed, though my knowledge of spiritual things (a$ knowledge is usually estimated) was, at this time, very small, yet I sometimes look back with regret upon these scenes. I never knew sweeter or more frequent hours of divine communion than in my two last voyages to Guinea, when I was either almost secluded from society on shipboard, or when on shore amoilgst the natives. I have wandered through the woods, reflecting on the singular goodness of the Lord to me, in a place where, perhaps, there was not a person that knew Him, for some thousand miles round me. Many a time, upon these occasions, I have restored the beautiful lines of Propertius to the right owner ;lines full of blasphemy and madness ;when addressed to a creature, but full of comfort and propri. ecy in the mouth of a believer.

Sic ego desertis passim bene vivere sykis

Quo nulla humano'sit v i a trita pede : Tu mihi curarum requies, in nocta vel atra Lumcn, W in ~ o l i s mihi trwba loeis.

Pd14PHRASED. h desert wcm46Wfth thee mf Gd, Where human footsteps never trod, HQ!. happy could I be ! Thou my repose from care, m%lighr, Amidst the darkness of the night,

In solitude my company. In the course of this wya* I was W O ~ O P - - fully preserved ih the midst ofmahy obvious ;md many unforeseen dangers. me time &eh was a conspiracy among my own pee- $e to turn pirates and take the sbii korn me. When the plot was nearly ripe and they only waited a conv&ient opport'unity, two of those conereed in It were taken ill one day ;one of them died, and he was the only pergon f buried while on board. This suspended the &airt and opened a way to its discovery, or the consequences &ight have been fatal. The daqs on board were like~oisefrequently plotting ins$rrections, and were somethes upon the very brink of mischief; but it was alvays disclosed in due time. When I haire thought myself most secure, I have been suddenly alarmed with &anger, and wheh I have almost despaired pf lifet sadden a deliverance has been vouchsafed me. My stay upon the coast was long, the trade Very plecarious, and, in the pursuit of my business, both on board md on shore, Iwas in,&a~hs @n. Let the folhwing instance serve as a specimen.

118 LIPE OF

' I was at a place called Mana, near Cape Mount, where I had transacted very iarge concerns, and had, at the time I am speaking cf some debts and accounts to settle, which required my attendance on shore, and I intended to go the'next morning. When I arose, I left the ship, according to my purpose ;but when I came near the shore, the surf, or breach of the sea ran so high, that I was almost afi-aid to attempt landing. Indeed I had often ventured at a worse time, but I felt an inward hindrance and backwardness, which I could not account for :the surf furnished a pretext for indulging it, and after waiting and hesitating for about half an hour, 1 retyrned to the ship without doh6 any business, which, I think, I never dtd but that morning, in all the time I used that trade. But I soon ,perceived the reason of all this. It seems, the day before I intended to land, a scandalous and groundless charge had been laid against me (by wh6se instigation I could never learn) which greatly threatened my honor and interest, both in Africa;and England,

and would, perhaps, humanly speaking, have affected my life, if I had landed, according to my intention. I shall, perhaps, inclose a letter, which will give a full account of this strange adventure, and therefore shall say no more of it here, any farther than to tell you, ?hat an attempt,aimed to destroy either my life

JOHN NEWTON.

or character, and *hich might, very probably, is its consequences, have ruined my voyage, passed off withcut the least inconvenience. The person most concerned owed me about an hundred pounds, which he sent me in a hufF,.and otherwise, perhaps would riot have paid me at all. I was very uneasy for a few hours, but was soon afterwards cbmforted. I heard no more of my accllsation~ till the next voyage, and then it was publicly ac&owledged to have been a malicious calumny, without

the least shadow of a ground.

Such were the vicissitudes and difficulties through which the Lord preserved me. Now and then both faith and patience were sharply exercised, but suitable strength was given; and as those thin S did not occur every day, the study of the %atin, of which I gave a general account in my last, was renewed, and carried on from time to titne, when business

would permit. I was mostly very regulzr in the management of my time ;I allotted about eight hours for sleep and me& eight hours for exercise and devotion, and ei ht hours to my books :and thus, by diversi fying my engagements, the whole day was agreeably filled up, and I seldom found a day too long, or an hour to spare. My studies kept me employed, and so far it was well ; otherwise, they were hardly worth the time they cost, as they led me to an admiration of false mo-

Ieo LIFE OF

dels and false maxims ;an almost unavoidable consequence, I suppose, of an admiration of classic authors. Abating what I have attained of the language, I think I might have read Cassandra or Cleopatra to as good pup pose as I read Livy, tvhpm I now account a& equal romancer, though in a different way.

From the coast I went to St. $2hr>stoph2s ; and here my idolatrous heart was its own punishment. The letters I expected from Mrs. ****** were by mistake forwarded to Antigua, which had been at first proposed as o6r port. As I was certain of her punctuality in writing, if alive, I concluded, by not hearing from her, that she was surely dead.

This fear affected me more and more ;Idosi my appetite and rest ; I felt an incessant pain ia my stomach, and, in about three weeks time, I was near sinking under the weight of pn imaginary stroke. I felt some severe symptoms of that mixture of pride and madness, which is commonly called a broken heart ;and indeed, I wonder that this case is not more common than it appears to be. How often do the potsherds of the earth presume to contend with-their Maker ? And what a wonder ofmercy is it that they are not all broken : However my complaint was not all grief ; conscience had a share. E thought my unfaithfulness to God had deprived me of her especiaUvl my 'dwardness in speaking of

JOHN NEWTON. 131

syiriwal things, which Icould hardly attempt, even to her. It was this thought, that I had lost invaluable; irrecoverable op rtunities, which both duty and affection sl? ould have engaged me to improve, that chiefly stung me ; and I thought I would have given the world to know she was living, that I might at least1 discharge my engagements by writipg, though I was never to see her again. This was " a sharp lesson, but I hope it did me good ;

And when I had thus suffered wme weeks, I~houghtof sending a small vessel to Antigua. I did so, a ~ d she brought me several packets, which restored my health and peace, and gave me a strong contrast of the Lord's goodness to me, and my unbelfef and ingr~itude towards him.

In Augzlst 1753, J returned to L--. M y stay was very short at home, that voyage, only six weeks ; in that space nothing very memorable occurred I shall therefore begin my next with an account of my third and last voyage. And thus I give both you and myself hopes of,a speedy period to those memoirs, which begin to-be tedious and minute, even to myself ;only I am animated by the thought that I write at your request, and have thercfore an opportunity of shewing myself

& Your obliged servant. - Janua?- 31, 1763.

182 LIFE OF

LETTER XIII. ,

Dcar Sir,

Y third voyage was shorter, and less

perplexed than either of the former. Before I sailed, I met with a young man who had formerly been a midshipman, and my in-, timate companion on borird the HarwichHe was, at the time I first knew him, a sober youth, but I found too much success in my

unhappy attempts to infect him with libertine principles. When we met at L-, our acquaintance renewed upon the ground of our fornfer intimacy. He had good sense, and had read many books, Our conversation frequently turned upon religion, and I was very desirous to repair the mischief I had done him. I gave him a plain account of the manner and revon of my change, and used every argument to persuade him to relinquish his infidel schemes : and when I sometimes pressed him so close that he had no other reply to make, he would remind me that I was the very first person who had ghen him an idea of his liberty. This occasioi~ed me many mournful reflections. H e was then going

LO Guinea himself, but before his ship was rcady, his merchlmt became a bankrupt, which il:ccor~-rtdhis voyage. A s he had no far-

&er eqectations for that year, 1 o&red to take him with me as a companion, that he mightgain a knowielige of the coast ;and the gentleman who employed me promised to provide for him upon his return. My view in this was not so much to serve him in bis business as to have an opportunity o f .debating she point with him at leisure ;and I hoped, in the course of my voyage, my'argurnents, example and prayers, might have some good e&ct on him. My intention in this step was better than my judgment, and I had frequent reason to repent it. He was exceeding profane, and grew worse and worse : I saw in him a most liveIy picture of what I had once been, but it was very inconvenient to have it always before my eyes. Besides, he was not only deaf to my remonstrances himself but labored all he could to counteract my influhe upon others. His spirit and passion was likewise exceeding high, so that it required all my prudence and authority to hold him in any degree of restraint. He was as a sharp thorn in my side for some time: but at length I had an opportunity, upon the coast of buying a small vessel, which I supply- , ed with a cargo from my own, and gave

him the command and sent him away to

trade on the ship's account. When we parted, I repeated and enforced my best advice. J[ believe his friendship and regard was as

U 4 LIFE OF

great as could be expected, where principles were so diametrically opposite ; he seemed greatly affected when 1 left him, but my words had no weight with him; when he found himself a6 liberty fkom unde6 my eye, he gave a hasty roose to every appetite ; and his violent irregularities, joined to the heat of the climate soon threw him into a malignant fever, which carried him off in a fey days.

H e died convinced but not changed. The account I had from those urho were with him was dreadful ; his rage and despair struck them all with horror, and he pronounced his - own fatal doom before he expired, without any appearance tl:at he either hoped or asked for mercy. I thought this awful contrast might not be improper to give ysu, ss a I stronger view of the distinguislied goodnes of God to me, the chief of sinners.

I left the coast in about four months, and sailed for St. Cliristophers Hitherto I Imd enjoyed a perfect state of hedltii, equaliy in every climate for several years ; but dpon this passage, I was visited with a fever, which gave me a very near prospect of eternity : I have obtained liberty to inclose you three or four letters, which will more clearly il!ustratC the state and measure of my expe-' at L ~ e n ~ e , different times, than any thing I can say at present. One of them you will find was wrote at this period, when I could lisrdly hold a

. _* RI-"- - .~--- - m- --

JOHN NEWTON. 125 ' . t pen*and had some reason to believe' I shoqld write no more. l' had not that lempbria," which is so desirable at a t h e when flesh and heart faif ; but my hopes were greater than my fears, and I felt a silent composure of spirit, which enabled me to wait the event without much anxiety. My ryust, though weak in degree, was f i n e fixed upon the blood and righteousness of Jesus, and those wcjrds,

he is able to save to the uttermost., gave me' great relief.-l was for a while tro~bled with a very singular thoug!~t ;whethw it was a temptation, or that the fever disordered my facultieq I cannot say ; but I seemed laot so much afraid of wrath and punishment, as of being lost and overlooked amidst the myriads that are continually entering the unseen world. What is my soul, thought I, amongst such an innumerable multitude of beings-and this troubled, me greatly. Perhaps the Lord will take no notice of, me. I was perplexed thus for some tide, but at last a text of scripture, very apposite to the case occurred to my mind, and put an end to the doubt, The Lord knoweth them that are his." In about ten days, beyond the hopes of those about me, I began to amend, and, by.the time of our arrival in the West-Iddies, I was perfectly reco-

vered.-I hope this visitation was made useful to me. * Full assurance.

L 2

1ZQ LIFE bf ,

Thus far, that is, for about .the space of six years, the Lord was plcascd to lead me in a secret way. Iwhad learnt something of the evil of my heart 5, I had read the Bible owr and over, w i ~ h several good books, and had a general view of the gospel-truth. But my conceptions were, ill many respects, corfused ; not having, in all this time; met wit5 one ac-

quaintance who could asis? my enqniri'c's. But, upon my xriv~1,2'iSt. Chrisropher's, this voyage, I found a capt~in of a ship from London, whose conversatiun wzs gre'itljr hclyful to me. Ile was, and is, a member of Mr. R--r's church, a man of erFerience in the thi~igsof God, and of a lively communicative turri. We discovered eaclr other by some casud expressions in a mixed company, and soon became, so fa-as I,ucines< would permit, ins~pai~blc. For nzar a month, we spent every even;ng .I b a r d each other's ship alternately, and often p r o l q r d m r visits till towards day-break. I w ~ sa11 ews ; and what was better, he not only informed my understandinp, hut ?G? discourse inflqmed my heart. He exour::-,d me to open my mouth inmcinl Fr'tycr ;he tau$ me the advantage of clirisrian converse ; he put me up on anUattempt to make my profession more public, and to ventwe to speak for God.

From him, or rather from the Lord, by his means, 'Ireceived ~ J Iincrease of knowledge :

JOHN NEWTON. . 1%;

my conceptions becaine cbarer and more evangelical, and I was delivered from a fear

which had long troublh m$ the fear of relapsin$iqto my former apostacy. But now I began to understand the security of the COvenaut of gate, and to expect to be preserved, not by my own power and holiness,* but by the mighty power and promise of God, through Faith, in an unchangeable Saviour. We likewise gave me a general view of the b state of religion, with the errors and contro-

versies of the timesj(things to which I had been intirely a stranger,) and finally, directed me where to apply in London for further instruction : with these new acquired advantages, I left him, and my passage homewards gave me leisure to digest what I had received ;

I had mach comfort and freedom during tho* " seven weeks, and my sun was seldom clouded,

I arrived safe in L=-, August 1754. My stay at home was intended to be but *short, and by the beginning of November, I was again ready for the sea ; but the Lord saw fit to over-rulemy design. During the time I was engaged in the slam trade, I never had the least scruple as to its lawf~~lness;

T was, upon the whole, satisfied with it, as the appointmeat Providence had marked out

:hr me ; yet it was, in many respects, far frpm eligible. It is indeed, accounted a geatee1 employmeot, and is usually vwy profita-

128 LIFE OF

ble, though to rnc it did not prove so, the ,Lord seeing that a large increase of wealth

would not be good for me. However, I considered myself as a sort of a Gaoler or Turnkey; and I was sonietimes shocked with an employment that was perpetually conversnnt with chains, bolts and shackles. In this view I had ofien petitioned, in my prayers, that the Lord (in his own time) would be pleased to fix me in a more humane calling, in$, if it might be, place me where I might have more frequen~ converse with his people and ordinances; a ~ d be freed from those long separations from home, which very often were hard to bear : my prayers were now answered, though in a way I little expected. I now exyerienced another sudden unforseen change of life : I was within two days ol sailing, a i d to all appearance, in good health as usual ; but i1.1 the afternoon as I was sitting with Mrs. ******, by ourselves, drink- . ing tea, and talking over past events, I was , in a moment seized with a fit, which deprived me of sense and motion, and left me no other sign of life than that of breathing. I suppose it was of the apoplectic kindit lasted about an hour, and when I recovered, it left a pain and dkziness in my head, which continued with such symptoms, as induced the physicians to judge it would not be safe or prudent for me to proceed on the voy-

JOHN NEW?"t)N. - Aceokdingiy, by the adtrice rrf a y age. friend, to whom the ship belongeh I resigned the command the day before she sailed : and thus I was unexpectedly called from that service, and freed from dshare of the futuge consequences of that voyage, which proved extremely calamitous. The pietson who went in my room, most of the officers, and many of the crew, died, andthe vessel was brought home with great difficulty. " As I now was disengaged from busirps, I left L ,and spent the following year at London and in Kefit. But entered upon ' a new trial.--You will easily conceive that Mrs. +W* was not an unconcerned spectator, when I lay extended, and as she thought, expiring upon the ground. In effect, the blow that struck me reached her in the same instarit. She did not indeed immediately feel it till her apprehensions on my account began to subside,

but as I grew better, she became worse ;her susprize threw her into a disorder, which no physicians could define, or medicines remove.

Without any of the ordinary symptoms of S consumption, she decayed almost visibly, till

she became so weak &at she could hardly Sear any one to walk across the room she was in. I was placed for about $e* months i? what Dr. Young calls the

I so LIFE OF

-It was not till after my settlemept in my ,presbt station that the Lord was pleased to

restore her by his own hand, when all hopes from ordinary means were at 'an end. But before this took place I have some other par. ticulars to mehtion, which must be the subject of the following sheet, which I hope will be the last on this subject from

-" Your affectionate servant. February 1, 1763.

LETTER XIV,

Dear Sir, B

Y the directions I: had received from my

friend at St. Kitt's, I soon found out a religious acquaintance in London. I first applied to Mr. B--, and chiefly attended uponhis ministry, when in town. From him 1 received many helps, both in public

and private ; for he was pleased to favor me with his friendship from the first. His kindness, and the intimacy between us, has continued and increased to this day ; and of all my many friends, I am most deeply indebted to him. The late Mr. H-d was my second acqi~aintance ; a man of a choice spirit, rtnd an abundant zeal for the Lord'-

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YOHNNEWTON^ 191

service. I enjoyed his cprespondei~ce till near the time of his death, Boon afier, upon Mr. W - d ' s return from America, my two good friends introduced me to him ; and though I had little personal acquaintance with him till afterwards, his miaistry was exceeding useful to med I had likewise access ro some reIigio~s societies, and became known to many excellent christians in private life; Thus when at London, 1 lived at the fountain-head, as it were, for spiritual advantages. When I was in Kent it wa,s verj. different, yet X found some serious persons there ;but the fiec variegated woodland country afforded me advanta es of another kind. Most of my time, at peast some hours every, day, I passed in retirement, when the weather was fair; sometimes in the thickest woods, sometimes on the highest hills, where almost every qep varied the prospect.

It has been my custom, for'many years, to perform my devotional exercise sub dio, when I have opportunity, and I always find these rural scenes have some tendency, both to refresh and to compose my 'spirits. A beautiful diversitied prospect gladdens my heart. When I am withdrawn from the noise and petty works of men, I consider myself as in the greater temple, which the Lord has built for his own honor.

p h e country between Rochester and Maid-

182 UFE OF

stone, borderidg upon the Med-rvay, was we3

suited to the turn cf my nzhd ; and was I to go over it now, f codd poil:: to many a place

where I remember to have either earnestly sought, orhappily found, the Lord's comfor: table presence with my soul. And thus E lived, sometimes in London, and sometimes in the country, till the autumn of the following year. All this while I had iwo trials more or less, upon my mind; the first and principal was Mrs. ******'S illness ; she still grew worse, and I had daily more reason to fear that the hclur of separation was at hand. When faith was in exercise, I was in some measure resigned to the Lord's will : but too often my heart rebelled, and I found it hard, either to trust or submit. I had likewise some care about my future settlement : the African trade was overdone drat year, and my friends did not clre to fit out another ship $11 mine retnr~~eci. I was sometimer in SUSpence, hut, indeed, a provision of food and raiment has seldom been a cause of great solicitude to me. I found it easier to trust the Lord in this point than in the former, and accordingly this was first answcpd. In August 1 received an account, that I was nominated to d ~ e oilice of- - These places are usudtlly obtained, or at least sought, by much interest and appiication ; but this l-amo to 3;: l~nsoilghran? unexpected. P

JOHN ,N&W,XQ'N.

knew, i n d d , my good friend, in L - had -endeavored tb ~ m c u r q anotiia post for me, but found it pre-engaged. 3 fowd aft m r d s , that the place I iiad missed would have been very unsuitable for me, and that this, which I had no thou ht of, was the very thin I could have wishe5 for,, affording me muca leisure and the libenp of *living in my own way. Several circumstapces unhticed by others, concurred to .shew me that the good h d of the Lord yas as remarkably concerned in this event as in any other leading turn of my life.

But when I gained this point, my distress in the other was doubIed : I was obliged to leave Mrs. ****** in the greatest extremity of pain and illness, when the physici~ns could do. no more, and I had no ground of hope, that I shodd see her aga+ aJive, 5ut this,- that nothing is impossible with the Lord. had a severe conflict, byt fsitb prevailed :I found &e promise remarkably fu1filled, of strenstfi proportioned to mg need. The day before I set out, and not till then, the burthen was entirely taken from my mind ; I was

strengthened to resign both her and myself to the Lord's d i s p d , and departed from her in a cheerful frame. Soon after I was gone she began ta amend, and recovered so fast,, that in about two months I had the pleasure to m&t her at Stsae, on her jolianey to L-l

134 LIFE OF

! And now, I think, I hkve answered, if not exceeded, your desire. Since. October 6755, we have been comfortably settled here, and all my circumstances, have been as remarkably smooth and uniform as they were various in former years. My trials have been light and few-not but that I still find in the experience of every day the necessity of a life of faith. My principal trial is-the body of sin and death, which makes me often to sigh out the Apostle's complaint, "0 a wretched man !" but with him likewise I can say, 'g I thank God, through Jesus Christ

my Lord." I live in a barren land, where the knowledge and power of the gospel is very b w ; yet here are a few of the Lord's people ;and this wilderness has been an useful school to me, wheie I have studied more leisurely the truths I gathered up in London. I'brought down with mea considerable stock of notional truth, but I have since found, that there is no effectual teacher but God ; that we can receive no fmthbr than he is pleased to communicate ;and that no knowledge is truly useful to me, but what is made my own by experience. Many things, I thought I had learned, would not stand in an hour of temptation, till I had in this wag learned them over again. Since the year 1757, I have had an increaskg acquaintance in the Wmt Riding of Yorkshire, where the

JOHN *@TON. 135

I gcispel flourishes ,greatly. This has been a goad school to me : I hare conversed at large among all parties witholtt joining any ; and in my attempts to hit the golden mean, I have sometimes been drawn too near the different extremes ; yet the Lord has enabled me to profit by my mistakes. In brief, I am still q learher, and the Lord still condesends to teach me. I begin at length tb' see that I , have attained but very little; but I trust in him to canp on his own work in my soul, and by all the dispensations of his grace and providence to increase the knowledge of him and

of myself.

When I was fixed in a house, and found my business would afford me much leisure time, I considered in what manner I should improve it. And now having reason to close with the apostle's determination, U to know

nothing but Jesus Christ and him, crucified," I devoted my life to the prosecution of spiritual knowledge, and iesolved to pursue nothing but in subservience to this main de-

sign. This resolutiaa divorced me (as I have already hinted) from the classics and mathematics. My first attempt was to learn so much Greek, as would enable me to understand the New Testament and Septuagint; a ~ d

when I had made some progress this map, I entered upon the Hebrew the following year ;.

and two years afterwards, having surmised

some advantages from the a Syria version. I began widi that language. You muqt not think that I have attained, or ever aim*.t n: critic 11 skill in any t.4 these ; I hdd no b.:.;- ness $with them, but as in reference to I - thing else I never read one classic x i l ~ ~ tar in the Greek ;I thought it too late in life to take such a round in this language, as I had done in the Latin. I only wanted the sig~~ification of scriptural words and phrases, ,nd for this I thought I might avail myself of

Scapula, the S?/aopsis, and others, who had sustained the drugwy before me. In the Hehew I can read the historical books and psalms with tolerable ease ;but in the prophetical and diflicult parts, I am frequently obliged to have recourse to Lexicons, &c. However, 1 know so much, as to be abk, wit!! such helps as are at hand, to judge for myself the meaning of any passage I have occasion to consult. Beyond this I do not think of proceeding, if I can find better employment ; for I would rather be some wdy useful to others, than die with reputation of an eminent linguist.

Together with these studies, I have kept up a course of reading of the best writers in divinity; that have come to my hand, in the Latin and EngliJb tongue, and some French {for I picked up the French at times, while 1 used the sea.) But withiq these two or

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J ~ N N E W T O N . 197'

throe years I have accustomed myself chiefly to wrltmg; a d have not fpmd time to read many books besides, the scriptclre*

I am the more particular in this account, as my case has been something singular; for in all my literary attempts, I have been obliged to strike out my own path, by the light I could acquire from books, as I have not had a teacher or assistant since I was ten years of age.

One word concerning my views to the ministty, and 1 have done. f kdve toldyou, that this was my dear mother's hope concerning me; but her death, and the scenes of life in which I afterwards engaged, seemed to cut off the probability. The first desires of this sort in my own mind, arose many years ago, from a reflection on Gal. i. 23, 24, I could not but wish for such a public oppbrturs.it~+ to testify the riches of 3- , vine grace. I. thought I was;abovd most c jiving, a fir person to proclaim that faithful saying, " That Jesus Christ came into the

world to save the chief of sinners : and as my life had been full of remarkable turns and I seemed seletted to shew what the Lord could do, 1 was in some hopes that perhaps sooner or later, he might call me into this service.

I believe it was a distant hope of this, that determined me to study the original =riptures ;but it remaiaed an imperfect. desire in my own breast, till it was recommended to

M 2

me by ecime christian friends. I started at tRe thought, when first seriously propfised to . me ;but afterwards set apart some weeks to consider the case, to consult my friends, and to intreat the Lord's directions-The judgment df my f*ends, and many things that occurred, tended to engage me. My first thought was to join the dissenters, from a presumption that I could not honestly make the required subscriptions : but Mr. C-, in a c nversation upon these points, moderated m$ scruples ; and, preferring the established church in some other respects, I accepted a little from him, some months afterwards, 2nd solicited ordination from the late Archbishop of York a I neednot tell you I met a refusal, nor what steps I tonk afterwards to succeed elsewhere. A t present I desist from any applications. My desire to serve the Lord is not weakencd ; but I am not so hasty to push myself forwards as I was formerly. I t is sufficient that he knows how to dispose of me, and that he both can and will do what is best. To him I commend myself: I trust that his will, and my true interest, are inseparable. T o his name be glory for ever. And thus I conclude my story, and presume you will acknowledge, I have been particular enough. 1 have 'room for no more, but to repeat thtlt I am, Sir Your's. February 2, 1769.

i R E L A T I O N OF SOME P A R ~ C U L A R S , RE-

SPECTlEiG THE CAUSE, PROGRESS, AND &LOSEOF THE LAST ILLNEES, OF $MY

LAVE BEAR W I F ~ .

MONO my readers, there will doubt-

, less be some of a gentle sympathising spmt, with whom I am not personally ac-

quainted ;and perhaps their feelings may so far interest them in my concerns, as to make tliem nor unwilling ta read a brief account of my late great trial. I shall allot a few pages

to thir, purpose, by way of close to my book and,to my history.

My dear wife had naturally a good constitutiori, and was favored with good spirits, to - the last. But the violent shock she sustxined, in the year 2754, when I was suddenly at-

tacked with a fit, (I know not of what kind). which left me no sign of Te,for about an. horn, but bresthing, made as sudden a change

in her habit, and subjected her, from that tiw, to a variety of chronic complaints. -

She -was several times confined, for five or six months, to her chamber, and oftenbrought so low that her recovery was deemed hopeless. I believe, she spent ten years, out of the forty that she was spared to me, (if all the days of her sufferings were added together,) in illness, and pain, but she had likewise long intervals of health. The fit I have metltioned (the only one I ever had) was the mean, the Lord was pleased to appoint, in answer to my prayer, to free me from the irksome, sea-faring life, in which I was, till then, engaged, and to appoint me a settlement on shore.

Before our removal from Liverpool, she received a blow upon her left beast, which occasioned her some pain and anxiety, for a little time, but which soon wore off. A small lump remained in the part affected, but I heard no more of i~ for many years. I believe that, latterly, she felt more than I was aware of ; but her tenderness for me made her conceal it. as long as possible. I have often since wondered at her success ; and how I could be kept so long ignorant of it.

In the month of October, lf 88, she applied, unknown to me, to a friend of mine, an eminent surgeon. Her design was, if he approved it to submit to an operation, and so to adjust rime and circumstances with him, that it might be performed in my absence, and

APPENDIX 141 *

before 'f codd kngv,it, But the surgeon told her, that the malady was tw far advanced, and the tumor (the size of which he eompared to the half of a melon) was two large, to warrant the hope of being extracted, without the most imminent danger of life, and that he durst not attempt it. He could give her buk little advice, more than to keep herself as quiet; and her mind as easily, as possible,. and lit& more encouragement, than by saying, that the pains to which she was

exposed, were generally rendered tolerable ,by the use of laudmum ; to which, however,

she had a dislike,ride short of an antipathy.

I rannot easily describe the composure, and resipation, with which she gave me this recitaL the next day, of ber interview

with the surgesn ;nor of the sensations of my mind while I heard it. My conscience told me, thgt I had well deserved to be wounded, wbere I was niost sensible; and that it W* Iny duty, to submit with silence to the will of tho Lord. But I strongly felt that unless lte was pleased to give me this submission, I was more likely to toss like 2 .wild bull in a net, in diflance of my better

judgment. - Soon after, the Lord was pleased to visit our dear adopted daughtcr, wiih a dreaciful fever, which, at first, greatlf affected her hervp, and afterwards became putrid. Shc

was brought very near to the grave indeed ; ,for we once or twice, thought her acrilally

dead. But he, who in the midst ofjudgment remembers mercy, restored her, and still preserves her, to be the chief temporal comfort of my old age, and to afford me the greatest aHeviatioa of the loss I was soon to experience, that the case could admit.

The attention, and anxiety, occasioned by this heavy dispensation, which lasted during the whole of a very severe winter, were by no means suited to promote that tranquility of mind, which my good friend wished my dear wife would endeavor to preserve. She was often much fatigued, and much alarmed. Next to each other, this dear child had the nearest place, both in her heart and mine. The effects were soon apparent : as the spring of 89 advanced her malady rapidly increased ; her pains were , almost incessant, and often intense, and she could seldofn lie one hour in bed, in the same position. Oh ! niy heart, what did% thou then suffer.

But in April, the God heareth prayer, mercifully affordeth relief ; and gave such a blessing to the means employed, that her pains ceased. And though I believe, she never had an hour of perfect ease, she felt little of the distressing pains, incident to her malady, from that time, to t4e end of her

APPENDIX. 14s

'life, (which was about twenty m o n k ) excepting at three or fow short mtteruals, wMch taken together, hardly amounted to two hours* and these returns 'of anguish, I thought, were permitted, to shew me, how much I was indebted to the goodness of God, for exempting her feelings, and my sgmpathy,'frorn what wmld have been terrible indeed t

In the close of the summer she w a s able to go to Southanlpton, and return tolerably well.

She was twice at church in the Rrst week after she came home. She then went no more qbroad, except in a coach, for a little air and exercise ;but she was cheerful, tolerably easp, slept as well as most people, who are in perfect health, and could receive, and cbnverse with her kind friends, who visited her.

It was not Ion. after, that she began to have a distaste for &od, which continued, and encreased ;so that perhaps her heath was, at last, rather owing to weakness, from want of nourishment, than to her primary disorder. Her dislikq was, first to butcher's meat, of which she could bear neither the sight, nor the smell. Poultry, and fish, in their turns, became equally distasteful. She retained some relish for small birds, a while after she z, had given up the rest ; but it was a season, when they were difficult to be obtained. I

3 shall always feel my obEgarions, to the khd

144 ABPENDlX.

fiiends, \v110 spared no pains, to procure some for hcr, when they were not to be had

in the markets. At that time I set more value upon a dozen of larks, than upon the finest ox in Smithfield. But her appetite failed to these also, when they became mare plentiful.

Under this trying discipline, I learnt, more sensibly than ever, to pity those, whose sufferings of a similar kind are aggravated by POrerty. Our distress was not small ;)et we had every thing within reach, that could in any degree, conduce to her refreshment, or relief ;and we had faithful, and affectionate, servants, who were always willingly engaged

to their power, yea, as the apostle bpeaks, beyond their power, in attending, and assisring her by night, and by day. What must be the feelings of those, who, when afflicted with grievous, diseases, pine away, unpitied, simoticed, without help,and inagrext measure

destitute of common necessaries? this reflection among others, contributed to quiet my mind, and to convince me, that I had still more cause for thankfulness, than for complaint.

For about a twelvemonth of her confinement, her spirits vere good, her patience was bxemplary, and there was a cheerfulness in fwlooks, and her language that was wonderful. Often the liveliness of her remarks, has forced a smile fiom us, when the tears were in

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APPENDIX. I45

1. our eyes. Whateverr little *&triva?ces she f-ed for her ap~usetnent,in-the course of the day, she wo&d &tend tB nothibg, eilI she had finished her ,stated readihg of the sciip- ~ ture ;in which she employed much time, and

reat attention. I have her bible by me, Iwhich i w~nld. not part with for half the

the Vatican) in which, almost cext ftom the:beginning to the

is marked in' thy mar in, with a pencil, by her own dear had. he B

ood word of God was her medicine and her ood, while she was able to read it. She read Dr. Watts' psalms and hymns and the Olney hymns, in the same manner. There are few of them in which one, two or more verses are not thus mprked ;and, in inany, which I suppose she read more freq&ntly, every,verse is marked.

B3ut in October, the enemy was permitted for a while to take advantage of her bodily weakness, to disturb the Serenity and peace of her mind. Her thoughts bccarne clouded, and confused ;and she gradually lost, not on3y the comfortable evidence, of her own interest, in the precious truths of the bible, but she lost all hold of the truth itself. She doubted the truth of the bible, or whether truth existed. And together with thin, die expressed an extreme reluctance t6 death ; and could not easily bear, the most distant

" N

\-- I

hint of h ~ r appioachkg end, though we wcic expecting it daily, and houfly. This was' the acme, the high water-mark of my trial ; this was hard to bear indeed.

My readers, perhaps, will scarcely believc, that I derived some consolation, during this gloomy period, from perceiving, that her attxhment to me was very sensibly abated.

She spoke to me, with an indifference, of wl~ich, a little before, she was incapable. If when the Lord's presence was withdrawn, and shc,coa!& derive no cor:.fort from his word, she liad fnund some relief, from my being with her, or from hearingme speak; I shouldhave been more griered. lie;. affection to ye, runfirmed by so many prcofs, in the course of forty years, was not to be impeached, by this temporary suspension of its exercise. I judged the same, of the frame of her mind as to her spiritual concerns I ascribed them both to the same causes, her bodily weakness, and the power of temptation. She was relieved in both respects, after about a fortnight spent in conflict and dismay. The Lord restored peace to her soul, and then, her former tenderness to me revived. Then, likewise, she cculd calmly speak of her approaching disso- , lution. She mentioned some particulars coc- ~crning her funcral, mJ our ddmestic conccrns, with great composure. But her mind as ~ i o ~ so filly restored to its former tone,

APPENDIX. ' 1.1;

as to give her freedoin to enlarge upon l m hopes, and vims,as I bad wished, till pear her dissolution ;and then she was too low to speak at all.

One additibn to our trial, yet remained. I t had been her custom, when she went from the sofa -tu hef bed,- to-exert herself, for my encouragement, toLew how well she could walk. But it pleased @e Lord, that, by wme alterath, which affectedFher spine, she was dipabled fram rnovin hetself ;and other circumstances rendere d it extremely difficult to move her. I t has taken five of us near two hours, to remove her from one side of the bed to the other, and, at times, even this was impracticable : so th?t she has lain more than a week, exactly in the same spot, ~ i t h o u t the possibility of changing her position. A11 this was necessary on my acr count. The rod had a voice ; and it was the voice of the Lord. I undentood the meaning no less plainly, than if she had spoken audibly from heaven, and said, cc Now contemplate your idol. Wow+ see what she is, whom you once presumed to prefer 12

Me !" Even this bitter cup was sweetenec{, by the patience, and resignation, which He gave her. When I have said, You suffeq greatly ;her answer usually was, cc I su&f, indeed, but not greatly." And she often upr re sad her thnkf~dne~s, &at though 1:cl

148 APPENDIX.

body was immoveable, she was still perrrjtted the hse of her hapds.

One of the last sensible concerns she felt, respecting thit world, was, when my honored friend, patron and benefactor, the late John Tborhton, &sq. of Clapham, was removed to a better. She revered, and regarded him, I believe, more than she did any person upon earth ;and she had reason. Few, had nearer access, to Imow, and admire, his character ; and perhaps none, were under greater, if equal, obligations to him, thaa we. She knew of hb illness, but was always afraid to enquire after the event ;nor should X have ventured to inform her, but that t L occasiori requiring me to leave her, for four or five hours, when I hardly expected to, find her alive, at my return, I was constrained to give her the reason cif my absence. She eagerly replied, " Go by all means ;I would not have YOU stay with me, upon any consideration." ,I put the funeral ring I was favored with, into her hand ; she put it first to her lips, then to her eyes, bedewing it with tears. I trust they soon met again. Byt she

A survived him more than a month.

Her head became so affected, that I could do little more than sit and look at her. Our intercourse by words was nearly broken off. She could not easily bear the sound of the gentlest .foot upon the carpet, nor of the

APPBND~X~ 149

1 7 , softest ecice. Qq Sundsty the L2th Decem: ber, when I was preparing for Church in-the mbrning she sent for me, and we took a final farewel, as to this world. SheTaintlf uttered an endearing compellation, v hich was familiar to Fer; and gaveme her hand, which I held, ,while I prayed by her bed-side. We exchanged a few ,tears ;%ut ZIwas almost as unable to speak, as she was, &It I soon returned after* and said, " If your mind, as I trust, is $n a state of peace, it will be a comfort to me, if you can signify it by holding up your hand. She held it up, and waved it to and fro several times.

That evening, her speech, her sight, and I believe her hearing, wI101l.y failed. She

t appeared perfectly composed, without takiag

notice of any tEng, or discovering any sign of pain, or uneasiness, till Wednesday, evening, towards seven o'clock. She then began to, breathe very hard : her breathin might be called groaning, for it was hear 2 in every part of the house ; but I believe i: was entirely~owingto the difficulty of expiririm, for she Iky quite still, with a placid countenance, as if in a gentle slumber, there was 110 startor struggle,or a fcature ruBed. I took &y post by her bed sidc, and watched he;: nearly three hours, with a candle in my hand, till f sawher breathe her last,on the r.5tF of Decem. ber I'iSO, a little before ten hthe eveniiig:

d When I was sure she was gone,.I took oE her ring, accurding to her repeated in'unction, and put it upon iny own finger. ithen kneeled down, with t& qnra$ts who were in the room, afid returned the f,ordm]r unfeigned thanks for his deliverance, and her peaceful dihmission.

How wonderful must be the moment after death ! What a transition did she tllcn expcrience ! 9he, was instantly freed from sin, and all its attendant S~)T.FOWS, and I trust, instantly admitted to join the heavenly choir. That moment, was remarkable, to me, likewise. It removed from me, the chief object, which made another day, or hour uf

Iffe, as to my own personal concern,-desirable. At the same time, it set me free from -a weight of painful feelings, and anxieties,

under which, nothing short of a divine pow. . er, cauld have so long supported me.

I believe it was about two or three months before her death, when I was walking up and down the room, offering disjointed prayers, from a heart torn with distress, that a thought suddenly struck me, with unusual 6 r c this effect : The promises of^ God mu rrne ;surely the Lord will help me, g i a m dlling to 6e helpcd! I t occuired to me, that

we me often led, from a complacence in what we call our sensibility, to indulge that ,anprofitable grief, which both wr duty, w.d

fWPEPJDI$. IS1

our peace, require as m resist, to the lurmoot 'of pur power. I instaidy said dou& h r d , I am helpless indeed, in myself,but I hope B am willing, without reserve, that thou shouldathelp me.

It had been such tipMYpind, from the beginning oJf thig -trial, that 1WBS a minister, and that h e y e s of many %ere upon rhe, that my turn of preaching ha

to d e a v o r to cohfort pr-ting the gospel as a c an effectual remedy for pensation for every want ar lass, to those who t d y raeiue it. So ,,thdt though a believer may be afflicted, he cannot be properly unhappy ; unless he ioes way to self-W$, and unbelief. 1 had 6ften told my hearers, that a state of trial, if rightly improved, was, to the Christian, a post of hnor, affording the fairest opportunity of exemplifying the power of divine grace, to the praise *ad glory of the

ivcr. It had been, thedote, my frequent, . $ d y prayer, thqt 1 might not by impatience,

or despondence, be deprived of the advantage my situation aEorde4 me, of ccnfirmin by my own practice the doctrine which f had preached to others, and that I might not giw them occasion to apply to me, the words of Eliphaz to Job, ck iv. 4, 5, Thy words have upholden him that was falling, and tbou hast strengtheaed the feeble knees ; but

I501 APPENDIX.

now it is come cnto thee, and thou faintest ; it toucheth thee, and thou art troubled !" And I had not prayed in vain. But frod tke time, that I so remarkably felt myself willing to be helped, I mi ht truly say to the praise of the Lord, my eart trusted in Him, and I was helped indeed. Through the whole df my pqiaful irial, I attended all my stated and occasional, services, as usual ; and a stranger would scarcelg have discovered, either by my

words,or looks that I was in trouble. Many of our intimate friends were apprehensive, that this long affliction, and especially the closing event, would have overwhelmed me ; but it was far otherwise. It did not prevent me from preaching a single sermon, and I preached on the day of her death.

After she was gone, my willingness to be helped; and my desire that the Lord's goodness to me, might be observed by others, for their eficouragement, made me indifferent to some laws of established custom, the breach of which is often more noticed, than the violation of God's commands, I was afraid of sitting at home, and indulging myself, by poring over my loss ; and therefore I was seen in the street, and visited some of my serious friends, the very next day. I likewise preached three times, while she lay dead in the house. Some of my brethern, kindly aiEsred tlieir assis:ance ; but as the Lord w,l.ns

APPENDIX, , 153 - phased to give me strength, bath oi body and mind, I k h o w t $J%IY h t p ' to stand up , in my place, as feafinerly., And after she was deposited in &e ,irault, I pfeachd her funeral sermon," tpid little more sensible emotion, than if it had ben>for another person. I I have roas0n.m hcp,rhattmenp of my hemr ers, w&-e cgmforted, and &@tsd under their a&I&ti~c,~ by M a t the3 saw pf the Lord's g d n e s s to W , in my_timeof seed, Bhd 1 a~knowledge, that it was well worth standing p w&le ifi the fire, for such an opportunity of

experiencing, and exhibiting, the power a~ld faithfulness of his promises. . I was not supported by dyivdy, sensible consolations, but by being ~ a b k dto realize to my mind, some graat and Ieading truths of the word of God. I saw; what indeed, I knew before, bnt nwer till then so strongly and clearly perceived, that as a sinnet, I had no fight, and as a believer, I could have no reason, to complain. I considered her as a loan, which He who lent her to me, had a right to rbspme whenever h pleased ;and thatas I had deserved to fwfeit her every day,

from thec first ;it became me, rather to be

* From a text wbilh I had reaerved from my first entrance on the ministry, for tlik particular service, if I should survive her, apd be able to speak,

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154 APPENDIX.

thankful that she was spared to me so long, than to resign her with reluctance, when called for. Farther, that his sovereignty, was* connected with infin&e wisdom, and oodnessf

f; and consequently, if it were possib e for me ' to alter any part of his plan, I could only spoil it-that such a short sighted creature as I, so blind to the possible consequences of my wishes,was only unworthy,but unabletochoose well for myself; and that, it was therefore

my great mercy and privilege, that the Lord condescended to choose for me. May such considerations powerfulky affect the hearts of my readers under their troubles, and then, I shall not regret having submitted to the view

of the public, a detil which may seem more proper for the subject of a private letter to a \ friend. They who can feel for me, will, I hope, excuse me. And it is clliefly for their sakes, that I have written it.

When my wife died, the world seemed to die with her, (I hope, to revive no more.) I see little now, .bnt my ministry and my Christian profession, to make a continuance in life, for a single day, desirable ;though I am willing to wait my appointed time. If thc world cannot restore her to me (not that 1 have the remotest wish that her return was possible) it can do nothing for me. The Bank of England is too poor to compensate, for such a loss as mine. But the Lord, the

- *- --- .- -- * --- ---v- /

* i APPEl$l3IX. . 1 E5

ail sn%cient S;od, speaks, and it is done. Let those who know him, and trust him, be of good courage. He can give them strength according to their day ;h can increase their strength, as their trials are increased, to any assignable degree. And what He can, He ,has promised H e 421 do. , The power, and faithfulnms, on which the successive changes of day and night," and of the seasons of the year> depend, and which uphold the stars in their orbits, is equally engaged to support his people, and to lead them, safeIy and qnhurt,

(if their path be so appointed) thro4gh Aoods and flames. Though I believe she has never yet been (and probably never will be) out of my waking thoughts, for five minutes at a time ;though I sleep in the bed, in which she suffered, and languished so h n g ; Ithave not had one uncomfortable day, _nor one restless night, since she left me. I have lost a right hand, which I cannot but miss continually, but the Lord enables me to go on, cheerfully, without it.

May his blessing rest upon the reader ! May glory, honor, and praise be ascribed to his great and holy name, now and for ever ! Amen.

VERSES SUNG A F T E R H E R FUNERAL

SERMON.

HABAK. iii. 19, 1.8.

AIthoqb the &tree shall not blossom, neirkr sbalI fruit be in the vines ;the labor o j the olive shall fail, and the $eZds shall yield meat; the jZock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be m herd in the stall: yet I will zejoice in the Lordt i will jay in tke God of my salvation.

earth with rich abundance stor'd T o answer all our wants, THE Invites our hearts to praise the Lord,

For what his bounty grants. Flocks, herds, and corn, and grateful fruit,

His gracious hand supplies : And while our various tastes they suit,

Their prospect cheers our eyes. To these, he adds each tender tie

Of sweet domestic life ; Endearing joys, the names imply

Of parent, husband, wife ! But sin has poison'd all below,

Our blessings, burdens prove; On ev'ry hand we suffer woe,

But mat, where most we lo\@.

APIFEWDIX 157

Nor vintage, harvest, 'Rocksnor herd,

L 'Can fill the heart's desire ; And oft a worm 'destroys w r gourds,

And all our hepes expi&. Domestic joys, alas ! how rare !

Possess'd, and known by few ! And they w h knpw them, find they are . As frail, and tfahsient too. But you, who love the Saviour's voice

and rest upon bis.name ; Amidst these changes may rejoice

Por he is still the same. The Lord himself will soon appear,

Whom you, wnseen adore ; Then he will wipe off ev'ry tear,

And you shall weep no more.

1.is . APPENDIX.

A MEMORIAL,

OF T H E U H C H A ~ ~ ~ E ~ ~ B L E G O O D N E S S

O F GODt U N D E R C H A N G I N G

DISPENSATIONS.

WRITFEN FEB. 12, 1775. The twenty-jiih Anniversary of our Marriage.

THE LORD GAVE-

what this day recals to mind My praise to God is due ; F"" How many blessings he design7d

T o give, in giving you.

When h-tteful, hating and forlorn

In Afric's wilds I stray'd ; His hand secur'd my safe return,

But you, the mean, was made. HOWlittle then, codd be foreseen

My path in future life ! But he prepar7d each following scene,

By making you, my wife.

The happy day that join'd our hands

(Sweet prelude to his grace,) %ore firm in my remembrance, stapds

Th:m if engrav'd in brass.

APPENDIX. 1.59

3 But ah ! my heart, by sin begaY7d,

(How painful is the thought) Soon, of the gift, an Idol made,

The giver soon forgot 4 0 How justly, might some sudden turn

Have parted us again i And left my guilty soul to mourn

In agony and pain ! But though we both and chiefly I,

For good have render'd ill, His mercy hath been always nigh,

His hand preserves us still, :

With mutual love, and pe&e, and healtl~,

And friends, we have been blest ; And, if not what the world calls wealth,

We have enough possess'd.

From place to place, from year to year,

The Lord has been our guide ; Our sure resource in time of fear,

When all has fail'd beside.

Thus five and twenty years, the sun

Has tro& his annual path ; S, And we apace are posting on

To meet the stroke of death ! 6 Sure none a happier life have knom,

Than ours thus far, has been ; Blit could we covet, now 'tis gone,

T o live it o'er again ?

1 6 0 APPENDIX.

Like checker'd cloth, the warp with lqve

And comfort has been spread ; But cares and crosses interwove

Have furnish'd half the thread.

Yes ! even we, who so much joy,

So much endearment know, Have found that something will annoy,

And tarnish all below !

Yet ev'ry cross a mercy is,

A blessing ev'rx thorn ; That tells us, here is not our bliss,

We were for pobler born.

That I am hers, and she is mine,

f nvites my feeble lays ; But Saviour, that we both are thine,

Demmds my highest praise.

With thee, dear Lord, who rulest all,

The wise appointment lies, T o which of us the lot must fall,

T o close the other's eyes !

Then all our intercourse while here,

(How happy, and how kind !) - Will hke a fleeting dream appear,

Which leaves no trace behind.

Prepare us ev'ry day we live,

For that important hour ; And when at length it shall alrivc,

Support us by thy pow'r.

t n~&#w% 1 G

Farewel, it meant, last adieu ! I spon shall cease from pain ; This silent tear I dtop $or,you:,

We part-to maet again. I said, a If leayiog all below,

You now have peace d i v i ~ ; And wourd, but cajnnot tell me soa

Give me, at least a sign,"

She rais'd, and gently wav'd her hand,

And fill'd me with a 'oy, To which the wealth o 4sea and land

Compar'd, were but a toy.

S trust, indeed. she knew thy grace,

Before this trying day ; But-Satan had, a while aceess,

T o fill her with dismay. 'Till then, tho' two long years she pin'd

Without an hour of ease ; ,

Cheerful she still appear'd, rcsig~~'d,

And bore hcr cross, in peace. . Daily while able, closely too,

She read the word of God ; <4nd thence her hope and conirort drm-,

Her med'cine and her food. ,4 stranger mi ht havc well presurn'd,

From what ~e saw her bear : f This burning bush was not consum'd,

Because the LORD Was there.

164 APPENDIX.

Three davs she could no notice tzike,

1 Nor s&ak, nor hear, nor see ; 0 Lord ! did not my heart-strings ache ! Did not I cry to thee !

That while I watch'd her, night and day,

My will, to thine, might bow ? And by this rod, didst thou not say,

cc Behold your Idol now !

Cc From her you lov'd too much, proceed

Your sharpest grief and pains ; For soon or late, the heart must bleed

That Idols entertains."

Yes Lora we both have guilty been,

And justly are distress'd ; But since thou dost forgive our sm,

I welcome a11 the rest. Only uphold us in the fire, -

Our hinting spirits cheer J And I thy mercy will admire

When most thou,seemYst sever-.

Fainter her breath, and fainter grew,

Until she breath'd her last : The soul was gone, before we knew

The stroke of death was past.

Soft was the moment, and serene,

That all her suffcrings clos'd ; No agony, nor struggle ;em,

No h a r e discompos'd,

A P P ~ " ~ : 1Q1 ' Who first departs, may thy kind smile

Strengthen, with joy to go ; And the survivor reconcile

TOstay a while belpur.

d Then may,it semi of ljttk,wdghr,

Which of us goes befose ;- Assur'd thpt we hail shortly deet

To part again no mare.

Oh, with what wonder, joy, ~ n dpraise .

Our souls shall then review The snwes, and merciei of the wpys,

We were conducted through !

-rkr

WRITTEN QN DECEMBER 15, 1791.

.Ehe FirJt Anniversary of her Dismission j r o m

this State of Sin and Sorrow.

THE LORD H A T H T A K g N AWAY. BLESSED BE T H E N A M E OF & T H E LORD.

Blessed be God, even the rathrr af our Lord J c s u Cllmt, t!le Fz-

ther of Merc~es,and the Gud of all Comfort I M'hoco~nfort~tlius in all our tnbalat~ona, that we nidy be able to cornhjbt them

wluch ate rn any troublet by the comforts whclewlli we ourse:ves are comftoirrted of God.

> L

ORD ! she was thine, and not my own

Thou hast not done me wrong ; I thank thee for the precious l o a ~

AAorded me so long.

0 C

162 APPENDIX.

For though no single day has been,

Or talent, well improv'd ; I chiefly see, and mourn,-.my sih

In what I chiefly'lov'd. I trembled when thou saidst, Resign A much abused trust ;" But could not wonder or re+e ;

I own'd the sentence just.

Yet mercy sweeten'd my distress ;

And, while I felt the rod, Gave me abundant cause to bless

An all-sufficient God. t

Sharp was my pain, and deep my w o u d

(A wound which still must bleed) But daily help, and strength I found

Proportion'd to my need.

Like Jonah (well our stories suit) I view'd my gourd well pleds'd ; Like him, I could not see the root

On which the worm had seiz'd-

But saw, at length the hour draw nigh,

(That hour I since have known) When all my earthly joy must die,

And I be left alone.

She dropt a tear, and grasp'd my hand.

And fain she would have spoke ; But well my heart could understand

The language of her look.

__ - ,-- - ---- --.--m -.-.-"m_ _ / - I >

\ I APPENDIX. - 165

The parting struggle all was mine;

'Tis the Survivor dies," For she was freed, and gone to jdin

The triumph 03the skies. To me it was a stormy day,

Tho' glad for her releaw ; But he whom seas and storms obey,

Soon bid the tempest ceaseMy selfish heart had wish'd her hex,

To spend her days in pain : - That she, what I could sag, might hear,

And speak to me again. Our kindness tb our suff'ring friends

Would keep them still b d ~ w; But he who loves them htter, sends,

And at his call, they go.

Each moment, since that trying hour,

My loss I keenly feel ; "ut trust, I feel my Saviour's pow'r To.sanctify 2nd heal. Ail world ! Vain world ! by whom my Lord

Was crucify'd and slain ; What comfort now, canst thou afford

To mitigate my pain ?

Long since, I should, by his dear Cross,

Wave learnt to die to thee ; But if I learn it bp my kss, *

That loss my gain will be.

l G6 APPENDIX.

Now Lord, to thee I would apply,

On thee alone depend ; Thou art, when creatures fail and die,

An ever-living friend !

Now thou hast made a void, within,

Which only thou canst fill ; Oh ! grant me pardon of my sin,

And grace to do thy will. That I with joy thy flock may feed,

A pattern to them be, And comfort them in time of need.

Vohchsafe to comforr me. *

Let me believe, and love and praise,

And wonder and adore, And view the guiding all my ways ; I ask for nothing more.

,To thee I would commit the reqt :

The when, the how, the where, "I'lny wisdom will determin? best,

Without my anxious care.

May I, with faith and patience wait,

For soon thy call will come ; When I shall change this mortal state

For an Eternal home.

The veils of sin and unbelief

Shall them be rent in twain ; And they, who pzrted here with grief,

Shall meet with ioy a.?;ain.

&l1 the Lord himself ap

ear, . pp, T o wipe from ev'rp face, the tear,

Then

With all his blood-bought

And they no more shall weep. M a p thoughts, like these relieve my toil,

And cheer my spirit up! Who would not suffer here a while,

For such a glorious hope ;

SLCOMD ANNIVERSARY O F THE FIFTEENTH

DECEMBER, 1790.

W H I L E grace her balm, to sooth rnj-p i u

And heal my wound, applies ; -To make it throh,and bleed again.

OAicious mem7ry tries. Too well she kn&s each te~depstring

That twines about my heart ; And how to fix a Piercing~sting

In the most feeling part ! May I not yet some respite take

From dwelling on her death ? Did I not feel her l~esrt-strings break,

And watch her last $drawnbreath ? Oh ! cease, at length to haunt my mind

With images of grief; Canst thou n6 pleasing topics find

'Fa yield me some relief ? But as a sie-c-ethe bran retains,

And let the flour. Fall tliro',

168 APPENDIX. . * So careful mem'ry keeps my pains,

And loss, in constant view ; While comforts, cauntless as the sands

Which crown my hvor'd lot, Tho' each, my warmest praise demands,

Are heedlessly forgot. And can I then for et the times,

When helpless, fopeless lost, I pin'd in miseries and crimes,

On Africa's horrid coast ? To Christ my Lord, a daring foe,

To men, a wretched slave ; Yet, on that brink of endless woe

He shew'd his pow'r to save. His mercy, tho7 by me unsought,

Kept me from falling in ; His arm my full deliv'rance wrought,

His grace forgave my sin. H e taught my base blaspheming tongue

To aim at pray'r and praise ; Became my shield, and strength, and song

And guided all my ways. Thus freed from misery and death,

My sorrow chang'd to joy ; He sent me forth to preach the faith I labor'd to destroy. His mercies thro' my future life

Were new from day to day ; The chief of all, was that dear wife

He since has call'd away.

APPENDIX. 169 ,

Shall one so favor'd e'er repine

Or one so vile complain Z No-let me praise-she long was mine . And shall be mine again. If death could break our union past

(Frail, tho' endear'd the tie) The stronger band of grace shall last,

When death itself shall die !

' S - A; or, Grace in the Blade. Mark iv: $8.

Dear Sir, A

CCORDING your desire, I sit down to give you my general views of a progressive work dgrace, in the several stages of 'a beIicver's experience ; which I skall mark by the diment characters A, B. C. answerable to tbe dfstinction our Lord teaches us to observe from the growth of the corn, Mark iv. 28. First the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear." The cord leads all his people effectually and savingly to the knowledge of the same essential truths, but in such a variety of methods, that it will be needful in this,disquisition, to set aside, qs much as possiblep stfch things as may be only personal and occasional in the experience of each, and to collect those only which in a greater or less degree are common to them all. I shall not therefore give you a copy of my own experience, or of that of any individual ;but shall endeavor, as clearly as I can, to state what the sc~ipture teaches us concerning the nature and essentials of a work of grace, so far as it will bectr a genera application to all those who are the subjects of gracious operations.

By nature we are all dead in trespasses and sins, not only strangers to God, but in a

j S? g APPENDIX;

state of enmity and opposition to his government and grace. In this respect, whatever difference there may be in the chqracters of men as members of society, they are all, whether wise or ignorant,whether soberor profane, equally incapable of receiving or approving divine truths, 1 Cor. ii. 14. On this ground our Lord declares, No man can " come unto me, except the father who has sent me,draws him." Though the term Father most frequently expresses a known and important distinction in the adorable Trinity, I apprehend our Lord sometimes uses it to denote God, or the Divine Nature, in contradistinction from his humanity, as in John xiv. 9. And this l take to be the sense here : No man can come unto me unless he

U is taught of God," and wrought upon by a divine power. The immediate exertion of this power, accordicg to the economy of

salvation, is rather ascribed to the Holy Spirit than to the Father, John xvi. 8-11, but it is the power of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ : and therefore severally attributed to the Father, Son, and Spirit, John b. 21. and cl,. vi. 44,.63 ; "i' Cor. iii. 18; 2 Thess, iii. 5.

By A, I would bnderstand a person who is ander the drawings of God, which will infallibly lead him to the Lord Jesus Christ for life and snlvation. The beginniilg of thic

-v -7 - --II

APPEN~HX

work is .inst;an&meoup It. is effected bp a certain kind cuF light carnmw$catd to the soul, to which it was before an utter stianger. The eyes of the understanding are opened and e&ghtened. %The light at first afforded is weak and i$istinct, like the morning dawn; but when it 1s once begun, it will certainly increase and spread to the perfect day. We commonly speak as if.conytction of sin was the firqt work of God ~ p o n the soul that he is in mercy aboqt to draw unto himself. Rut I think this is inaccurate. Conviction is only a part, or rather an immediate effect of that first work ; and there are many convictions which do not at all spring from it, and therefye are only orcasional and temporay, though for a season they may be very sharp, and put a person upon doing many things. In order to a due conviction of sin, we must previously have some adequate conceptions of the God with whom we have to do. Sin may be feared as dangerous without this ; but its nature and demerit can only be understood by being contrasted with the holiness, majesty, goodness, and truth, of the God aga:nst whom it is committed. No outward means, no mercies, judgments, or mdinances, can communicate such a discovery of God or produce such a conviction of sin, without the concurrence of this divine light and power to the soul. The natural conscience and

Q 3

,- S W

1( i74 -' \ APPENDIX;

and r 1ssioils may be indeed so far wrough~ upon by outward means, as to stir up SbmC desires and endeavors : but if these are not founded in a spiritual apprehension of the perfections of God, accordiqe; to the revelation he has made of himself m his word, they will sooner or later come to nothing ; and the person affected will either return by degrees to his former ways, 2 Peter ii. 20; or he will sink into a self-rikhteous form of godliness, destitute of the power, Luke xviii. 11. And therefore as there are so many things in the dispensation of the'gospel, suited to work upon the natural 'passions of men, the many woful miscarriages and apostacies among3 professors are more to be lamented &an wondered at. For though the seed may seem to spring up, and loot green for a season, if there be no depth for it to take root, it will surely wither away. We may be unable to judgewith cettainty upon the first appearance of a .religious profession, whether the work be

thus deep and spiritual or not; but '' the

U Lord knows them that are his ;"and wherever it is real it is an infxllible token of salvation. Now as God only thus reveals himself by the medium of scripture truth, the light ~eceivedthis way leads the soul to the scripture from whence it springs, and all the leading truths of the word of God soon begin to be perceived and assented to. The evil of

APPENDIX. 175

sin is acknowledged, the exit of the hear:

is felt. There may be ,for a whiIe some efforts to obtain the 'favor of God by prayer, repentance and reformation; but for the most part it is not very long before these things are proved to be vain and ineffectual. The soul, like the woman mentioned, Mark v. 26. wearied ~ 5 t hvain expedients, finds itself worse and worse, and is gradually brought to see the necessity and sufficiencyof the go2pel silvation. A, map socm be a: belkever thus fa; : That he believes the word of God, sees and feels things to be as they are there described, hates and avoids sin, because he knows it is displeasing to God, and con rdry to his goodness ; he receives the recor d which God has

iven of his Son ;has his heart affected and %awn to Jestis by views of his glory, and of his love to poor sinners ;ventures upon his -name and promises as his only encouragement

to come to a throne of grace ; waits diligent-

ly in the use of all means appointed for the communion and growth of grace ;loves the Lord's people, accounts them the excellent of the earth, and delights in their conversa-

tion. He is longing, waiting, and praying, for a share in those blessings which he believes they enjoy, and can be satisfied with nothing less. He is convinced of the power of Jesus to save him ;but through remaining ignorance

and legality, the remrmbranre of sin corn-

276 - APPENDIX.

mitted, and the sense of present corruption, he often questions his willingness; and, not knowing the aboundings of grace, and the security of the promises, he fears lest the compassionate Saviour should spurn him frow his feet.

While he is thus young in the knowledge of the gospel, burdened with sin, and perhaps beset with Satax's temptations, the

Lord, who gathers the lambs in his arms,

G and carries them in his bosom," is pleased at: times to favor him with cordials, that hc may not be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow. Perhap~ his heart is enlarged in prayer, .or under hekring, or some good promise is bronght .home to his mind, and applied with powcr and sweetness. H e mistakes the nature and design of these comforts, which are not given him to rest in, hut to encouragehim to press forward. Ile t h k s he is then right because he has them, and fondly hopes to have them alwrlys. Then his mouneain

stards strong. But ere long he feels a change: his comforts are withdrawn ; he finds no heart to pray ; no attention in hearing ; in-

dwelling sin revives with freh strength, and perl~aps Satan returns with redoubled r q e , Then he is at his wits end ; thinks his hopes were presumptuous, and his comforts delnsions. He wants to feel something that may give him a warrant to trust in the free promises

' , APPENDIX. 1:';

of Chria, His vievs of the Redeemer's gracefulness are very narrow; he sees not the harmony and lory of the divine attributes in%he salvation o C:a Sinner ;he sighs for mercy, but fears that justice is against l$m. However, by these changing dispensations the Lord is training him up, and bringing him farward. He' eeeives grace from Jesus, , whereby he is enabled to fight against sin ; his r6nscience is tender, his troubIes are chiefly spjritual troubles ; and he thiriks, if he could but attain a sure and abiding sense of his acceptance in the beloved, bardly any cutward trial would be capable of giving him much disturbance. Indeed notwithstanding the weakness of .his faith, and the prevalence of a legal spirit, which greatly hurts him, there rare some things in his present experience which he'map gerhaps look u p w with re et hereafter, when his hope and knowl e g e will be more established. Particularly that sensibility and keenness of appetite with which he now attends the ordinnnces, desiring the sincere milk af the word with earncstness and eagerheso, as a babe does the breast. H e counts the hours from one opportunity to another; and the attention and desire with which he hears may be read in his countenance. His zeal is likewise lively, and may he, for want of experience, too importunate and forwa~d. He ha4 a l a ~ efor souls, and n

178 . APPENDIX.

concern f o h t h e glory of God ; whi~il, though it may at sometimes create him trouble, and at others be mixed with some undue motions of self, and yet in irs principle is highly desirable and commendable; John,

xviii 10.

The grace of God infi~ences both the understandi:>g and the affections. Warm &ec- " tions, without kncwledge, can rise no higher than supeistidon ;and that knowledge which does not influence the heart and affectiohs, will only make a hypocrite. The true believer is rewarded in both respect? ; yet we may observe, that though A, is not t v ~ t h u t knowledge, this state is more usually remarkable for the warmth and liveliness of the affections. On the other hand, as the work advances, though the affi-ctions are not left out, yet it seems to be carried on principally in the understanding. The old christians has more solid, judicrous, connected views of the Lord .Jesus Christ, and the glories of his person and rcdeaming love, hence his hope is rmre e\tablishcd, hi5 dependence more simple, and 1: :Y peace and strength, c~ttrisparibus, more abiding and uniform, than in the case of a ycung convert, but the latter has for the most par', the advantage in point of sensible fervency. h tree is most valuable when laden with ripe fruit, but it l~asa pecdiar beauty

~3.el: in blossom. It is spring time witEl A;

he $ in bloom, and, by the grace and blessing of the-heavenly husbandman, will bear fruit in old age. His faith is weak, but his heart is warm. % will seldom venture to think _ himself a believer ; but he sees and feels, and

does those things which no one could unless the Lord was with him. The very desire and bent of his soul is to God, and to the word'of his'grace, , His knowledge is but small, but it is growing every day. If he is . not s fdber or young man ip grace, he is a dear child. The Lord has visited his heart, delivered him from the love of sin, and fixed his eyes supremely up% Jesus Christ. The spirit of bondage is gradually departing from him, and the hour of liberty, which he longs for, is approaching, when, by a farther discovery-of the glorious gospel, it shall be given him to know his acceptance, and to rest up* on the Lord's finished salvation. We shall then take netice of him $y the name of B, in a second letter, if you are not unwilling X should prosecute the subject.-I am*&c4

=..

180 APPENDEX.

)3 ; or, Grace in the Ear. Mart, iv. 4s.

Dear Sir, T

HE manner of the Lords work in the

hearts of his people is not easily traced, though the fact is certain, and the evidence

demonstrable, from Scripture. In attempt- - ing to explain it, we can only speak in general and are at a loss to form such a description as shall take in the immense variety of cases which occur in the experience of believers. I have already attempted s u ~ h a general delineation of a young convert, under the character of A, and am now to speak of hi& by the name of B. . This state I suppose to commence, when the soul, after an interchange of hopes and - fears, according to the different frames it passes through, is brought to rest in Jesus, by a spiritual apprehension of his cvmplete suitableness and sufficiency, as the wlsdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption of all who tmst in him, and is enabled by an appropriating faith to say, He is mine, and I am CC his." There are various degrees of this persuasion : it is of a growing nature, and is capable of' increase so long as we remain in this world. I call it assurance, when it arises from a simple view of the grace and glory of the S aviour, independent of our frames and

&=X, X81 4

fkeifnf04srr as ttt WMe s-s U51%- ab o b .firom U&$@.€ adiC hZiri; eith the apostle's words, %VhoB -Ire &at condemnH eth ? It is Christ that did, yaktather, that

is r i m again, who i~ evea at eheright hand

(6 of God, who algo ntaketh itstercession $or

US' R*. viik M. Thib, irr my judgment, does aaihim to the esseace of faitb, so that B should Pre tmed &W truly a beWePthan A, But to estabtishmeptof faith. A d BOWfaithis stron@r, it has to - pk with. E think the chwcttrist& oP the state of A is &s1rc, and of B is conflct. \Hot that B%&sites have subsided, m A was a stranget to-confict ;but as there was a sensible eagerness and keenness in A's desires, ~ h i c hperhaps is seldom known to be equally

strong ofcemards 3. $0$ere afe nsi)a@ftri& and ex&dises $6 B's e%p$rie~c~, s~pething dffferent htheir rihd, and sharper 1s thetr measure, than wbat A was exposed t@or ind&d had strength to endure. A, like Israel, has been delivered from Egy t by great power and a stttftched out arm, 1as been pursued and terrified by many enemies, has given Kimselg up fpf lost again and qain. He has at last seen his enemies destroyed, and has sung the son of Moses and the Lamb'rtpois tk banks of the Red-Sea. Then he cc&%- metes B. Perhaps, like Israel, he t& his Gifl"icu1ties are at an end, and expects to

& '

o on rejoicing till he enters the promised fand. But, alas ! his difficulties are in a manner but beginning ;he has a wilderness before him, of which he is not aware. The Lord is now about:to suit his dispensations to humble 2nd to prove him, and to shew him what is in his heart, that he may do him good at rhe latter end, and that a11 the glory may re-

dound to his own free grace.

Since the Lord hates and abhors sin, and teaches his peopk whom he loves to hate it likewise, itmightseemdesirable, (andall things are equally easy to him) that at the same time they aredelivered from guiltand reigning power of sin, they should likewise be perfectly freed from the defilement bf indwelling sin, aud be made fully conformable to hifq at Qnc& His wisdom has, however, appointed otherwise.

But from the above promise, of his hatred of sin, and his love to his people, E think we may certainly conclude, that he would not sdffer sin to remain in them, if he did not purpose to over rule it, for the fuller manifestation of the glory of his grace and wisdom, a ~ dfor the making his salvation more precious to theit souls. It is however, his command, and therefore their duty ; yea, fart5er, from the new nature he has given them, ir is tl-cir desire, to watch and strive - a ainst sin ; and to propose the mortification oB the whole body of sin, and the advance-

-*-_-. -- --1.- .- 1 -- 7 . __C_q_/

hFP~@rn-. 183,

mnt d sa&ca& in tM&dsr'~ms their &at 'andconstcintT a i i n , to whi& are to Pave an habitual peoei-in 'kegatd. TJpoa this plaa B sets out. The fnodkdged our accctptaace with God, and of our everlasting security in Christ, has in it& the same tendency U on ear& 'ap;it WtiM:have in heaven, and inpmpmion to\the degree of evidence aad deame.9s, produce the same dects, of sontinual Iove, "j~y,peace, gratitude, and ' praise, Ifthere was nothing "to counteract it. BM B is naf 411 spirit. -*hdepraved'nature till cIeavesk to him, and he has the seeds af every natural comptiofi yet remaining in his hearti He lives likewise in a world that is full of snares, and occasions suited to draw forth those corruptions ;and he is sursouhded by i~oi'sWe,sgirirualenemies, the extent of whose pwwand ty heis yet to learnby painful experience. B, knows, -in general, the nature of his chsisrian warfare, knd sees his' right to live upon Jesits hrighteousness and sCreng&. He ie fiot unwilliig to indure hardships ,as a gadd suldiir af Jesus Christ ; &nd believes, thatthough he mtiy be sore thrust at that He may fall, the Lord will be his stay. He knows, that his heart is cc deceitful and desperately wicked ;" but h9does not,'&* carnot know at fir& the full meaning of that expssiofi. Yet it is for the Lord's $Q& and will in the and make his grace and laqe

164 APPEWWX,

a ail1 more precious, that B should find new and mortifying proofs of an evil nature as he.

oes on, such as he could not have once befeved had they been foretold him, as in thr case of Peter, Mark xiv. 29. And,in egecect, the abominations of the h a r t do not appear k their fdlstrength and aggravation, but htk case of one, who, like B, has tasted thar tfie 4ord is gracious, and rejoiced in his 6on. The exceedin sinfulness of sin is mzniferted, not so mucl by its breaking through the restraints of thrq~trnings and command&, as by its being ~apaueof acting; a'lzrst ligk and against love. Thus it was W% Hezeki ah. He had Been a fzithful and zealous servant of the W d f o r many yew; but X suppose he knew more of Ood, and. d himself, in the time & his sickness, thza he had ever done before. The Lord, who had s i p . d y defended him from Senacheda, wan gIeasedlikewAketo raise himfrom tbe bordem

gf the grave by a miracle, poiongd Jle time of his lie in answer to gray.er. i t isOl&, from the son which he pen& v p ~q Kis recovery, that k,e was greatly affected,

with the mercies he had received ; yet still there was something in his heart whick he knew not, and which it was for the Lord's

lory he shou?d be made sensible of; an& &refore he war plearndto leave him to h i

&£ It is the on1 instance in whioh he is mid to have been leIt to Emself, and the only

7E A~+EN&.~. 185

instance 3n \ntbkh his.:condact Ss cmdemned.

I appreknd, that "in statP,of'Bp '&at is, f o ~a reason after we have khafvq;the Lhrd, we Save usually tk;e inost 5ens;ibe acid distressing experience of our evir niturk3. 1 do not say, that it is necessary thg W& sho~l'dbe'lefi to fall into gross outward s!n, in order to know what is in our hearts ; th~ughI believe many have thus fallen, whose hearts, under a former sense df, redeemin l&@,Ewe been as auly set against sin ;as & heart* oF ,others who have been preservM fiom.such outyard

falls. The Eord mskes &me of his chiidfen examples and warnings tcf others, as he pieas-

es. They who are spared, aBd whose worst deviations tire only' known to the Lord aad to themselves, have great reason to be thankful. I am sure 1 have : &e nierci%P Lord has not suff~ped~e to makeany coW&able blot in my ptofession durine the time I have" been numbered amqngst his people. But I have nothing to boast of herein. It has not been o&g to my wisdoni, watchfulnkss, or spirituality, tho~gh'ii~ the main he has not fiffered me t~ Ihe In;t%e neglect of kis appointed means. But f hope to go softly all my days under the remembramee of-many things; for which I have as great a cause to be abased before him, as if I h-ad not been left to S h grievously in the sight d men. Yet with fa; pect to my acceptance in the beloved, I trim

Q 2

not if I have had a douFt of a quarter of an hour's conf nuance for many years past. But,

Oh ! the multiplied instances of stupidity, ingratitude, impatience, and rebellion, to which my conscience has been witness! And as every heart knows its own hjtterness I have generally heard %he like complaints from others of the Lord's people with whom I have -conversed, even from those who have a peared to be eminently gracisus and spirituaf B does not meet with these things perhaps at first, nor every day. The Lord appoints occasions and turns in life, which try our spirits. There arc particular seasons when temptations are suited to our frames, tempers and situations ;and there are times when he is pleased to withdraw, 8nd to ermit Satan's approach, tha; we may fed Row vile we are in ourselves We are prone ta spiritual pude, to self dependence, to vain confidence, to creature attachments, and a train of evils. The Lord often discovers to us orie sinful disposition by,ezposing us to another. He sometimes shows what he can do for us and in us ;and at other times how little we can do, and how unable we are to

stand without him. By a variety of these exerdses, throu h the over-ruling and edilying influences o f the Holy Spirit, B is trained up

in a growing knowledge of himself and of the Zosd. H e learns to be mare distrustful 6

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