Henry Venn and His Ministry — Chapter III

His Preaching Analysed—His Literary Remains examined—Extraordinary Power as a Letter-writer—Soundness of Judgment about Doctrine—Wisdom and Good Sense about Duties—Prudent Management of his Children—Unworldliness and Cheerfulness—Catholicity and Kindliness of Spirit—Testimony of Cowper, Simeon, and Sir James Stephen.

IT is no easy matter, in the latter part of the nineteenth century, to form a correct estimate of Henry Venn’s gifts and character. In fact, the materials for forming it are singularly scanty. He was peculiarly a man of one thing, absorbed in the direct work of his calling, always about his Master’s business, and regardless of the verdict of posterity. He spent the greater part of his life in Yorkshire and Bedfordshire, in days when the public press was in its infancy, and there was but little communication between county and county. The only trustworthy biography of the man is a short account begun by his son, but not completed, and finished by a grandson who never saw him. As a specimen of biography, Venn’s “Life” is beyond all praise; but still it is the work of a loving relative, and not of a bystander. Under these circumstances I feel unusual difficulty in handling the subject of this chapter. I cannot help thinking that the famous Vicar of Huddersfield was a man who is scarcely understood by the present generation. However, I must throw myself on the indulgence of my readers, and do the best I can.

There are two things which I propose to do in this chapter, I will first give some account of my hero, as a preacher, a writer, and a correspondent. JI will then point out certain prominent features in his character, which appear to me of such rare beauty and excellence that they deserve the special notice of Christians.

As a preacher, I venture to think we know next to nothing of what Venn was. His sermons still extant, consisting of fourteen preached at Clapham, before he removed to Huddersfield, and eight single discourses preached on various special occasions between 1758 and 1785, most certainly fail to give us any idea of his pulpit powers. Perhaps the best of them are his tuneral sermons for Grimshaw and Whitefield. In doctrine they are all, no doubt, sound, scriptural, and evangelical. But it is useless to deny that, at this day, they seem, as you read them, rather tame and commonplace. There is nothing striking, brilliant, or powerful about them. There is nothing that appears likely to lay hold of men’s minds, to arrest or to keep up attention. In short, you find it hard to believe that the man who preached these sermons could ever have been considered a great preacher.

Yet it is clear as daylight that Henry Venn was a great preacher. The extraordinary effects that his sermons produced at Huddersfield—his undeniable popularity with congregations accustomed to hear such mighty orators as Whitefield—the high opinion entertained of his powers by Lady Huntingdon and other good judges—all these are facts that cannot possibly be explained away. The Vicar of Huddersfield may not have possessed the glowing eloquence of Rowlands or Whitefield. But for all that he must evidently have been a man of great pulpit powers.

The truth of the matter, I suspect, is simply this. Venn’s sermons were precisely of that sort which are excellent to hear, but not excellent to read. Listened to, they are clear, satisfying, interesting, and instructive. Written down, they seem poor, and ungrammatical, and diffuse, and commonplace. Whether men will believe it or not, it is a fact that English for hearing, and English for reading, are almost two different languages, and that speeches and sermons which sound admirable when you listen to them, seem curiously flat and lifeless when you sit down to read them in cold blood. Of all the illustrations of this principle in rhetoric, I venture the conjecture that there seldom was a more remarkable one than Venn. To read his sermons over, there seems no more life or fire in them than there is in an empty stove in July. And yet the Vicar of Huddersfield, by the universal testimony of all his contemporaries, was a mighty preacher.

Let us add to all this that Venn’s action and delivery, by all accounts, were singularly lively and forcible. The witness of his hearers at Huddersfield, on this point, was unanimous. His face, his voice, his hands, his eyes, his whole manner in preaching, arrested attention, and clothed all that he said with power. Who can deny the immense effect of good delivery?) The ancients went so far as to call it the first, second, and third qualification of a good orator. Who can fail to see, from the traditional account, already quoted, that Venn had a peculiar gift of delivery? The sermons of a man who “looked as if he would jump out of the pulpit,’ may contain nothing that is original or remarkable, but they are just the sermons that often turn the world upside down. Printed sermons can show us a preachers matter, but they cannot show us his manner as delivered. Second-rate matter, if only well delivered, will never fail to beat first-rate matter badly delivered, as long as the world stands.

After all, we must never forget that we know nothing of the nature of Venn’s sermons in the days of his greatest power. They were extempore sermons, or sermons preached from notes; and that fact alone speaks volumes. Not one of these sermons, I believe, was taken down shorthand, as most of Whitefield’s were, and the consequence is that we have not an idea what they were like. But every intelligent hearer of the present day knows well that a man may be a most powerful extempore preacher, who is a very dull and uninteresting writer. There are scores of men whom it is very pleasant to hear, but very wearying to read. Perhaps if we possessed good shorthand reports of some of Venn’s best Huddersfield sermons, we should see at a glance the secrets of his popularity as a preacher. As matters stand, I must frankly confess it is a subject which is now wrapped in some obscurity. I have done my best to throw some conjectural light upon it, and must leave it here. I only wish to remind my readers, in passing on, that there are few things so little understood in the world as the true causes of pulpit power.

As a writer, Venn’s reputation rests almost entirely on two works, which are pretty well known,—‘‘ The Complete Duty of Man,” and “ Mistakes in Religion.” The first of them is a “System of doctrinal and practical Christianity,” and was intended to supply something better than that mischievous and defective volume, the ‘‘ Whole Duty of Man.” The second of them is a collection of essays on the prophecy of Zacharias (the father of John Baptist), in which the erroneousness of many common views of religion is faithfully and scripturally exposed. Besides these, Venn published two or three smaller pamphlets, which are but little known.

The two works above-named were undoubtedly very useful in their day, and are still to be found on the shelves of most collectors of religious literature. They are sound, scriptural, and evangelical. But I strongly suspect that they stick to the shelves on which they stand, and are books which most people know better by name than by reading. ‘The plain truth is, that every age has its own peculiar style of writing. Popular as the “¢ Spectator,” and “ Tatler,” and “‘ Rambler,” were in their times, it may well be doubted whether they would be much read if published now. Even the pens of Addison, Johnson, and Steele, would not command success. The same remark applies to the sound and scriptural writings of Henry Venn. They did good service in their day, when men loved a somewhat stiff and classical style, and would have turned with disdain from any other sort of English composition as unworthy of an educated person. But like the jawbone of an ass, which Samson once used so effectively, they are now laid aside. Their work is done. Like the famous long-bows which our forefathers used at Cressy and Agincourt, we still view them with respect, and are proud of the victories which they won. But we do not use them ourselves. Rifled artillery and breechloaders have superseded them. ‘The fashion of our weapons is changed.

After all, a close examination of Venn’s two volumes will soon show an intelligent reader why they are no longer popular. The composition is of that stately and somewhat high-flown style which was thought the standard of excellence in the last century. The sentences are often very long, and

somewhat involved. The words are frequently of Latin or (195) 19 French origin. There is a curious absence of that rich fund of ready, happy illustration, which Whitefield and Rowlands had at their finger ends. The appeals to the imagination are few, and come in stiffly and awkwardly when they do come, like men dressed in new or borrowed clothes. In short, the style of the books is neither Saxon, nor sparkling, nor racy, nor pithy, nor anecdotal, nor pictorial. We must not wonder that they are no longer popular. Let us thank God for them. They were read in their day and generation by hundreds, who would probably have read no other evangelical literature. They may still do good to good men, and be liked by those who are really hungering for spiritual food. But we must not insist on everybody admiring them, or call people graceless and ungodly because they do not take pleasure in reading them. We must not count it a strange thing if many call them heavy, and dry, and cold.

As a correspondent and letter-writer, Henry Venn deserves the highest admiration. Nothing gives me such a high idea of his mental and spiritual stature, as the collection of letters which accompanies his biography. I never wonder at his reputation when I read these letters. I consider them above all praise, and commend them to the special attention of all who want to form a just estimate of the seventh great evangelist of England a hundred years ago. The true measure of the Vicar of Huddersfield and Yelling is to be found in his letters much more than his books or printed sermons.

Letter-writing, we must never forget, was a much more important business in the last century than it is at the present day. The daily newspaper was a very different affair from what it is now. Periodicals and cheap publications had a very limited circulation. The result was, that letters became most powerful instruments either for good or evil. Men of the world, like Lord Hervey, Lord Chesterfield, or Horace Walpole, were not ashamed to throw their whole minds into their correspondence.

Religious men entered so fully into doctrinal, practical, and experimental questions with their correspondents, that their letters were almost as useful as their sermons. John Newton’s wellknown volume of letters, called “‘ Cardiphonia,” has perhaps clone as much good to Christ’s cause as anything that ever came from his pen. In days lke those, it is no mean praise to say that Henry Venn was second to none as a letter-writer. Compare the letters that he wrote after settling down in Huntingdonshire, with the very best that Newton published, and I venture to say boldly that no impartial judge would hesitate to pronounce that the epistolary mine at Yelling yielded quite as rich metal as that at Olney.

It is curious, indeed, to observe how free Venn’s letters are, comparatively, from the faults which impair the usefulness of his books and printed sermons. There is a striking absence of that stiff and laboured mode of expression to which I have already adverted. He writes easily, naturally, and pleasantly, and makes you feel that you would like to hear again from such a correspondent. Like the letters of Mrs. Savage (Matthew Henry’s sister), you cannot help regretting that the editor made so small and limited a selection from the stock he had in hand. You close the volume with the impression that you would have liked it better if it had been twice as long. For my own part, I confess to a strong suspicion that we have in Venn’s published correspondence the real key of Venn’s popularity as a preacher. I suspect that his extempore sermons must have closely resembled his letters. I give it. of course, as my own private conjecture, and nothing more. All I say is, that if the vicar of Huddersfield preached in his pulpit in the same clear, pithy, and direct fashion that he wrote to his friends, I do not wonder that he was a preacher of mighty power. Once more, I advise those who want to know the secret of Venn’s reputation to study his letters.

It only remains for me now to point out what seem to me to have been the prominent features in Henry Venn’s character. I approach this subject with much diffidence. I have no other means of forming an opinion than a close examination of my hero’s life and letters. I am very sensible that I may err in my judgment, and may say too much of some points and too little of others. But after dwelling so much on this good man’s life and ministry, I cannot help inviting the attention of my readers to some characteristics which appear to me to stand out with peculiar brightness, as we look at him from a distance.

1. The first excellency that I notice in Venn’s character is the soundness of his judgment on difficult and disputable points in theology. He lived in a day when the controversy between Calvinism and Arminianism was at its height, and when violent and exaggerated statements were continually made on both sides. In a day like this, he seems to me to have been singularly happy in observing the proportion of truth in doctrine. I can put my finger on no leading minister of last century whose views of the gospel appear to have been so truly scriptural and well balanced. Of course he was alternately claimed as an ally, or abused as an enemy, by extreme partisans on both sides. But I can find no man of that era who seems to have understood so thoroughly the relative value of every part and portion of evangelical Christianity.

Let us hear what he says about Calvinism: “ As to Calvinism, you know I am moderate. Those who exalt the Lord Jesus as all their salvation, and abase man, I rejoice in. I would not have them advance further till they see more of the plan of sovereign grace, so connected with what is indisputable, that they cannot refuse their assent. Difficulties, distressing difficulties, are on every side, whether we receive that scheme orno. We must be as little children; we must be daily exercising ourselves in humble love and prayer; we must be looking up to our Saviour for the Holy Ghost. And after this has been our employment for many years, we shall find how much truth there is in that divine assertion, ‘If any man think that he knoweth anything yet as he ought to know, that man knoweth nothing.’ I used to please myself with the imagination, fifteen years ago, that by prayer for the Holy Ghost, and reading diligently the lively oracles, I should be able to understand all Scripture, and to give it all one clear and consistent meaning. That itis perfectly consistent Iam very sure; but it is not so to any mortal’s apprehension here. We are so proud, that we must have something to humble us; and this is one means to that end.”—(15¢4 feb. 1772.)

Let us hear what he says about assurance: “I believe that the knowledge of our acceptance with God is to be constantly urged as one of the greatest motives to lead a strict life, and to abstain from all appearance of evil, seeing the Holy Ghost, whose testimony alone can satisfy the conscience, will never dwell with the slothful or lukewarm, much less with presumptuous offenders. Scripturally to state, and firmly to maintain by sound argument, the knowledge of salvation, is, I believe, a most useful way of preaching—guarding against hypocrites, who will sometimes speak great swelling words about these matters, though themselves the servants of corruption, and conscious of the lie they tell in speaking of their joy in the Lord. I judge that one great reason of the worldliness prevailing amongst orthodox Dissenters is their teachers not pressing this point; and that, amidst very much error, one great cause of Mr. Wesley’s success, some years ago, was his urging Christilans not to rest without joy in God from receiving the atonement.”—(1775.)

Let us hear what he says about holiness: ‘‘ True holiness is quite of another character than we, for a long time, in any degree conceive. It is not serving God without defect, but with deep self-abasement, with astonishment at his infinite condescension and love to sinners, to ungodly enemies, and to men who in their lost estate are exceedingly vile. It is pleasing to consider how we are all led into this point, however we may differ in others; and were it not for the demon of controversy, and a hurry of employment which leaves no time for self-knowledge or devout meditation on the oracles of God, I am persuaded we should very soon be so grounded on this matter, that bystanders would no longer reproach us for our divisions.” —(1776.)

Let us hear what he says about weak faith: “ Weak faith seeks salvation only in Christ, and yields subjection to him, and brings the soul to his feet, though without assurance of being as yet saved by him. There is not one duty a weak believer slights. Weak faith is attended with sorrow and humiliation; as in his case he said with tears, ‘Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.’ It produces new desires and affections, new principles and purposes, and a new practice, though not in such strength and vigour as is found in old established believers. Ask the weakest and most disconsolate believer, whether he would forsake and give up his hope in Christ; and he will eagerly reply, ‘ Not for the whole world!’ There is, therefore, no reason why weak believers should conclude against themselves; for weak faith unites as really with Christ as strong faith, just as the least bud in the vine draws sap and life from the root no less than the strongest branch. Weak believers, therefore, have abundant cause to be thankful; and while they reach after growth in grace, ought not to overlook what they have already received.” —(1784.)

Hear, lastly, what he says about indwelling sin :—‘“ I sympathize with you in your troubles from the corruption of nature. I feel myself harassed with hardness of heart and coldness of affection toward God and man, and by slightly performing secret duties, when I know so well that God is ‘a rewarder (only) of those who diligently seek him.’ How totally does the estimate I made of myself thirty-five years ago differ from what I know now to be my real condition! I then confidently expected to be holy very soon, even as St. Paul was; and then there would be no other difference here between me and angels than that I, by watching, fasting, and praying without ceasing, had conquered and eradicated sin, which they had never even known. Vow, when I compare myself with the great apostle, I can scarcely perceive a diminutive feature or two of what shines so prominently in that noble saint.” —(1787.)

2. The second excellency that I notice in Venn is his singular wisdom and good sense in offering advice to others about duties. This is a rare qualification. I sometimes think it is almost easier to find a man of grace than a man of sense. How few are the people to whom we can turn for counsel on practical questions in religion, and feel a confidence that they will advise us well! The vicar of Huddersfield appears to me to have possessed the spirit of counsel and of a sound mind in an eminent degree. His letters to Jonathan Scott, John Brasier, and Lady Mary Fitzgerald, containing directions for living a Christian life, and a solution of doubts and fears, ought to be read in their entirety to be fully appreciated. They are so thoroughly good all the way through that it is not fair to quote from them. I know nothing in the English language, of a short kind, so likely to be useful to those who are beginning a Christian life. His letter to a clergyman on the study of Hebrew and the value of translations of the Bible, is a model of sensible advice, and furnishes abundant proof that evangelical clergymen of the last century were not, as their enemies often insinuated, “ unlearned and ignorant men.” Last, but not least, his letters to his son and other clergymen on the ministerial office and its duties and trials, and the mistakes of young ministers, are a magazine of Christian wisdom which will amply repay examination. Indeed, there are few books which I would so strongly recommend to the attention of young clergymen as “ Venn’s Life and Letters.” The truth is, the whole volume is full of strong Christian good sense, and it is difficult, in giving selections from it, to know where to begin and where to stop. The following quotations must suffice.

To a friend at Huddersfield he says, in 1763 :—‘“ The first thing I would press upon you is to beg of God more Jighé. There is not a more false maxim than this, though common in almost every mouth, that ‘Men know enough if they would but practice better.’ God says, on the contrary, ‘ My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge.’ And as at first men live in sin easy and well pleased, because they know not what they do; so after they are alive and awake they do little for God, and gain little victory over sin, through the zenorance that is in them. They have no comfort, no establishment, no certainty that they are in the right path, even when they are going to God, because the eyes of their understanding are so little enlightened to discern the things that make for their peace. In all your prayers, therefore, call much upon God for divine teaching.”

To a rich widow residing in London he says :—‘“ In the day when the eternal state of man is determined, the greater part of those that are lost will perish, not through any gross and scandalous iniquity, but through a deadness to God and his love, an ignorance of their own sinfulness, and, in consequence of that, through reigning pride and self-sufficiency. Now, the one great source of all this miserable disorder, or that at least by which it is maintained and strengthened, is keeping much company with those whom the Scripture marks out as engaged in talk without sense—company, not with near relatives or chosen friends, not with those for whom we have any real regard, but with those who come to see us and we go to see them, only because the providence of God has brought us into one town. It is this that devours infinitely precious time, and engages us in mere trifling, when we otherwise should be drawing nigh to God and growing rich in divine knowledge and grace; and such slaves are we naturally to the love of esteem, so eagerly desirous of having every one’s good word, that we are content to go on in the circle of fashionable folly, while our hearts condemn us, and a secret voice whispers, ‘This manner of spending time can never be right.’”

To the same lady he says :—“ You certainly judge right not to restrain your son from balls, cards, &c., since a mother will never be judged, by a son of his age, capable of determining for him; and perhaps, after your most strict injunctions to have done with such sinful vanities, he would be tempted even to violate your authority. The duty you are called of God to exercise now is to bear the cross borne at different times and in divers measures by all the disciples of a crucified Saviour. True, it is painful to see one’s dear child a lover of pleasure more than of God—painful to see a young creature, born for communion with God and acquaintance with heavenly joys, wedded to trivial gratifications and the objects of sense alone. But such are we! God prevented us with his goodness, and sounded an alarm in our souls, or we had been such to this hour. He expects, then, that your experience should teach you to wait for patience till mercy apprehend him also. From the whole, you see you are to learn two most important lessons from the painful situation you remain in with regard to your son. The one is, your own weakness and inability to give a single ray of light, or to excite the faintest conviction of sin, or to communicate the least particle of spiritual good, to one who is dearer to you than life. How ought this to take away every proud thought of our own sufficiency, and to keep us earnest importunate suppliants at the door of Almighty mercy and free grace! The other lesson is, that your own conversion, and reception of the Lord Jesus Christ as your portion and righteousness, ought to be marvellous in your eyes. You have many kind thoughts and the highest esteem for me, for which I desire to retain a dear sense in my mind; but you know I am merely a voice which said, ‘ Behold the Lamb of God !’”

3. The third excellency which strikes me in Venn’s character is Ais singular prudence and tenderness in the management of his children. Few ministers, perhaps, have ever been more successful than he was in the education and training of his family; few, perhaps, ever trained their sons and daughters with such unwearying pains, diligence, affection, watchfulness, and prayer. The families of pious ministers, like the sons of Samuel and David, have often brought discredit on their father’s house; or, like the children of Moses, have not been in any way remarkable. The family of Henry Venn forms a bright exception. All turned out well; all proved Christians of no common degree; and all gladdened their father’s heart in his old age.

It would be impossible, in the narrow limits of this work, to give any adequate idea of Venn’s dealing with his children. Those who feel an interest in the subject, and would like to know a most successful parent’s mode of communication with his children, would do well to study the hundred pages of letters to his children which are to be found in the volume of his life and letters. Rarely indeed does a father succeed in uniting faithfulness, spirituality, and deep familiar affection so completely, in his correspondence with sons and daughters, as Henry Venn did. I can only find room for three specimens.

To his daughter Catherine he says, in 1781, writing on the due observance of the Sabbath :—“ When I was of your age, I was, alas! a mere pretender to religion. Though I constantly went to the house of God on the Sabbath, I saw not the glory of the Lord—I understood not his Word—I did not hear it when it was read—I asked for nothing—I wanted nothing for my soul,—so foolish and ignorant was I! I was glad when the worship was over and the day was over, that my mouth might pour out foolishness, and that I might return to my sports and amusements. Oh, what a wicked stupidity of soul! I am astonished how God could bear with me. Had he said: ‘I swear thou shalt never ascend into the hill of the Lord, nor sce my face, who findest it such a weariness to be at church, and art so proud and profane in spirit. No: dwell for ever with those whom you are like; dwell with the devil and his angels, and with all who have departed this life enemies to my name and glory.” Oh! had the Lord spoken thus to me in displeasure, I had received the due reward of my deeds. But adore him for his love to your father. In this state he opened my eyes and allured my heart, and gave me to seek him and his strength and face, and to join all his saints who keep holy his day, and to be glad to hear them say, ‘ Come, and let us go up to the house of the Lord.’ Nay, more than this, he gave me your blessed mother for a companion, who loved exceedingly the house and day of the Lord; and repaired to you and me her loss, by giving me another of his dear children who sanctifies each Sabbath with delight, and reverences God’s house with her whole heart. Thus, instead of casting me into hell, he has made me the father of one dear saint in glory, and of four more—all of whom, I trust, fear and love the God of their father and mother, and all of whom, I have a lively hope, I shall meet in the courts above.”

To his daughter Jane he writes, in 1785 :—“ A great part of our warfare is to overcome our natural propensity to seek happiness in meat and drink, in dress and show; which only nourish our disease, and keep us from communion with God as our chief good. More than thirty-seven years ago he was pleased, in his adorable mercy, to give me a demonstration that all was vanity and vexation of spirit but himself. From that hour (such is the energy of divine teaching), rising up and lying down, going out and coming in, I have felt this truth. I began and continued to seek the Lord and his strength and his face evermore. I was then led to know how the poverty and emptiness of all terrestrial good could be well supplied from the fulness of an adorable Jesus. And, oh! how unspeakably blessed I am that I see my children impressed with the same precious and invaluable feelings, and that I hope, upon the best grounds, that we shall enjoy an eternity together in glory, where you shall know your father, not the poor, polluted, hasty, sinful creature he now is, but holy, without spot, wrinkle, or any such thing; and when I shall know my dear children, not as emerging from a sea of corruption, and struggling against the law of sin in their members, and needing frequent intimations to do what is right, but when naturally and continually all within and without will be perfectly holy. Oh! what a meeting will that be, when all my prayers for your precious souls ever since you were born, when all my poor yet wellmeant instructions and lessons from God’s Word, and all your own petitions, shall be fully answered, and we shall dwell in a perfect union together !”

To his son John, on his appointment to the rectory of Clapham, he writes, in 1792 :—‘“‘ Children, the old adage says, are careful comforts. I find the truth of this now, particularly respecting you. I was careful to see you called out to usefulness; and now providentially a great door is found, I am in daily concern lest you should be hurt and suffer loss in your new station. You must beware of company; you must be much in secret and retirement. Visiting friends, and being seldom in a solemn spirit before the throne of grace, ruin most of those who perish among professors of godliness.”

The following facts, communicated to me by a connection of Henry Venn’s, are in themselves so deeply interesting, and throw so much light on his mode of dealing with little children, that I make no apology for introducing them here. It appears that one of his daughters married a widower with a family of young children. These motherless little ones excited a strong interest in his heart, and he took one of them, only three years old, to his home at Yelling, and endeavoured to train the child for God. My correspondent says :—

“ The first thing he found out was that the poor child was afraid of the dark. That very evening he took him by the hand, led him into his study, where the shutters were already closed, and seating him on his knee, with his arm close round him, he told the timid boy so wonderful a story out of God’s Book as to make the child forget all beside. This he repeated day by day, till the evening story came to be anxiously expected. ‘You will sit by my side to-day, John, and hold my hands, while you hear a new Bible story,’ said the venerable man, after many a story had been told on the knee; ‘and to-morrow you will like to sit by me without holding my hands, will you not?’ This point once gained, a seat at a little distance was chosen, still in the dark; then one opposite; then one at the furthest end of the study; till, before winter closed, my father had entirely forgotten his fears of the dark, nor did they at any period of his life ever recur to him.”

The advice given by this more than grandfather to the child, when he left Yelling for school, was often quoted; and though for a time he threw off the restraints of religion, and sought happiness in the world, the closing words of his venerable friend were never forgotten, and in after-life were repeated to his children and grandchildren scores if not hundreds of times: ‘Remember, little John, if anything could make heaven not heaven to me, it would be the not having you with me there.”

God’s blessing did follow that Christian teaching; and after a long life spent, first in actively doing, and then in suffering, his Father’s will, that ‘Little John” rejoined his loved and honoured teacher in the skies, frequently saying, “‘ When I get to heaven, how I shall bless God for the early lesson of dear old Henry Venn !”

4. The fourth excellency that I notice in Venn is his singular unworliliness and cheerfulness of spirit. We had his share of worldly trials; and these, too, of all sorts and descriptions. Sickness and severe bodily trials—the loss of his wife in the middle of his abundant labours at Huddersfield —straitened circumstances, arising out of the extreme scantiness of his professional income, —all these things broke in upon him from time to time, and sorely tried his faith. But he seems to have been wonderfully strengthened throughout all his troubles. He preserved a cheerful frame of mind under every cross and trial, and was always able to see blue sky even in the gloomiest day.

His very portrait gives one the impression of a happy Christian. As we look at it, we can well understand the story that on more than one occasion he was asked to preach by clergymen who did not know him, under the idea that he was a jolly parson of the old school, and not a Methodist preacher! * They judged of him by his smiling face, and could not imagine that the man who had such a countenance could be the friend of Whitefield, Berridge, and Wesley. Striking, indeed, is the lesson that the incident contains. Well would it be for the Church of Christ if all preachers of the gospel were more careful to recommend their principles by their demeanour, and to show by their bearing that their Master's service is truly happy.

One single extract from his correspondence will suffice to show the vicar of Huddersfield’s unworldly spirit. He heard that a lady, who knew and valued him, had made a will, leaving him a large sum of money. He at once wrote hera letter, positively declining to accept it, of which the following extract is a part: “I understand by my wife your most kind and generous intention toward me in your will. The legacy would be exceedingly acceptable; and I can assure you the person from whom it would come would greatly enhance the benefit. I love my sweet children as much as is lawful; and as I know it would give you pleasure to administer to the comfort of me and mine, I should with greater joy accept of your liberality.

“But an insurmountable bar stands in the way—the love of

* All Evangelical clergymen a hundred years ago were called ‘‘ Methodists.” Many people in the present day are not aware of this fact.

Him to whom we are both indebted, not for a transient benefit, for silver or gold, but, for an ‘inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you.’ His honour, his cause, is, and must be, dearer to his people than wife, children, or life itself. It is the pious resolve of his saints, ‘I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.’ To be, therefore, a stumbling-block in the way of any that are seeking him, to give the least countenance to any that would gladly bring his followers into contempt, would grieve me while in health, darken my mind in sickness, and load me with self-condemnation on my death-bed. After the most mature deliberation, therefore, it 1s our request that you will not leave us any other token of your regard than something of little value.”

5. The last excellency that I note in Henry Venn is his extraordinary catholicity and kindliness of spirit, and his readiness to love and honour his brethren. Jealousy among ministers of Christ is, unhappily, a very common feeling. Nowhere, perhaps, will you find men so slow to recognize the gifts of others, and so quick to detect their faults, as in the ranks of preachers of religion. Of all the men of last century who attained eminent usefulness, I find none so free from jealousy as Henry Venn. He seems to delight in speaking well of his fellowlabourers, and to rejoice in their gifts and success.

It would be taking up too much room to quote all the expressions he uses about his contemporaries. Let it suffice to say that I find in his “Life” repeated kind words about the following men,— Whitefield, Wesley, Grimshaw, Romaine, Walker, Conyers, Hervey, Howell Harris, Berridge, Fletcher, Robinson, Newton, Adams, Cecil, Scott, and Abraham Booth the Baptist. That list alone is enough to show the largeness and warmth of Venn’s heart. To suppose that he agreed with all these good men in all things, is simply unreasonable. But he had a quick eye to see grace, and a ready mind to acknowledge and admire it. Well would it be for the Church of Christ, if all ministers were more of his frame and spirit in this matter! Envy and jealousy are too often the greatest blots on the character of great men.

It only remains for me, now, to conclude my account of Henry Venn by quoting the language used about him by three good judges, though very different men.

Let us hear what Cowper the poet thought of him. He says, in a letter to Newton, written in 1791: “I am sorry that Mr. Venn’s labours below are so near toa conclusion. I have seen few men whom I could have loved more, had opportunity been given me to know him better; so at least I have thought as often as I have seen him.”

Let us hear what Charles Simeon of Cambridge thought of him. He says: “I most gladly bear my testimony that not the half, nor the hundredth part, of what might have been justly said of that blessed man of God has been spoken. If any person now living, except his children, is qualified to bear this testimony, it is I, who, from my first entrance into orders to his dying hour, had most intimate access to him, and enjoyed most of his company and conversation. How great a blessing his conversation and example have been to me will never be known till the day of judgment. I dislike the language of panegyric, and therefore forbear to expatiate on a character which, in my estimation, was above all praise. Scarcely ever did I visit him but he prayed with me, at noon-day, as well as at common seasons of family-worship. Scarcely ever did I dine with him but his ardour in returning thanks, sometimes in an appropriate hymn, sometimes in prayer, has inflamed the souls of all present. In all the twenty-four years that I knew him, I never remember him to have spoken unkindly of any one but once; and then I was struck with the humiliation he expressed for it in prayer next day.”

Let us hear, lastly, what Sir James Stephen thought of Henry Venn. In his “Essays on Ecclesiastical Biography” (amidst some things I cannot subscribe to), he concludes his account of the vicar of Huddersfield and Yelling with the following passage: ‘ With a well-stored memory, he was an independent, if not an original, thinker. With deep and even vehement attachments, he knew how to maintain, on fit occasions, even to those he loved most, a judicial gravity, and even a judicial sternness. He acted with indefatigable energy in the throng of men, and yet in solitude could meditate with unwearied perseverance. He was at once a preacher at whose voice multitudes wept and trembled, and a companion to whose privacy the wise resorted for instruction, the wretched for comfort, and all for sympathy. In all the exigencies, and in all relations of life, the firmest reliance might always be placed on his counsel, his support, and his example. Like St. Paul, he became all things to all men, and for the same reason, that he might by any means save some.”

Such was the last of the seven great spiritual heroes of the last century. I have dwelt long on his history, but I feel that he deserves it. He was not the commanding preacher that either Whitefield or Rowlands was. He did not possess the polish of Romaine, or the originality of Grimshaw or Berridge. But, take him for all in all, Henry Venn was a great man.

(195) vAU Born at Exeter, 1714—Educated at Exeter College, Oxford—Ordained, 1737—Curate of Truro, 1746—At First very ignorant of the Gospel—Mr. Conon’s Influence—Effect of his Preaching—Opposition—Self-denial and Holy Life—Remarkable Effect on Soldiers —Private Unity Meetings—Died, 1761—Literary Remains—Preaching.