Part 2

It was my custom at that time to recollect as much as I could of the sermons I heard, and to commit it to writing. This practice I began very early, and continued it until I was able from the heads of a discourse to supply the rest myself. For not troubling myself to commit to memory much of the amplification, and writing at home almost as much as I had heard, I insensibly acquired a habit of composing with great readiness; and from this practice I believe I have derived great advantage through life; composition seldom employing so much time as would be necessary to write in long hand any thing I have published.

By these means, not being disgusted with these strict forms of religion as many persons of better health and spirits probably might have been (and on which account I am far from recommending the same strictness to others) I acquired in early life a serious turn of mind. Among other things I had at this time a great aversion to _Plays and Romances_, so that I never read any works of this kind except Robinson Crusoe, until I went to the academy. I well remember seeing my brother Timothy reading a book of Knight Errantry, and with great indignation I snatched it out of his hands, and threw it away. This brother afterwards, when he had for some time followed my father’s business (which was that of a Cloth-dresser) became, if possible, more serious than I had been; and after an imperfect education, took up the profession of a minister among the Independents, in which he now continues.

While I was at the Grammar School I learned _Mr. Annet’s Short hand_, and thinking I could suggest some improvements in it, I wrote to the Author, and this was the beginning of a correspondence which lasted several years. He was, as I ever perceived, an unbeliever in Christianity and a necessarian. On this subject several letters, written with care on both sides, passed between us, and these Mr. Annet often pressed me to give him leave to publish, but I constantly refused. I had undertaken the defence of Philosophical Liberty, and the correspondence was closed without my being convinced of the fallacy of my arguments, though upon studying the subject regularly, in the course of my academical education afterwards, I became a confirmed Necessarian, and I have through life derived, as I imagine, the greatest advantage from my full persuasion of the truth of that doctrine.

My Aunt, and all my relations, being strict Calvinists, it was their intention to send me to the academy at _Mile-end_, then under the care of Dr. Cawder. But, being at that time an Arminian, I resolutely opposed it, especially upon finding that if I went thither, besides giving an _experience_, I must subscribe my assent to ten printed articles of the strictest calvinistic faith, and repeat it every six months. My opposition, however, would probable have been to no purpose, and I must have adopted some other mode of life, if Mr. Kirkby above mentioned had not interposed, and strongly recommended the academy of Dr. Doddridge, on the idea that I should have a better chance of being made a scholar. He had received a good education himself, was a good classical scholar, and had no opinion of the mode of education among the very orthodox Dissenters, and being fond of me, he was desirous of my having every advantage that could be procured for me. My good Aunt, not being a bigotted Calvinist, entered into his views, and Dr. Doddridge being dead, I was sent to Daventry, and was the first pupil that entered there. My Step-mother also, who was a woman of good sense, as well as of religion, had a high opinion of Dr. Doddridge, having been sometime housekeeper in his family. She had always recommended his Academy, but died before I went thither.

Three years, viz. from September 1752 to 1755, I spent at Daventry with that peculiar satisfaction with which young persons of generous minds usually go through a course of liberal study, in the society of others engaged in the same pursuits, and free from the cares and anxieties which seldom fail to lay hold on them when they come out into the world.

In my time, the academy was in a state peculiarly favorable to the serious pursuit of truth, as the students were about equally divided upon every question of much importance, such as Liberty and Necessity, the Sleep of the soul, and all the articles of theological orthodoxy and heresy; in consequence of which all these topics were the subject of continual discussion. Our tutors also were of different opinions; Dr. Ashworth taking the orthodox side of every question, and Mr. Clark, the sub-tutor, that of heresy, though always with the greatest modesty.

Both of our tutors being young, at least as tutors, and some of the senior students excelling more than they could pretend to do in several branches of study, they indulged us in the greatest freedoms, so that our lectures had often the air of friendly conversations on the subjects to which they related. We were permitted to ask whatever questions, and to make whatever remarks, we pleased; and we did it with the greatest, but without any offensive, freedom. The general plan of our studies, which may be seen in Dr. Doddridge’s published lectures, was exceedingly favourable to free enquiry, as we were referred to authors on both sides of every question, and were even required to give an account of them. It was also expected that we should abridge the most important of them for our future use. The public library contained all the books to which we were referred.

It was a reference to Dr. Hartley’s Observations on Man in the course of our Lectures, that first brought me acquainted with that performance, which immediately engaged my closest attention, and produced the greatest, and in my opinion the most favourable effect on my general turn of thinking thro’ life. It established me in the belief of the doctrine of Necessity, which I first learned from Collins; it greatly improved that disposition to piety which I brought to the academy, and freed it from that rigour with which it had been tinctured. Indeed, I do not know whether the consideration of Dr. Hartley’s theory contributes more to enlighten the mind, or improve the heart; it effects both in so super-eminent a degree.

In this situation, I saw reason to embrace what is generally called the heterodox side of almost every question.[2] But notwithstanding this, and though Dr. Ashworth was earnestly desirous to make me as orthodox as possible, yet, as my behaviour was unexceptionable, and as I generally took his part in some little things by which he often drew upon himself the ill-will of many of the students, I was upon the whole a favourite with him. I kept up more or less of a correspondence with Dr. Ashworth till the time of his death, though much more so with Mr. Clark. This continued till the very week of his melancholy death by a fall from his horse at Birmingham, where he was minister.

[2] It will be seen in the course of these memoirs that from time to time as deeper reflection and more extensive reading incited him, he saw reason to give up almost all the peculiar theological and metaphysical opinions which he had imbibed in early youth; some of them with considerable difficulty, and all of them at the evident risk of considerable obloquy from those whom he highly respected, as well as from those on whom his interest appeared to depend.

T. C.

Notwithstanding the great freedom of our speculations and debates, the extreme of heresy among us was Arianism; and all of us, I believe, left the academy with a belief, more or less qualified, of the doctrine of _atonement_.

Warm friendships never fail to be contracted at places of liberal education; and when they are well chosen are of singular use; Such was mine with Mr. Alexander of Birmingham. We were in the same class, and during the first year occupied the same room. By engagements between ourselves we rose early, and dispatched many articles of business every day. One of them, which continued all the time we were at the academy, was to read every day ten folio pages in some Greek author, and generally a Greek play in the course of the week besides. By this means we became very well acquainted with that language, and with the most valuable authors in it. This exercise we continued long after we left the academy, communicating to each other by letter an account of what we read. My life becoming more occupied than his, he continued his application to Greek longer than I did, so that before his death he was, I imagine, one of the best Greek scholars in this or any other country. My attention was always more drawn to mathematical and philosophical studies than his was.

These voluntary engagements were the more necessary, in the course of our academical studies, as there was then no provision made for teaching the learned languages. We had even no compositions, or orations, in Latin. Our course of lectures was also defective in containing no lectures on the scriptures, or on ecclesiastical history, and by the students in general (and Mr. Alexander and myself were no exceptions) commentators in general and ecclesiastical history also, were held in contempt. On leaving the academy he went to study under his uncle Dr. Benson, and with him learned to value the critical study of the scriptures so much, that at length he almost confined his attention to them.

My other particular friends among my fellow students were Mr. Henry Holland, of my own class, Messrs. Whitehead, Smithson, Rotherham, and Scholefield in that above me, and Mr. Taylor in that below me. With all these I kept up more or less of a correspondence, and our friendship was terminated only by the death of those who are now dead, viz. the three first named of these six, and I hope it will subsist to the same period with those who now survive.

All the while I was at the academy I never lost sight of the great object of my studies, which was the duties of a christian minister, and there it was that I laid the general plan which I have executed since. Particularly I there composed the first copy of my _Institutes of Natural and Revealed Religion_, Mr. Clark, to whom I communicated my scheme, carefully perusing every section of it, and talking over the subject of it with me.

But I was much discouraged even then with the _impediment in my speech_, which I inherited from my family, and which still attends me. Sometimes I absolutely stammered, and my anxiety about it was the cause of much distress to me. However, like St. Paul’s _thorn in the flesh_, I hope it has not been without its use. Without some such check as this, I might have been disputatious in company, or might have been seduced by the love of popular applause as a preacher: whereas my conversation and my delivery in the pulpit having nothing in them that was generally striking, I hope I have been more attentive to qualifications of a superior kind.

It is not, I believe, usual for young persons in dissenting academies to think much of their future situations in life. Indeed, we are happily precluded from that by the impossibility of succeeding in any application for particular places. We often, indeed, amused ourselves with the idea of our dispersion in all parts of the kingdom after living so happily together; and used to propose plans of meeting at certain times, and smile at the different appearance we should probably make after being ten or twenty years settled in the world. But nothing of this kind was ever seriously resolved upon by us. For my own part, I can truly say I had very little ambition, except to distinguish myself by my application to the studies proper to my profession; and I cheerfully listened to the first proposal that my tutor made to me, in consequence of an application made to him, to provide a minister for the people of Needham Market in Suffolk, though it was very remote from my friends in Yorkshire, and a very inconsiderable place.

When I went to preach at Needham as a candidate, I found a small congregation, about an hundred people; under a Mr. Meadows, who was superannuated. They had been without a minister the preceding year, on account of the smallness of the salary; but there being some respectable and agreeable families among them, I flattered myself that I should be useful and happy in the place, and therefore accepted the unanimous invitation to be assistant to Mr. Meadows, with a view to succeed him when he died. He was a man of some fortune.

This congregation had been used to receive assistance from both the Presbyterian and Independent funds; but upon my telling them that I did not chuse to have any thing to do with the Independents, and asking them whether they were able to make up the salary they promised me (which was forty pounds per annum) without any aid from the latter fund, they assured me they could. I soon, however, found that they deceived themselves; for the most that I ever received from them was in the proportion of about thirty pounds per annum, when the expence of my board exceeded twenty pounds.

Notwithstanding this, every thing else for the first half year appeared very promising, and I was happy in the success of my schemes for promoting the interest of religion in the place. I catechised the children, though there were not many, using Dr. Watt’s Catechism; and I opened my lectures on the theory of religion from the _institutes_, which I had composed at the academy, admitting all persons to attend them without distinction of sex or age; but in this I soon found that I had acted imprudently. A minister in that neighbourhood had been obliged to leave his place on account of Arianism, and though nothing had been said to me on the subject, and from the people so readily consenting to give up the independent fund, I thought they could not have much bigotry among them, I found that when I came to treat of the _Unity of God_, merely as an article of religion, several of my audience were attentive to nothing but the soundness of my faith in the doctrine of the Trinity.

Also, though I had made it a rule to myself to introduce nothing that could lead to controversy into the pulpit; yet making no secret of my real opinions in conversation, it was soon found that I was an Arian. From the time of this discovery my hearers fell off apace, especially as the old minister took a decided part against me. The principal families, however, still continued with me; but notwithstanding this, my salary fell far short of thirty pounds per annum, and if it had not been for Dr. Benson and Dr. Kippis, especially the former, procuring me now and then an extraordinary five pounds from different charities, I do not believe that I could have subsisted. I shall always remember their kindness to me, at a time when I stood in so much need of it.

When I was in this situation, a neighbouring minister whose intimate friend had conformed to the church of England, talked to me on that subject. He himself, I perceived, had no great objection to it, but rejecting the proposal, as a thing that I could not think of, he never mentioned it to me any more.

To these difficulties, arising from the sentiments of my congregation, was added that of the failure of all remittances from my aunt, owing in part to the ill offices of my orthodox relations; but chiefly to her being exhausted by her liberality to others, and thinking that when I was settled in the world, I ought to be no longer burdensome to her. Together with me she had brought up a niece, who was almost her only companion, and being deformed, could not have subsisted without the greatest part, at least, of all she had to bequeath. In consequence of these circumstances, tho’ my aunt had always assured me that, if I chose to be a minister, she would leave me independent of the profession, I was satisfied she was not able to perform her promise, and freely consented to her leaving all she had to my cousin; I had only a silver tankard as a token of her remembrance. She had spared no expence in my education, and that was doing more for me than giving me an estate.

But what contributed greatly to my distress was the _impediment in my speech_, which had increased so much as to make preaching very painful, and took from me all chance of recommending myself to any better place. In this state, hearing of the proposal of one Mr. Angier to cure all defects of speech, I prevailed upon my aunt to enable me to pay his price, which was twenty guineas; and this was the first occasion of my visiting London. Accordingly, I attended him about a month, taking an oath not to reveal his method, and I received some temporary benefit; but soon relapsed again, and spoke worse than ever. When I went to London it was in company with Mr. Smithson, who was settled at Harlestown in Norfolk. By him I was introduced to Dr. Kippis and Dr. Benson, and by the latter to Dr. Price, but not at that time.

At Needham I felt the effect of a low despised situation, together with that arising from the want of popular talents. There were several vacancies in congregations in that neighbourhood, where my sentiments would have been no objection to me, but I was never thought of. Even my next neighbours, whose sentiments were as free as my own, and known to be so, declined making exchanges with me, which, when I left that part of the country, he acknowledged was not owing to any dislike his people had to me as heretical, but for other reasons, the more genteel part of his hearers always absenting themselves when they heard I was to preach for him. But visiting that country some years afterwards, when I had raised myself to some degree of notice in the world, and being invited to preach in that very pulpit, the same people crowded to hear me, though my elocution was not much improved, and they professed to admire one of the same discourses they had formerly despised.

Notwithstanding these unfavorable circumstances, I was far from being unhappy at Needham. I was boarded in a family from which I received much satisfaction, I firmly believed that a wise providence was disposing every thing for the best, and I applied with great assiduity to my studies, which were classical, mathematical and theological. These required but few books. As to Experimental Philosophy, I had always cultivated an acquaintance with it, but I had not the means of prosecuting it.

With respect to miscellaneous reading, I was pretty well supplied by means of a library belonging to Mr. S. Alexander, a quaker,[3] to which I had the freest access. Here it was that I was first acquainted with any person of that persuasion; and I must acknowledge my obligation to many of them in every future stage of my life. I have met with the noblest instances of liberality of sentiment and the truest generosity among them.

[3] QUAKERS. That instances of liberality of sentiment with respect to religious opinion are frequently to be found among the Quakers there can be no doubt, but this is certainly no part of their character as a Sect. Thomas Letchworth one of the most acute and ingenious of their preachers at Wandsworth near London, who from the writings of Dr. Priestley had become a firm convert to his Unitarian opinions, informed me that the expression of those opinions would be attended with certain expulsion from the Society. Very lately Hannah Bernard, a female public friend who went from America to England, was prohibited from preaching by the Society, on account of her Unitarian doctrines.

Thomas Letchworth has been dead many years. In the short contest on the question of liberty and necessity which was occasioned by Toplady’s life of Jerome Zanchius, he wrote a good defence of the doctrine of necessity signed Philaretes in answer to one from a disciple of Fletcher’s of Madely, under the signature of Philaleutheros. There is a trifling account of him containing no information, by one William Matthews.

T. C.

My studies however, were chiefly theological. Having left the academy, as I have observed, with a qualified belief of the doctrine of _Atonement_, such as is found in Mr. Tomkin’s book, entitled, _Jesus Christ the Mediator_, I was desirous of getting some more definite ideas on the subject, and with that view set myself to peruse the whole of the old and new testament, and to collect from them all the texts that appeared to me to have any relation to the subject. This I therefore did with the greatest care, arranging them under a great variety of heads. At the same time I did not fail to note such _general considerations_ as occurred to me while I was thus employed. The consequence of this was, what I had no apprehension of when I began the work, viz. a full persuasion that the doctrine of Atonement, even in its most qualified sense, had no countenance either from scripture or reason. Satisfied of this, I proceeded to digest my observations into a regular treatise, which a friend of mine, without mentioning my name, submitted to the perusal of Dr. Fleming and Dr. Lardner. In consequence of this, I was urged by them to publish the greater part of what I had written. But being then about to leave Needham, I desired them to do whatever they thought proper with respect to it, and they published about half of my piece, under the title of the _Doctrine of Remission, &c._

This circumstance introduced me to the acquaintance of Dr. Lardner, whom I always called upon when I visited London. The last time I saw him, which was little more than a year before his death, having by letter requested him to give me some assistance with respect to the history I then prepared to write of the Corruptions of Christianity, and especially that article of it, he took down a large bundle of pamphlets, and turning them over at length shewing me my own; said, “This contains my sentiments on the subject.” He had then forgot that I wrote it, and on my remarking it, he shook his head, and said that his memory began to fail him; and that he had taken me for another person. He was then at the advanced age of ninety one. This anecdote is trifling in itself, but it relates to a great and good man.