CHAPTER II.

Lord Huntingdon--The Bishop of Gloucester--Mr. Whitefield’s Preaching--its Effects--Dr. Southey--Dr. Hurd--Archbishop Secker--First Methodist Society--Lady Anne Frankland--Lord Scarborough--Dr. Young--Lady Fanny Shirley--Mrs. Temple--Lady Mary Wortley Montagu--Lady Townsend--Mr. Pope--Mr. Ingham--Mr. C. Wesley--Miss Robinson--Lord Lisburne--The House of Lords--Hammond the Poet--Somervile the Poet--Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough--Anecdotes--Duchess of Buckingham--Anecdotes--Duchess of Queensbury--Lord Oxford--Lady Hinchinbroke.

The biography of pious persons, who have devoted their lives to the benefit of mankind and to the glory of God, is an acknowledged source of pleasure and profit, and a species of writing possessing peculiar attractiveness, as we trace our subject through the scenes of life and the chamber of death, to the very gate of heaven! The illustrious subject of the present memoir was an example of piety, benevolence, and zeal, in the best of causes, such as succeeding generations may admire, when the warriors and statesmen who were her contemporaries shall be known no more.

On Lady Huntingdon’s recovery from the illness adverted to at page 14, she sent a kind message to Messrs. John and Charles Wesley, who were then preaching in the neighbourhood, professing to be one with them in heart, cordially wishing them good speed in the name of the Lord, and assuring them of her determined purpose to live for Him who had died for her.

The change which divine grace had wrought upon her Ladyship’s heart soon became observable to all around, by the open confession which she made of the faith once delivered to the saints, and by the zealous support she gave to the cause of God, amidst the torrents of reproach with which it was attended. To the noble circle in which the Countess moved, such professions and conduct appeared strange; and there were not wanting some who, under the guise of friendship, wished Lord Huntingdon to interpose his authority; but, although he differed from her Ladyship in her views of religion, he continued to manifest the same affection and respect, and at his demise left her the entire management of her children and their fortunes. His Lordship was too generous to yield to such insidious advice, but he recommended her to converse with Bishop Benson, who had been his tutor, and with this request she readily complied. The Bishop was accordingly sent for, and he attempted to convince her Ladyship of the unnecessary strictness of her sentiments and conduct. But she pressed him so hard with Scripture, brought so many arguments from the Articles and Homilies, and so plainly and faithfully urged upon him the awful responsibility of his station under the Great Head of the Church, that his temper was ruffled, and he rose up in haste to depart, bitterly lamenting that he had ever laid his hands upon George Whitefield, to whom he attributed the change wrought in her Ladyship. “My Lord! (said the Countess) mark my words: when you are on your dying bed, that will be one of the few ordinations you will reflect upon with complacence.” The Bishop’s conduct at that solemn season verified her prediction: for when near his death he sent ten guineas to Mr. Whitefield, as a token of regard and veneration, and begged to be remembered by him in his prayers![6]

Dr. Southey has, with a partiality little to his credit, related the former, but suppressed the latter portion of this anecdote, and has prostituted his talents in order to heap sarcasm, ridicule, and contempt upon the Countess. Her religious feelings, he insinuates, originated in a “_decided insanity in her family_!”--an assertion as wicked as it is false--and tells us that all the arguments of Bishop Benson “were ineffectual to bring her to a saner sense of devotion.” In the next edition of his caricature of Mr. Wesley, it would be candour to notice the Bishop’s _dying gift_ to Mr. Whitefield--his _dying professions of regard_ for Mr. Whitefield--and his _dying request_ for Mr. Whitefield’s _prayers_; a luminous commentary on the almost prophetic language of Lady Huntingdon, and a decisive reproof to the Poet Laureate’s fiction of hereditary insanity, which indeed is sufficiently disproved by her every act, her every letter, and her every word.

Though few persons have ever had so just a claim as her Ladyship to universal approbation, she was far from courting the applause of a world in which her Lord and Master had been publicly despised and rejected, or of making an ostentatious display of superior parts and accomplishments. Her family and connections, her attainments in science and grace, with whatever else might be considered as tending to her advantage, she regarded as matters of trivial estimation; while, in the lowliness of her heart, she adopted the language of the great Apostle; “God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.”

In 1738, the first Methodist Society was formed in the (now Moravian) chapel, a plain but venerable building, in Neville’s-court, Fetter-lane, London: Messrs. Wesley, Whitefield, Ingham, Howell Harris, and many other eminent men, preached there with amazing power and success; Messrs. Cennick and Oakley, and others who afterwards made a distinguished figure in the Church of Christ, were members of the congregation at this time. It was at this place that Lord and Lady Huntingdon first attended the Society meetings. Sir John Phillips and Sir John Thorold were amongst the awakened, and members of the Fetter-lane Society. Mr. Whitefield, who had lately returned from Bristol, where he had been preaching in the open air, was now in London, and, with Howell Harris, preached frequently at Fetter-lane. This was the central place of meeting. Here they had their love-feasts, and encouraged each other in devotedness to God. “On the first night of the new year (says Mr. Wesley), Messrs. Hall, Kineton, Ingham, Whitefield, Hutchins, and my brother Charles were present at our love-feast, with about sixty of our brethren. About three in the morning, as we were continuing intent in prayer, the power of God came mightily upon us, insomuch that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell to the ground. As soon as we recovered a little from our awe and amazement at the presence of the Divine Majesty, we broke out with one voice, ‘_We praise thee, O God! we acknowledge thee to be the Lord!_’” “It was a pentecost season indeed (says Mr. Whitefield): sometimes whole nights were spent in prayer: often have they been filled as with new wine, and often have I seen them overwhelmed with the Divine Presence, and heard them cry out, ‘_Will God indeed dwell with men upon earth? How dreadful is this place! This is no other than the house of God and the gate of heaven!_’”

The preaching of Mr. Whitefield now excited an unusual degree of attention among persons of all ranks. In many of the city churches he proclaimed the glad tidings of great joy to listening multitudes, who were powerfully affected by the fire which displayed in the animated addresses of this man of God. Lord and Lady Huntingdon constantly attended wherever he preached, and Lady Anne Frankland became one of the first fruits of his ministry amongst the nobility in the metropolis.[7] Her Ladyship spent much of her time with Lady Huntingdon, from whose society and conversation she derived great comfort; but was so affected by the many mortifications she met with, that she survived her brother, Lord Scarborough, but a few days, and her separation from Mr. Frankland only eight months.

The illustrious author of the “Night Thoughts” lived at this time among the great with that respect to which his literary talents justly entitled him. He had married Lady Elizabeth Lee, daughter of the Earl of Lichfield, and widow of Colonel Lee.[8] With Mrs. Temple, the amiable daughter of Lady Elizabeth, by her former husband, Lady Huntingdon had been extremely intimate; and having met Dr. Young at the residence of Lord Bolingbroke, soon after his return from abroad, their conversation had reference to the death of this lady, who died of a consumption at Montpelier, the year after her marriage with Mr. Temple, son of Lord Palmerston. It is more than poetically true, that the Doctor and Lady Elizabeth accompanied her to the continent.

“I flew, I snatched her from the rigid north, And bore her nearer to the Sun.”

But in vain. Her funeral was attended with the difficulties painted in such animated colours in “Night the Third.”[9]

Lady Huntingdon, who had many opportunities of seeing Dr. Young at this time, observed a settled melancholy in his disposition, and with a view to remove the load of domestic grief which seemed to oppress his spirits, introduced him to Mr. Charles Wesley, with whom he conversed freely, and of whom he afterwards spoke to her Ladyship in times of high commendation. From the preaching of the great Methodist leaders, whose ministry he occasionally attended, he appeared to derive some consolation and support. But another breach in his domestic happiness was soon after made by the decease of Lady Elizabeth; and to the sorrow Dr. Young felt from these losses, religion and morality are indebted for the “Night Thoughts.”

“There is a pleasure in sadness which mourners only know!”

Lady Huntingdon’s intimacy with Lord Bolingbroke, and her frequent visits to Twickenham, the residence of her aunt, Lady Fanny Shirley, brought her acquainted with most of the literary characters of that day.[10] Lady Fanny had long been one of the reigning beauties of the Court of George the First, and her only rival was the Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, whose talents, wit, literary genius, and eccentricities, have made her fame as extensive as the English language. Lady Fanny frequently attracted the notice of his Majesty, and likewise that of the Prince of Wales.[11]

Previous to any decided religious impression having been made on her mind, Lady Huntingdon was much at Court, but took no part in the fashionable levities of the great and gay. Amongst her acquaintances, at that period, we find Lady Betty Finch, daughter of Daniel, Earl of Nottingham, who had just espoused Mr. Murray, afterwards Lord Mansfield; Lord Townshend’s Lady, whose wit and eccentricities made so much noise during a great part of the last century,[12] and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (the rival of Lady Fanny Shirley), who was the life and soul of the Court circle, and at one period very intimate with Lady Huntingdon, though her senior by seventeen years.[13]

At one period of her life, Lady Huntingdon appears to have been much occupied with political questions. Her sentiments were conformable with those of Sir Robert Walpole and his Administration; and she was much connected with the courtiers of that day. A little incident which occurred at this period will serve to mark the natural ardour of her character. There were some stormy debates in the House of Lords, in May 1738, on the depredations of the Spaniards, in which Lord Huntingdon, Lord Hervey, and others of his intimate friends, took a leading part. Her Ladyship expressed her intention of being present, though ladies were excluded. “At the last warm debate in the House of Lords (says Lady Mary Wortley Montagu), it was unanimously resolved there should be no unnecessary auditors; consequently the fair sex were excluded, and the gallery destined to the sole use of the House of Commons. Notwithstanding which determination, a tribe of dames resolved to show, on this occasion, that neither men nor laws could resist them. These heroines were Lady Huntingdon, the Duchess of Queensbury, the Duchess of Ancaster, Lady Westmoreland, Lady Cobham, Lady Charlotte Edwin, Lady Archibald Hamilton and her daughter Mrs. Scott, Mrs. Pendarves, and Lady Frances Saunderson. I am thus particular in their names, since I looked upon them to be the boldest assertors and most resigned sufferers for liberty I ever read of. They presented themselves at the door at nine o’clock in the morning, when Sir William Saunderson respectfully informed them that the Chancellor had made an order against their admittance. The Duchess of Queensbury, as head of the squadron, ‘pished’ at the ill-breeding of a mere lawyer, and desired Sir William to let them up stairs privately. After some modest refusals, he swore he would not admit them. Her Grace, with a noble warmth, answered, they would come in, in spite of the Chancellor and the whole House. This being reported, the Peers resolved to starve them out; an order was made that the doors should not be opened till they had raised their siege. These Amazons now showed themselves qualified for the duty even of foot-soldiers; they stood there till five in the afternoon, without sustenance, every now and then plying volleys of thumps, kicks, and raps, with so much violence against the door, that the speakers in the House were scarce heard. When the Lords were not to be conquered by this, the two Duchesses (very well apprised of the use of stratagems in war) commanded a silence of half an hour; and the Chancellor, who thought this a certain proof of their absence (the Commons also being very impatient to enter), gave orders for the opening of the door, upon which they all rushed in, pushed aside their competitors, and placed themselves in the front rows of the gallery. They stayed there till after eleven, when the House rose; and during the debate gave applause, and showed marks of dislike, not only by smiles and winks (which have always been allowed in these cases), but by noisy laughs and apparent contempts, which is supposed the true reason why poor Lord Hervey[14] spoke so miserably.”

Her high birth of course entitled Lady Huntingdon to the society and respect of her equals; and Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, and Catherine, Duchess of Buckingham, were her correspondents. The former and her sister, the Countess of Tyrconnell, were two of the most remarkable beauties of their day. The Duchess of Marlborough was, in early life, appointed maid of honour to the Duchess of York, and to her external attractions added, what was rarely met with in those days, all the witchery of mind and all the dignity of conscious rectitude. Her conversation and deportment were alike irresistible, from a just and delightful mixture of softness and sprightliness: a little petulance and caprice of temper; a little heedlessness of manner; a good deal of her sex’s pride, yet more of its vanity; a quickness of imagination, which sometimes hurried her to the verge of imprudence, and a natural acuteness and readiness of wit which as often extricated her--

“Yielding by nature, stubborn but for fame,”

were the characteristics of this woman’s masculine mind and intriguing spirit, which, by her influence in the Cabinet, may be said to have swayed the destinies of Europe with greater effect than did her husband by his talents in the field. Her name is introduced in this place, however, to show the vanity of earthly triumphs. Two letters from her Grace of Marlborough to Lady Huntingdon, written about this time, refer principally to the preaching of the great Methodist leaders, whom her Ladyship had invited the Duchess to hear:--

“My dear Lady Huntingdon is always so very good to me, and I really do feel so very sensibly all your kindness and attention, that I must accept your very obliging invitation to accompany you to hear Mr. Whitefield, though I am still suffering from the effects of a severe cold. Your concern for my improvement in religious knowledge is very obliging, and I do hope that I shall be the better for all your excellent advice. God knows we all need mending, and none more than myself. I have lived to see great changes in the world--have acted a conspicuous part myself--and now hope, in my old days, to obtain mercy from God, as I never expect any at the hands of my fellow-creatures. The Duchess of Ancaster, Lady Townshend, and Lady Cobham were exceedingly pleased with many observations in Mr. Whitefield’s sermon at St. Sepulchre’s Church, which has made me lament ever since that I did not hear it, as it might have been the means of doing me some good--_for good, alas_! I DO WANT: but where among the corrupt sons and daughters of Adam am I to find it? Your Ladyship must direct me. You are all goodness and kindness, and I often wish I had a portion of it. Women of wit, beauty, and quality, cannot hear too many humiliating truths--they shock our pride. But we must die--we must converse with earth and worms.

“Pray do me the favour to present my humble service to your excellent spouse. A more amiable man I do not know than Lord Huntingdon. And believe me, my dear Madam, your most faithful and most humble servant,

“S. MARLBOROUGH.”

“Your letter, my dear Madam, was very acceptable. Many thanks to Lady Fanny for her good wishes. Any communications from her, and my dear good Lady Huntingdon, are always welcome, and always, in every particular, to my satisfaction. _I have no comfort in my own family_, therefore must look for that pleasure and gratification which others can impart. I hope you will shortly come and see me, and give me more of your company than I have had latterly. In truth, I always feel more happy and more contented after an hour’s conversation with you, than I do after a whole week’s round of amusement. _When alone, my reflections and recollections almost kill me_, and I am forced to fly to the society of those I detest and abhor. Now there is Lady Frances Saunderson’s[15] great route to-morrow night--all the world will be there, and I must go. I do hate that woman as much as I do hate a physician; but I must go, if for no other purpose than to mortify and spite her. This is very wicked, I know, but I confess all my little peccadillos to you, for I know your goodness will lead you to be mild and forgiving, and perhaps my wicked heart may gain some good from you in the end.

“Make my kindest respects to Lord Huntingdon. Lady Fanny has my best wishes for the success of her attack on that crooked, perverse little wretch at Twickenham.[16] Assure yourself, my dear good Madam, that I am your most faithful and most obliged humble servant,

“S. MARLBOROUGH.”

This very conspicuous, very assailable, and very irritable woman, so celebrated for quarrelling with all the rest of human kind, always took in good part whatever Lady Huntingdon said or wrote, and never appears to have been affronted or offended by the home-truths which she must have heard from her.[17]

The Duchess of Buckingham, a woman perfectly mad with pride, was distantly connected with Lady Huntingdon’s family. Her first husband, the Earl of Anglesea, from whom she was separated by the unanimous consent of the King and Parliament, was cousin-german to Charles Annesley, Esq., Captain of the Battle-Axe-Guard, who married Lady Levinge, the second wife of the Right Hon. Sir Richard Levinge, the grandfather of Lady Huntingdon. A few years after this she was married to John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, died at her house in St. James’s Park (now Buckingham Palace), March 13, 1742, and was publicly interred about a month after in Westminster Abbey. During the early days of Methodism, her Grace occasionally attended the preaching of Mr. Whitefield and the Wesleys, but she was decidedly opposed to the doctrines which they promulgated. In a short epistle to Lady Huntingdon she says:--

“I thank your Ladyship for the information concerning the Methodist preachers; their doctrines are most repulsive, and strongly tinctured with impertinence and disrespect towards their superiors, in perpetually endeavouring to level all ranks, and do away with all distinctions. It is monstrous to be told, that you have a heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth. This is highly offensive and insulting; and I cannot but wonder that your Ladyship should relish any sentiments so much at variance with high rank and good breeding.

“Your Ladyship does me infinite honour by your obliging inquiries after my health. I shall be most happy to accept your kind offer of accompanying me to hear your favourite preacher, and shall wait your arrival. The Duchess of Queensbury insists on my patronizing her on this occasion; consequently she will be an _addition_ to our party.

“I have the honour to be, my dear Lady Huntingdon, your Ladyship’s most faithful and obliged,

“C. BUCKINGHAM.”[18]

During her last illness, Lady Huntingdon made some efforts to see her, but from a short note which remains, written by one of her maids of honour, there is reason to believe the attempt was vain:--

“The Duchess of Buckingham presents her compliments to the Countess of Huntingdon, is extremely obliged by her kind offer and attentions, but regrets exceedingly her entire inability to undergo the fatigue of conversation.

“_March 2, 1742._”

The Duchess of Queensbury, to whom allusion has been made, was a very conspicuous figure in the circles of fashion at this period; she was second daughter of the Earl of Clarendon and Rochester, and celebrated for extraordinary beauty, wit, and sprightliness, by Pope, Swift, and other poets, particularly by Prior, in one of his well-known ballads. She and the Duke were forbid the Court by George II., for their patronage of the poet Gay, but were received by Frederick, Prince of Wales, and the Duke had an appointment in his household.

At one period of her life, the Duchess was much affected by the preaching of the first Methodists, whose ministry she constantly attended. But her wit and beauty drew her back into the vortex of dissipation, and she appears to have lost all trace of the impressions which had been made on her mind in early life. She was particularly partial to the preaching of Mr. Charles Wesley and Mr. Ingham, who occasionally visited London, and were extremely popular. Her Grace survived both her children, one of whom shot himself by accident, and the other died from the fright and fatigue he underwent at Lisbon, at the time of the destruction of that city by the great earthquake, in 1755.

A deep gloom was cast over the family and connections of Lady Huntingdon at this time, by the sudden and very alarming illness of Charles Cotes, Esq., Member of Parliament for Tamworth, then on a visit at Lord Huntingdon’s house, whilst attending his parliamentary duties. Dr. Battie and Mr. Cheselden, head surgeons to Chelsea hospital, were in daily attendance on Mr. Cotes, who was soon pronounced out of danger, and in a few weeks completely convalescent. Religious subjects were frequently discussed during the visits of these medical gentlemen; and, on one occasion, a passage in the beginning of Mr. Locke’s “Reasonableness of Christianity,” which implies the eternity of that death which all the race of Adam were exposed to by his transgression, until redeemed by Christ, became the subject of warm debate. Mr. Locke explains 1 Cor. v. 22--“As in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive”--thus: as the death that all men suffer is owing to Adam, so the life that all shall be restored to again is procured them by Christ. Dr. Battie differed from Lady Huntingdon and Mr. Cheselden in the interpretation of this passage; and some time after communicated to his friends the result of his reflections, in a pamphlet printed for private circulation. Both these medical gentlemen were men of singular excellence, and esteemed the first men in their profession. One of the daughters of Dr. Battie was the wife of Admiral Sir George Young, one of the bravest officers in the British service. The only child of Mr. Cheselden was married to the above-mentioned Mr. Cotes, the cousin of Lady Huntingdon, and nephew of Lady Fanny Shirley.

Some time prior to this period, Lady Huntingdon, who was distinguished by that superiority of demeanour which is acquired by the habit of intercourse with persons of the most cultivated talents and the most polished manners, had formed an intimacy with Margaret Cavendish Harley, only daughter and heir of the Earl of Oxford, who had married the Duke of Portland, a lady well known for her love of the arts and her patronage of literature. Their friendship was cemented by her Ladyship’s frequent visits to Wimpole, in Cambridgeshire, the seat of Lord Oxford, a nobleman eminently distinguished for his disinterestedness both in public and private life, and respected as one of the principal patrons of literature in his age. His Lordship had a high opinion of the singular worth of Lady Huntingdon, whom he had known from his earliest days, and, when near his death, sent for her to attend him and administer consolation in his last moments. He was a great admirer of Mr. Whitefield’s eloquence, and often attended his ministry; but barren admiration seems to have been the utmost effect produced on the mind of his Lordship. What might have been the result of Lady Huntingdon’s faithful and heart-searching conversations with him, in his dying hours, we are not informed. He died at his house in Dover-street, June 16, 1741, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, speaking of his death, says he refused all remedies till too late. His Lordship’s valuable collection of manuscripts was preserved by his Countess, at her residence in Dover-street, till her Ladyship, for the service of the public, consented to their purchase by the Parliament, in 1754, and they are now deposited in the British Museum. The Harleian Library was the choicest and most extensive in England; and the catalogue of its literary treasures was printed in two large folio volumes. Lord Oxford was only forty-two years of age at the time of his decease.

It was during one of Lady Huntingdon’s visits to Wimpole that she first became acquainted with Miss Robinson, a lady perhaps better known in her time in the circles of fashion and genius than any of her contemporaries. She was afterwards married to Mr. Montagu, a man eminent for his acquirements in science, particularly in mathematics, and much beloved and respected for his amiable character and strong understanding. Lady Huntingdon, with a large circle of her acquaintance, was present at the marriage ceremony; and her Ladyship, many years after, had the pleasure of seeing that she was an exemplary wife to a man much older than herself, and proved herself worthy to be the bosom friend of a husband whose strict honour and integrity, as a gentleman and a member of Parliament, were not less conspicuous than his unwearied diligence and deep research as a man of science.

Lord Lisburne dying about this time, without male issue, was succeeded in title and estates by his next brother, Wilmot, the third Viscount. This nobleman was on terms of great intimacy with the family of Lord Huntingdon, to whom he had been introduced by his cousin, Lady Hinchinbroke, the mother of John, fourth Earl of Sandwich. Lord Lisburne had married Miss Watson, of Berwick-upon-Tweed, a woman of great excellence, and a frequent attendant on the preaching of the first Methodists. Roused by their powerful ministry to a lively concern for eternal things, she zealously sought to diffuse in the circle of her acquaintance the savour of those truths which she loved and believed. Her Ladyship’s intimacy with Lady Huntingdon was considerably increased some years after by the marriage of her son, Lord Lisburne, with Miss Nightingale, the only daughter of Lady Elizabeth Nightingale, and the niece of Lady Huntingdon.

Lady Hinchinbroke, the granddaughter to the Duke of Montagu, and nearly allied to those ladies of epistolary genius, Lady Mary Wortley and Mrs. Montagu, was early left a widow, and was afterwards married to the second son of the renowned Sir Edward Seymour, Bart., and brother to the eighth Duke of Somerset. Her Ladyship had many domestic afflictions, which she bore with patient resignation to the will of Heaven. Her mind was deeply imbued with a sense of religion, under the powerful ministry of these great Methodist leaders, and there is abundant reason to believe that she was truly converted to God. Her early acquaintance with Lady Huntingdon was of essential service in directing her attention to the great and important concerns of eternity; and, in one of her letters to the Countess, we find her thus expressing herself:--

“My dear Madam,--I am extremely sensible of the honour your Ladyship has done me by the book which you have sent, from which I expect to derive much gratification and instruction. I am deeply indebted to your kindness, and the anxiety you have manifested at all times for my spiritual improvement. Indeed, I stand in need of all your sympathy and all your unwearied exertions; for I feel myself utterly helpless, miserable, and guilty, in the sight of Heaven; and were it not for the ray of hope which I have in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, would be driven to despair and ruin.

“I shall have much pleasure in waiting on your Ladyship to-morrow. Have you heard where Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Wesley are to preach this week? With kindest regards to Lord Huntingdon, I remain, my dear Madam, your faithful friend and most humble servant,

“E. HINCHINBROKE.”[19]