CHAPTER VI.
Death of the Earl of Huntingdon--His Lordship’s Epitaph--Letter from Sir John Thorold--Lady Huntingdon’s Piety--Letter to Dr. Doddridge--Lady Kilmorey--Duchess of Somerset--Welsh Preachers--Lady Frances Hastings--Mrs. Edwin--Lady Huntingdon’s adherence to the Church of England--Letter from Dr. Watts to Dr. Doddridge.
Afflictions seldom come alone. The loss of Lady Huntingdon’s children was soon followed by the decease of the Earl, who departed this life on the 13th of October, 1746, at his house, in Downing-street, Westminster, in the fiftieth year of his age. His Lordship (who, it was remarkable, had hardly ever dreamt in his life before) dreamed one night, that death, in the semblance of a skeleton, appeared at the bed’s foot, and, after standing a while, untucked the bed-clothes at the bottom, and crept up to the top of the bed (under the clothes) and lay between him and his lady. His Lordship told his dream, in the morning, to the Countess, who affected to make light of it; but the Earl died of a fit of apoplexy, in about a fortnight after. This circumstance was narrated by her Ladyship to Mr. Toplady, at Romford, in Essex, April 12, 1776, and was printed in his posthumous works.[32]
The death of Lord Huntingdon formed a new era in the life of his devoted Countess. The loss of children, and the decease of her Lord, gave such a blow to the elasticity of her mind as a loss like this at her time of life was calculated to inflict. She had a fine bust of herself placed upon the tomb of her deceased husband, and the widowed bosom, in which his memory was enshrined, remained as cold to earthly passion as the insensible marble amidst the symbols of death.
During Lord Huntingdon’s life, her Ladyship’s means of usefulness were necessarily circumscribed. Yet all that she possessed was expended in promoting the extension of the Redeemer’s kingdom, or in relieving the temporal distress of the indigent. Unlike the summer bird, which flies on the first approach of the winter’s storm, the chilly blasts of adversity had peculiar attractions for her benevolent heart. The beautiful description of an amiable writer was not more applicable to his deceased friend, than to his illustrative personage: “She was seen wherever disappointment and losses had left nothing but the attraction of misery. She and the selfish crew were sure to meet very near the door--_they_ leaving their friends when they found nothing more was to be enjoyed, and _she_ hastening thither as soon as she found something was necessary to be done.”
Lady Huntingdon was left a widow in the thirty-ninth year of her age, with the entire management of her children and their fortunes, which she carefully attended to, and improved with the greatest fidelity. Her family affairs necessarily occupied her attention during Lord Huntingdon’s life; but now, become her own mistress by the demise of his Lordship, she resolved to devote herself wholly to the service of Christ and to the souls redeemed by his blood.
Few characters have been more erroneously estimated by the world than that of Lady Huntingdon. She was, in fact, neither the gloomy fanatic, the weak visionary, nor the abstracted devotee which different parties have delighted to paint her.
The circumstance of her having forbidden the publication of her papers, and her retired mode of life, for even her charities were principally distributed through the medium of her chaplains, were the causes that baffled the curiosity of those who felt desirous of discovering the motives which could tempt a woman to resign the allurements of fashion, frivolity, and high station, and to devote upwards of _a hundred thousand pounds_ during her life for the extension of peculiar religious opinions: and that too without any view towards the personal distinction which has been too often a leading inducement with the founders of new sects.
Instead of giving way to unavailing grief under this afflicting bereavement, or suffering her mind to prey upon itself in seclusion, Lady Huntingdon endeavoured to find comfort in affliction by those unremitting exertions for the extension of divine truth which characterised every part of her life. The first six months of her widowhood were spent at Donnington Park, which she continued to occupy till the young Earl of Huntingdon became of age. The members of the little societies in her neighbourhood were perpetually in her thoughts, and her heart was penetrated with the most lively concern for their welfare. Although her endeavours during this season of affliction were chiefly exercised for their spiritual benefit, yet was her heart enlarged also toward all the children of God, by whatever name they were distinguished, or wherever the bounds of their habitation were fixed.
The consolations of friendship were highly valued by the Countess. To her most excellent friend, Sir John Thorold, she expressed herself deeply indebted for the paternal interest which he took in her concerns, and his unremitting exertions for the improvement of her children’s fortunes. Sir John was a man of piety, and the early and steady friend of her deceased Lord.[36]
From this period Lady Huntingdon’s devotion to Christ was sincere and unreserved. Whatever she had formerly admired and pursued, she now voluntarily laid at the feet of her Lord: and dedicated her time, her studies, her acquisitions, and her substance to the service of God, and the furtherance of his cause in the world; desiring at once to present him with her whole being, as a living sacrifice, expressive of her entire devotion. She had no interest to serve, no inclination to gratify, nor any connection to maintain, but such as was necessary to prove the sincerity of her zeal, or the fervour of her love. Wherever she appeared, she breathed the spirit of devotion; and wherever she was familiarly known, the purity, the fervour, the resolution, and the constancy of that devotion were universally apparent. Possessed of that faith which “overcometh the world,” she beheld it with the feelings of her tempted Master; anxious for its good, but despising its yoke; prepared to labour in its service, but resolute to reject its rewards; deaf to its promises, blind to its prospects, and dead to its enjoyments.
Wherever she was called by the providence of God, she was acknowledged as a “burning and shining light.” The common lights of Christianity were eclipsed before her; and even her spiritual friends could never stand in her presence, without being overwhelmed with a consciousness of their own inferiority and unprofitableness. Amongst innumerable instances which might be adduced, I shall merely add the testimony of the late excellent Mr. Toplady, who considered her Ladyship “the most precious saint of God he ever knew.” The following letters to Dr. Doddridge, written at this period, prove the love and veneration which he had for a character of such inestimable worth; and while they exhibit her extraordinary zeal for the glory of God, which blazed forth with such undiminished fervour through every stage of her existence, and continued with unabated vigour till removed to her eternal rest, will cause every reader to blush at his own ingratitude and luke-warmness.
“February 23, 1747.
“My very worthy and much-esteemed Friend--I would not lose the opportunity of conveying my enquiries after you, and most thankfully acknowledging your letters, for one of which, I find, I am obliged to a mistake.
“As there is nothing you either write or do that I am not interested for, you must forgive my reminding you that so faithful a minister of the glorious Gospel not only merits our highest regards, but our many blessings also. I hope you will comfort me by all the accounts you can gather of the flourishing and spreading of the glad tidings. O! how do I lament the weakness of my hands, the feebleness of my knees, and coolness of my heart. I want it on fire always, not for self-delight, but to spread the Gospel from pole to pole. Pray for me, my very excellent friend, and cause others to do so. I dread slack hands in the vineyard: we must be all up and doing; the Lord is at hand, and let us not lose the things we have wrought, but labour and exhort each other to diligence and faithfulness. O! my friend, we shall reap plentifully if we faint not: it is thinking of your unwearied labours that inspires even so dead a heart as mine at this moment with great earnestness; and I want words to tell you what shall be your reward: all I can say is, it is not less than Infinite Bounty which is to pay you.”
“March 15th, 1747.
“My most excellent Friend--I have so sincere a regard for you, that I own it would flatter me to have you think it long since you heard from me. Company, some business, and my weak body, make my writing often to be attended with difficulty. I wished much to have been earlier in my acknowledgments of your last than usual, as it gave not only all that spirit of Christian friendship that I now am honoured by from you, but the consolation of assuring me you have hopes of finding out a youth who may be thought worthy, from pious disposition and education, for the ministry. What contribution will be wanting from me towards this purpose, I beg you will let me know, and my excellent friend may depend upon my utmost gratitude for this high honour vouchsafed me: I feel my mite is cast into the treasury of God; and O! inexpressible consolation! that he in his love is sending these calls to poor, vile, and unworthy me. My heart wants nothing so much as to dispense _all_--_all_ for the glory of Him whom my soul loveth.
“I have ventured to send you a letter written by a young lady upon the death of her sister, but with perfect confidence that you will communicate it to _no one but_ Mrs. Doddridge, and that you will be so good as to return it. A most wonderful conversion, and it has had the same effect upon both the sisters left behind! I knew it would make your gracious heart glad, as many incidents lately happening would do, could I enumerate all. O! many prophets and religious men have desired to see those days, and have not seen them: great, great is the power of the Lord, and for ever glorified be his name. Some important time is coming: O might I hope it is that time when all things shall be swallowed up by the enlightening and comforting displays of our glorious Redeemer’s kingdom; when love shall be the burning language of the heart, and every soul be longing for the moment of his appearing. My hopes are not only full of immortality, but of this. Your works are blessed, and God is making you a polished shaft in his quiver. I want everybody to pray with you, and for you, that you may wax stronger and stronger. I have had a letter from Lord Bolingbroke, who thus says--‘I desire my compliments and thanks to Dr. Doddridge, and hope I shall continue to deserve his good opinion.’
“I am strongly baited to have some advice about my health: it seems good enough for me, but not for my children, and my sister, who is now with me, and who is very unhappy to see me so weak and ill. In submission, I have consented to apply to one of the faculty, and I have desired that it may be Dr. Stonhouse, of your town, who is the only person to be sent for to me, whenever I should be so ill as to be thought in any immediate danger: and, till then, his advice taken upon my case.
“I have this day received a fresh mark of your unwearied pains and thoughts about me. Alas! could you know those sighs and tears I am continually offering through the weakness and unprofitableness of my life, they would speak cruel and bitter answers to the tender care of all my dear friends. I often look to that bed which promises me a refuge from an evil world, and from a yet more evil heart; but how does it bound, as the roe or hind over the mountains, when that all-transporting view presents itself--presents, O glorious! an eternity of joy, to follow this glad release from time; everlasting triumphs sounding throughout the angelic thrones to welcome my arrival. Such love and pity dwell in heaven, and only there, for misery and poverty like mine. What liberty to delight in that which is most excellent! How enlarged those faculties which can take in celestial purity, and, by sweet attraction, engage and eternally maintain a union with it! Thus do I look on death; he is called a monster, a king of terrors, but as a Gabriel’s salutation shall my soul meet him: he can bring no other message to the redeemed in Christ, but, ‘Hail, thou who art highly favoured of the Lord!’ and though it is true so great a stranger may surprise for a little, yet his smiles of victory will clear even the grievance of flesh and blood, and make the grave appear a consecrated dormitory for sweet repose. O glorious Emmanuel! how, how do I long for that immortal voice to praise thee with; and till then, that mortal one which may sound through earth thy love to man!
“The post will not let me say more. I am happy in writing to you, as I find so perfect a liberty in my mind as causes me to rejoice. My kindest services to Mrs. Doddridge and your daughters; thank them a thousand times for their thoughts about me; and live assured of the most unfeigned esteem and highest regard of your most unworthy friend, who hopes to continue to all eternity, ever, ever your friend,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
The following allusion to the malignity of popular persecution must be deeply interesting:--
“May 21, 1747.
“My excellent Friend--I delivered your letter to our friend, who was here, and read it with pleasure and joy, as all that comes from you occasions to those who love our Lord in sincerity. We have prayed earnestly together for you, and recommended, just before we parted, the young man.
“My heart is the same; I drag about a painful companion, and yet I am quite satisfied to do so: how long it may last I know not. Our affronts and persecutions here, for the world’s sake, are hardly to be described.
But, alas, these are among those honours that should not be mentioned by me: that so unworthy a mortal should thus be favoured by so loving a Father ought to make me bow down with confusion of face that he should regard me. Many secret and shameful enemies of the Gospel, by His will, appear; the particulars would amuse you, and, blessed be God, they rejoice me, as good must follow from it. They called out in the open streets for me, saying, if they had me, they would tear me to pieces, &c.; but, alas! this does but prove that it is the Lord that offends them, and so must He continue to the unregenerate heart. In haste I must assure you how sincerely and affectionately I remain your obliged friend,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
Other letters of interest we are compelled to omit; one, written on the eve of her sister’s[37] departure for Shropshire, when Lady Bentley was also to leave her, is conceived in a spirit of extreme humility, gratitude, and affection, and of intense longing for relief from the burden of the flesh.
Lady Huntingdon’s health, although she had a partial recovery, soon began to decline, and her disorder to increase, to an alarming degree. Dr. Stonhouse was sent for; but her complaint increasing rather than abating, he wisely recommended her to go, as soon as convenient, to Bath, as the most likely means to restore her. On her way thither, she spent some days with her sister, Lady Kilmorey, in Shropshire. A letter to Dr. Doddridge, written about this time, sufficiently manifests the blessed state of her mind during the season of affliction, and expresses the humility and faith of this illustrious woman:--
“Bath, Nov. 1747.
“I hope you will never care about the ceremony of time in your letters to me, but just when attended with the greatest ease to yourself, as we both agree in this sentiment, that the one thing worth living for must be, the proclaiming the love of God to man in Jesus Christ; so all calls for that end will secure my approbation for your silence.
“I am nothing--Christ is all; I disclaim, as well as disdain, any righteousness but his. I not only rejoice that there is no wisdom for his people but that from above, but reject every pretension to any but what comes from himself. I want no holiness he does not give me, and I could not accept a heaven he did not prepare me for: I can wish for no liberty but what he likes for me, and I am satisfied with every misery he does not redeem me from; that in all things I may feel that without him I can do nothing. To sit at his feet and hearken to his sayings is an honour worthy of Gabriel, who is always in the presence of God; to behold the glory of such a Saviour even the seraphs might veil their faces--such love and honour, I say, as this, ought to make us breathe his praises from pole to pole. Many are our enemies, and of these, not only our own sins, but the spirit of that world in which dwells nothing but wretchedness; but while it is through his love that we are to conquer, let the patience of his saints be seen in us; let our prayers and labours be useful (instrumentally) in obtaining crowns of pure gold to be placed on the heads of our most cruel foes; that the infinite evil of the worst may serve only to raise our hearts to heaven for their infinite good. Did we enough take root downward, we should bear more of this fruit upwards: ’tis humility must make us ascend by the fiery chariot: that Divine Being (whom my soul most delights in) shows me my lesson in these few words, ‘Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly.’
“My family consists of two sons and as many daughters; for all of them I have nothing to do but to praise God. The children of so many prayers and tears, I doubt not, shall one day be blest, your prayers for us all helping. The hint you gave me is great matter of joy to me; my soul longeth for grace. To preach Christ and his blessing upon repentance over the earth is the commission--the event must be with him; all else is from man, and of man: He must gather and unite the faithful, since it is He alone who sits in heaven that may instruct the heart for His purposes. At present the more the little leaven is hid in all, the more of the whole will be leavened. Parties and divisions have ever been the stumbling-blocks of the weak; if we were altogether with the Lord, as watchmen for him, calling day and night in order only to prepare the materials, we need not be fearful, for the city would be established and prevail upon the earth; but this having always been attempted by man’s power, and so little in grace, it hath come to nought. May the Lord give us _all_ such love, to live and to die to _Him_ and for _Him_ alone. I am, with most kind respects to Mrs. Doddridge, your most sincere, but weak and unworthy friend,
“S. HUNTINGDON.
“P.S. As I write from my heart, and not from my head, you may more easily forgive incorrectness when you meet with it.”
The learning, piety, candour, and politeness of Dr. Doddridge recommended him to the esteem and friendship of Lady Huntingdon; and her correspondence with him, from which the subjoined extracts are made, was continued up to the time of his death.
A letter from Dr. Watts to Dr. Doddridge, dated Nov. 1747, contains the following words:--
“Yesterday my Lady Hertford[38] gave me the honour of a letter, wherein she expresses a very high esteem and respect for you, as the author of the ‘Rise and Progress,’ and for your account of ‘Colonel Gardiner’s Life,’ which pleased her very much, and she tells me that I should let you know it.”
But it was reserved for Lady Huntingdon to be the means of introducing the Doctor to the correspondence of the Duchess. In one of her Ladyship’s letters she writes thus concerning this celebrated woman:--
“Reverend Sir--Since I wrote my last to you, I have received a letter from my beloved Duchess of Somerset, who thus writes concerning you--‘I should be very glad to see any sermons of Dr. Doddridge, and should look upon a letter from him as an honour, provided he will write to me as a person who wants both instruction and reproof, but not as one who has attained any share of that Christian piety and self-denial without which all pretensions to the name of a disciple are vain.’
“I could not satisfy myself till I had sent you the above, as it will not only encourage you to write to her, but show you how amiable and humble a disposition you have to address. I pray to God to improve this friendship to you both, and then I shall think myself of some service in life. You were so good as to design for us a parcel, which I shall be glad to receive, as there is nothing you either write or do but I am interested in. You must forgive my reminding you, that so faithful a minister of the Gospel not only merits our highest regards, but our many blessings also.
“My kindest respects to Mrs. Doddridge, and the young gentleman who was with you here, and to Mr. Jones, whom I shall be extremely glad to see whenever he has an opportunity of coming my way. Live assured of the most sincere regard of a very unworthy, but truly faithful and obliged friend,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
Lady Huntingdon had diligently studied the Gospel, and had just ideas of the extent and importance of Christian liberty. She had impartially examined the controversy between the Dissenters and the Church of England, and thought it her duty to adhere to the latter. But she was desirous to countenance and encourage all those who appeared to have the interest of religion much at heart, and to be zealous to instruct and save souls, though they were of different persuasions from herself. Her generous heart never confined truth and goodness to one particular sect, nor in any other respect appeared bigoted to that, or uncharitable to those who differed from her. She rejoiced when she met with worthy ministers of moderate principle; thought herself happy in the intimate friendship of some of them; and maintained a regular correspondence with others. She always spoke of them in the most respectful terms, frequently invited them to her house, and did them all the service in her power, as she believed they acted agreeably to the convictions of their own consciences. Dr. Doddridge was eminently a man of candour and liberality. A rigid spirit, and a stiffness about things non-essential, he very much disliked; he entertained a high opinion of the piety and zeal of many of those clergymen of the Church of England who were stigmatized as Methodists. He had seen the good effects of their itinerant labours in his own neighbourhood--he had heard of more, and on unquestionable authority; and this left him no room to doubt that God had owned them. He was well aware that there was some enthusiasm among them, and much among their followers; but he was nevertheless fully convinced that they were eminently useful in rousing the attention of the careless and indifferent to the great things of eternity; in leading them to read and study the Scriptures, and attend religious worship in places where they might be better instructed and edified. Many friendly and faithful admonitions he gave them, and it was no inconsiderable evidence of the humility and candour of some of the great leaders of Methodism, particularly Mr. Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon, with whom he was more congenial in sentiment, that they desired him freely to tell them what he thought amiss in their sentiments and conduct, and that they received his admonitions with thankfulness. He endeavoured to show them their errors and to regulate their zeal, which he thought a more friendly part, and more becoming a Christian minister, than to revile and ridicule them. As they saw the common people struck and captivated with their address and appearance of zeal, he wished their wiser brethren would plainly and seriously teach the Gospel, take due care of the souls committed to them, labour more abundantly in their Master’s work, and thereby secure yet greater popularity and acceptance by means which they themselves must think just and laudable; for these he thought it their duty to use, whatever their particular sentiments and stations were.
About the month of May, 1748, Lady Huntingdon and her daughters, accompanied by Lady Anne and Lady Frances Hastings, left Bath, where they had been staying some considerable time, on a tour through Wales. It is a matter of regret that so little information can now be obtained of her Ladyship’s journey into a part of the kingdom where she was destined in after years to reap a harvest so abundant. From the scanty materials, however, which remain, an imperfect and irregular journal in the handwriting of Lady Frances Hastings, we are informed that Lady Huntingdon was met at Bristol by Mr. Howel Harris, Mr. Griffith Jones, Mr. Daniel Rowlands, and Mr. Howel Davies, all of whom accompanied her into the principality. They appear to have travelled slowly, taking short stages every day. For fifteen days successively two of the ministers that accompanied her Ladyship preached in some town or village through which they passed, by which means the seed of divine truth was widely scattered over a large extent of country. In Cardiganshire her Ladyship was visited by the Rev. Philip Pugh, a Dissenting minister, eminent for his piety, diligence, and success. On their arrival at Trevecca, in Brecknockshire, they were joined by several of the awakened clergymen, particularly Mr. William Williams, Mr. Thomas Lewis, Mr. Penry Baillie, Mr. John Powel, and Mr. Thomas Jones; also by some of the exhorters, or lay-preachers, and some pious and laborious Dissenting ministers, amongst whom Mr. John Watkins, Mr. Lewis Jones, of Glamorganshire, and Mr. Lewis Rees, from North Wales, were the most notable. Her Ladyship remained a few days at Trevecca, which exactly twenty years after became her chief residence and scene of action. Whilst there, they had preaching four or five times a day, to immense crowds who had collected from all the adjacent country. “The divine influence of the Spirit of God (says Lady Frances) was very evidently afforded with his word, and many were added unto the Lord’s people.” On one occasion, when Mr. Griffith Jones preached in a large field from that passage in the fortieth chapter of the prophecies of Isaiah, “What shall I cry?” there was an extraordinary manifestation of the grace and power of God over the assembled multitude, so that many were deeply convinced of their misery and guilt, and cried aloud in the most awful manner. When the sermon was ended, Lady Huntingdon enquired of many of those who had been so affected, the cause of their loud and bitter cries. Most of them replied, “that they were so powerfully and deeply convinced of their sinfulness and awful condition in the sight of God, that they were afraid he never would have mercy on them.” The people in general, through the whole assembly, seemed greatly bowed down and humbled before the Lord, and many said, “they should never forget the time when God was so gracious unto them.”
On another occasion, when Mr. Rowlands preached at a small town in Carmarthenshire, God accompanied the word in a very powerful manner. “It was remarkable at this season (observes Lady Frances) that as sinners were generally under a most distressing sense of their guilt, so the people of God were sensibly refreshed and comforted. Their souls were magnifying the Lord, and rejoicing in God their Saviour, who hath done such great things for them; while others in distressing agony were crying out, ‘_Men and brethren what shall we do?_’”
Accompanied by Mr. Howel Harris and Mr. Howel Davies, Lady Huntingdon left Wales, and arrived in London on the 15th June, a few weeks before Mr. Whitefield’s return from America. Her Ladyship was both gratified and refreshed by what she witnessed in the principality. “On a review of all I have seen and heard, during the last few weeks (says the Countess), I am constrained to exclaim, ‘Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me bless his holy name.’ The sermons were in general lively and awakening, containing the most solemn and awful truths--such as the utter ruin of man by the fall, and his redemption and recovery by the Lord Jesus Christ, the energetic declaration of which produced great and visible effects in many. I enquired the meaning of the outcry which sometimes spread through the congregation, and when informed that it arose from a deep conviction of sin working powerfully on the awakened conscience, I could not but acknowledge, ‘_This is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes_.’ Many, on these solemn occasions, there is reason to believe, were brought out of nature’s deepest darkness into the marvellous light of the all-glorious Gospel of Christ. My earnest prayer to God for them is, that they may continue in his grace and love: and, with full purpose of heart, cleave unto the Lord, approve themselves the true and faithful disciples of a crucified Saviour, and through manifold temptations, opposition, and reproach, be enabled to press toward the mark for the high prize of the calling of God in Christ Jesus.”
Not long after her Ladyship’s return to London, Dr. Doddridge paid a visit to the metropolis. During his stay he was very frequently at Lady Huntingdon’s house. In a letter to Mrs. Doddridge he says:--
“I can conclude with telling you that I am now come to the conclusion of one of the most pleasant days I shall ever spend without you. After an hour’s charming conversation with Lady Huntingdon and Mrs. Edwin, I preached in her family, by express desire, and met Colonel Gumley, who is really a second Colonel Gardiner. Such a monument of the power and sovereignty of divine grace as, truly, I have hardly met with since I was acquainted with his story. After dinner, the ladies entertained us with their voices and a harpsichord, with which I was highly delighted: and I have stolen a hymn, which I steadfastly believe to be written by good Lady Huntingdon, and which I shall not fail to communicate to you.
* * * * *
“Lady Huntingdon is quite a mother to the poor; she visits them and prays with them in their sicknesses; and they leave their children to her for a legacy when they die, and she takes care of them. I was really astonished at the traces of religion I discovered in her and Mrs. Edwin,[39] and cannot but glorify God for them. More cheerfulness I never saw intermingled with devotion. Lady Frances Gardiner sets out on Tuesday next: I have taken my leave of her.”