CHAPTER XIX.

Death of the Hon. Henry Hastings--Lady Huntingdon’s exertions at Brighton--Joseph Wall--Mr. Whitefield’s First Visit to Brighton--Lady Huntingdon sells her Jewels--The Chapel opened by Mr. Madan--Mr. Romaine--Oathall--Captain Scott--Anecdotes--Old Abraham--Letters from Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Romaine--Christian Perfection--Mr. Maxfield and Mr. Bell--Letter from Mr. Romaine--Mr. Madan--Letters from Messrs. Berridge, Romaine, and Venn--Mr. Jones (of St. Saviour’s).

The Hon. Henry Hastings, fourth son of the Countess of Huntingdon, was born December 12, 1739, and departed this life at Brighton, September 13, 1757, aged eighteen. The only record of this event is found in the following extract from a letter of Mr. Whitefield to Lady Huntingdon:--

“I burnt, but I believe I shall never forget the contents of your Ladyship’s letter. Who but the Redeemer himself can possibly describe the yearnings of such a tender parent’s heart? Surely your Ladyship is called to cut off a right hand and pluck out a right eye; ‘_but it is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good_.’ This was the language of Eli, whose sons were sinners before the Lord exceedingly. This hath often been the case with the best of people and the greatest favourites of heaven; but none know the bitterness of such a cup but those who are called to drink it. If not sweetened with a sense of the love and mercy of God in Christ, who could abide it? O! what physic, what strong physic, do our strong affections oblige our Heavenly Father to give us! What pruning knives do these luxuriant branches require, in order to preserve the fruit and delicacy of the vine! Blessed be God, there is a time coming when these mysterious, dignified providences shall be explained. I am glad Mr. L. is with your Ladyship; he has a friendly heart. May the Lord Jesus raise up your Ladyship many comforters! Above all, may he come himself. He will--he will! O! that I could bear your heavy load! But I can only, in my feeble way, bear it on my heart, before Him who came to heal our sicknesses and bear our infirmities. That your Ladyship may come out of these fiery trials, purged and purified like the brightest gold, is the earnest prayer of, ever honoured Madam, your most dutiful, obliged, sympathizing, and ever ready servant for Christ’s sake,

“G. WHITEFIELD.”

The illness of her son had brought the Countess from her house in Park-street to Brighton, where, during her stay, she felt seriously concerned for the spiritual interests of its inhabitants, and especially for the company that frequented that place of fashionable resort, and used her utmost exertions to bestow upon them some spiritual gift, by carrying to the houses of the nobility and the poor the welcome tidings of salvation through faith in a crucified Redeemer.

In the course of her ever-frequent visits of mercy and benevolence at Brighton, she entered the lodgings of a soldier’s wife who had been delivered of twins; and having first relieved the temporal wants of the poor woman, conversed with her on spiritual subjects, affectionately pointing her to the Fountain of atoning blood opened in the clefts of the “Rock of Ages.” In the performance of this duty, her Ladyship displayed an admirable mixture of discretion and zeal, solemnity and sweetness; and no sooner did she begin to speak of her awful state, by nature and by practice, and the imminent danger of her soul, if she died unpardoned, unrenewed, unwashed in the Saviour’s blood, than the poor soldier’s wife burst into a flood of tears under a sense of her guilt and misery, and began to call on the Lord with all the earnestness of which her dying frame was capable; and manifesting an anxious desire to hear more of that precious salvation which is provided for the guilty and the lost, she induced the Countess to repeat her visits. The apartment was contiguous to a public bakehouse, and the people that came to the oven heard, through a crack in the partition, her Ladyship conversing on spiritual subjects. This soon became noised abroad, and other poor women, feeling a desire to hear such things, attended at the lodgings of the soldier’s wife at appointed times for that purpose. Her usual method was to converse with them about the one thing needful, to read and expound the Scriptures, and to pray with them. In a little time the number of her hearers increased, and as often as they could be collected she joyfully proclaimed to them the unsearchable riches of Christ. The affectionate and fervent manner in which she addressed them was an affecting proof of the interest she took in their spiritual concerns. There was an energy in her manner that was irresistible. Her subject--her language--her gestures--the tone of her voice--and the turn of her countenance, all conspired to fix the attention and affect the heart.

On one of these occasions, a blacksmith, named Joseph Wall, a man notorious for his profligacy, having been directed to the place of meeting, obtained admittance, though none but females had hitherto attended. Lady Huntingdon coming in, felt much surprise at seeing him in a corner of the room, and hesitated in her mind whether to request him to withdraw, or to refrain from speaking to him. At length she determined to take no notice of him, and to proceed in her usual course (which she considered was the path of duty), by praying with these poor women, and setting before them the “things which accompany salvation.” The word thus spoken was applied by the power of the Holy Spirit to the heart of Joseph Wall, and from that time he became a distinguished monument of the power of divine grace, so that all who knew him were constrained to acknowledge the marvellous change. For a period of twenty-nine years he adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour by a life of holiness, and through every period of his religious life appeared as a pilgrim and stranger in the world. He told a friend, a day or two before his departure for glory, “that he longed to be dissolved, that he was very happy, had not a doubt of his salvation, and would not change his state with the king.” About two hours before he expired, every breath appearing as though it would be the last, his lips were observed to move, and his anxious and affectionate daughter, bending her head, heard him slowly but distinctly utter--“Come, Lord Jesus! come quickly!” The Great Shepherd of the people heard and answered his prayer, and took him to the heavenly fold the latter end of June, 1786.

While the Countess was thus usefully and actively engaged, a gentlewoman, who lived in the vicinity of Brighton, dreamed that a tall lady, whose dress she particularly noticed, would come to that town, and be the means of doing much good. It was about three years after this dream that Lady Huntingdon went down thither. One day the above person met her Ladyship in the street, and on seeing her exclaimed, “O, Madam, you are come!” Lady Huntingdon, surprised at the singularity of such an address from an entire stranger, thought at first the woman was deranged. “What do you know of me?” asked the Countess. “Madam (replied the person), I saw you in a dream three years ago, dressed just as you appear now;” and related the whole of the dream to her. In consequence of the acquaintance which was then formed between them, Lady Huntingdon was made instrumental in her conversion, and she died about a year afterwards in the confidence of faith.

It was thus that her zeal and piety prepared the way for the more public ministrations of Mr. Whitefield, who visited Brighton in the year 1759, and at first preached under a tree in a field behind the White Lion Inn.[168]

The awakened people began to increase in numbers, and a small Christian society was afterwards established, whose members met for prayer and praise, and the reading of the Scriptures. This promising state of things induced Lady Huntingdon to erect a small but neat chapel contiguous to her house, on the site of the present one in North-street, the expense of which she either wholly, or in part, defrayed by the sale of her jewels, to the amount of six hundred and ninety-eight pounds fifteen shillings.[169]

The chapel was opened in the summer of 1761, by the Rev. Martin Madan. To Mr. Madan succeeded Messrs. Romaine, Berridge, Venn, and Fletcher, who severally took the charge of a congregation and people for whom they soon learned to cultivate the sincerest affection. Instant in season and out of season, these apostolic men diligently performed the work of evangelists, and lost no opportunity of proclaiming the unsearchable riches of Christ. Here, as in other places, they laboured together for the welfare of the Church of God; and as they worshipped often together in the courts below, they are now doubtless worshipping in the courts above, and enjoying the felicity of those, “who, having turned many to righteousness, shall shine as the stars for ever and ever.”

No sooner had these apostolic men unfolded the standard of the true cross, than a violent clamour was raised against them and their doctrines, and frequent attempts were made to intimidate them from preaching and teaching Jesus Christ. But, regardless of the torrents of reproach which were continually rolling on them from every quarter, they prosecuted their labours in the most undaunted manner; and the Great Head of the Church bore testimony to the words of his servants, and confirmed it by awakening and converting many souls under their ministry. If God will work, none can let it; the cause is his, and he must and will conquer; and any instrument is sufficient, though it were but the jaw-bone of an ass, when the Spirit of the Lord comes upon the appointed Samson.

The connexion of Mr. Romaine with the Countess of Huntingdon, as her chaplain, exhibits the interesting picture of two characters of exalted excellence striving together for the hope of the Gospel--the one by her influence and wealth, the other by his zeal and diligence. And, to the honour of Mr. Romaine, his long and active labours were without the least expectation of any remuneration; and all he ever got from Lady Huntingdon barely paid his journeys and his expenses. Notwithstanding the basest stories, neither he nor Mr. Whitefield were ever a shoe-latchet the richer for any service done her Ladyship. Not that this is meant to impeach her boundless liberality: never perhaps did mortal make a nobler use of what she possessed: her time, her talents, her soul and body were consecrated to God. She knew that it was laudable to feed the hungry and clothe the naked: but all inferior considerations seemed to be lost in her superior concern for the everlasting happiness of perishing mortals.

“Never (says the late Rev. John Eyre, one of her senior ministers) shall I lose the strong impression which was made on my mind in a conversation I had with her about the wants of a family who appeared to be in great distress:--‘I can do for them (said she) but very little. I am obliged to be a spectator of miseries which I pity, but cannot relieve. For when I gave myself up to the Lord, I likewise devoted to him all my fortune; with this reserve, that I would take with a sparing hand what might be necessary for my food and raiment, and for the support of my children, should they live to be reduced. I was led to this (continued she) from a consideration, that there were many benevolent persons who had no religion, who would feel for the temporal miseries of others, and help them; but few, even among professors, who had a proper concern for the awful condition of ignorant and perishing souls. What, therefore, I can save for a while out of my own necessaries, I will give them; but more I dare not take without being guilty of sacrilege.’”

The value of such a life can never be ascertained till the heavens and the earth be no more. And then, when temporal happiness and misery shall have vanished like the illusion of a dream, thousands and tens of thousands will be thankful that she lived so long the faithful servant of God, and the happy instrument of their conversion. All could see her zeal and her devotion, but herself. The Churches of Christ honoured her as the chief of saints, but she always confessed herself to be the chief of sinners. Her life was a better comment than all that was ever written by expositors on those words of Christ, “Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, that when ye fail they may receive you into everlasting habitations.” What an innumerable multitude, who had never seen her face in the flesh, were waiting with rapture to receive her happy spirit into mansions of everlasting glory!

Another house of prayer was the next work of her Ladyship’s hands. An old gentleman of the name of Warden, a justice of the peace for the county of Sussex, a man well known, then occupied the mansion of Oathall, which had formerly belonged to a branch of the house of Shirley,[170] from which her Ladyship descended. Hearing of her wish to carry the Gospel into the wilds of Sussex, he waited on her at Brighton, and offered to let her the house for a term of years for the very purpose she meditated. The agreement was immediately adjusted, she entered upon the premises--fitted up a large hall for the chapel, and furnished the upper rooms for her own residence, and for the ministers she brought with her. There, Messrs. Romaine, Venn, Madan, Berridge, Shirley, Townsend, Toplady, and Haweis, with many others, yielded their services, and there were they blessed with some singular tokens of divine favour, among a people in whom much of the simplicity of the Gospel was apparent.

Captain Scott, son of Richard Scott, Esq., of Betton, in the county of Salop, an ancient and highly respectable family, having received a polite education, embraced the profession of arms in his seventeenth year. He began his military career as cornet, and was promoted to the rank of Captain in the 7th regiment of Dragoons. He was present at the famous battle fought near Minden, on the 1st of August, 1759, attached to the cavalry of the right wing, commanded by Lord George Sackville.

The danger to which, as a soldier, he was exposed, was seriously impressed upon his mind. This led to a train of thought and a succession of resolutions, which appear to have been preparatory to his acquiring self-knowledge, to his reception of the Gospel, and which eventually led to the conversion of his soul.

It was daily his practice (though felt as a toilsome duty) to read the psalms and lessons of the day--a practice well known to his brother officers: but as his conduct in other respects conformed to theirs, they gave him no opposition, but were used pleasantly to ask him, “Well, Scott, have you read your psalms and lessons to-day?” But while he continued to strive to make himself righteous by his own works, he necessarily laboured in vain. Happening to be quartered somewhere in the neighbourhood of Oathall, and being out on a shooting party, he was driven by a storm for cover to the house of a farmer, with whom some horses of the regiment were at grass. There he found several labourers, who had taken shelter in the same cottage. The farmer being a pious man, and Captain Scott happening at this time to be in one of his “religious fits,” as he was accustomed to call his periods of good resolution, he entered into conversation, and heard him speak on divine subjects in a way that astonished him. This naturally produced the enquiry, where they had collected their information and the sentiments they expressed. They told him at the hall yonder, where there was now a very famous man, a Mr. Romaine, preaching for Lady Huntingdon, and they importunately invited him to come and hear for himself. This he determined to do the following Sunday. Thither he accordingly repaired, and he was particularly struck with the neatness and solemnity which pervaded the congregation, as well as with the impressive manner in which the service was conducted. Mr. Romaine preached on our Lord’s words, in John xiv. 6--“_I am the way_.” The truth then delivered was exactly suited to the case of Captain Scott; and God, who, in his good providence, had brought him to hear it, by the power of his grace made it effectual to the everlasting benefit of his soul. From that time the happy change commenced for which hundreds have since had reason to bless God, who have been called under his ministry.

He continued a soldier, but his altered conduct exposed him to many annoyances in the army; and as he was marching through Leicester with his regiment, he opened his commission as a minister of the Lord Jesus Christ. A pious person, to whom he was introduced, having, probably, been informed of his usefulness in holding meetings with some of the men in his regiment, put him into a parlour, and left him with no other company but a Bible, a hymn-book, and his God, telling him that he must preach there that evening. He complied with the earnest request, and thus entered into that work to which the Great Head of the Church had chosen him, and in which he honoured him with abundant success.

Having put his hand to the plough, he never turned back, but preached in his regimentals wherever he was stationed. Mr. Fletcher, in a letter to Lady Huntingdon, says--

“I went last Monday to meet Captain Scott, one of the first-fruits that have grown for the Lord at Oathall--a captain of the truth--a bold soldier of Jesus Christ. God hath thrown down before him the middle wall of bigotry, and he boldly launches into an irregular usefulness. For some months he has exhorted his dragoons daily; for some weeks he hath preached publicly at Leicester, in the Methodist meeting-house, in his regimentals, to numerous congregations, with good success. The stiff regular ones pursue him with hue and cry, but I believe he is quite beyond their reach. God keep him zealous and simple! I believe this _red-coat_ will shame many a black one. I am sure he shames me.”

In a subsequent letter he adds:--

“Captain Scott set out last Monday for York, after making a great stir for good in Shrewsbury--he hath been a prophet to several in his own country.”

Mr. Whitefield gave some account of him in the Tabernacle pulpit, and said--

“I have invited the Captain to come to London, and bring his artillery to Tabernacle-rampart, and try what execution he can do here.”

He was one of the supplies there for upwards of _twenty_ years; and, it should be noticed, to the praise of Mr. Romaine’s liberality, that he not only gave him encouragement to preach, but was particularly active in bringing him to that place. A tremendous storm of thunder and lightning, which took place as he was entering London, was construed by him as a probable indication of the divine displeasure, and caused him to fear that the case of the old prophet misleading the young one was exemplified in his present circumstance. He, however, persevered, and came to the Tabernacle, where an immense congregation was assembled to hear him; but when the season for addressing them arrived, he was absorbed in tears, and his utterance completely failed him; at length he became composed, and was enabled to deliver his message in a manner that laid the foundation of his future popularity in London.

After a while, Captain Scott sold his commission, and quitted the army for the ministry of the Gospel; and thus ended all the brilliant views of military rank and fame to which, had he continued in the army, he might have aspired. He was well qualified for a military command. His mind was fertile, his apprehension quick, his utterance ready, and his fortitude great. The way to worldly honour was open before him. He had a prospect of obtaining what was once the object of his highest ambition; but the great Sovereign of the world and the Church had destined him to more important services and higher honours than any that mere military heroes can ever perform or attain.

Another fruit of the ministry of her Ladyship’s chaplains at Oathall was an old man, called Abraham. He was born in Sussex; being an idle youth, he enlisted for a soldier, and after fifty years’ service, obtained his discharge, and with his wife settled near Oathall. He grew serious, sought after truth, attended at church, and, not quite satisfied with what he heard at home, went round to the neighbouring churches; but what he heard seemed very unsatisfactory and contradictory to what the Church prayers he read seemed to speak. Uncertain what was truth, he roamed about, till providentially the chapel opened by Lady Huntingdon at Oathall awakened attention; and though he did not like the Methodists, he resolved for once to go and hear. He was then just _a hundred years old_, but still hearty, and in the perfect use of his faculties. Mr. Venn was at that time with Lady Huntingdon, and preached at Oathall the morning old Abraham attended. The truth struck his mind with an evidence and power he had never before felt. He listened with the deepest attention and delight--he could hardly contain himself; and as soon as the service was ended, he laid his hand upon the shoulder of a neighbour who was next him, “Ah! (says he) neighbour, this is the very truth of God’s word which I have been seeking, and never heard it so plain before. Here will I abide.”

From that day his conversation bespoke the blessed Spirit he had received. He spoke of that day as the day of his birth, and used to say that he was a child born at a hundred years old. He attended all the ministers whom Lady Huntingdon sent, and continued to make happy advances in knowledge and experience. His age and white head made him very distinguished, and his conversation rendered him very precious to all the serious persons round the neighbourhood.

One day Lady Huntingdon was talking with him, and he was giving an account of his little trials to her:--“Ah, my Lady (says he), ’tis my grief that my old partner is a little too apt to run ahead sometimes: but I will tell ye what happened the other day--when that remarkable darkness and tempest came over us here, she was terribly frightened, and thought it was the day of judgment, and in she ran with an old gossip of hers, who was of her mind and against me, and down they fell upon their knees upon the floor, and said ‘Abraham, come and pray for us.’ So said I, ‘What is the matter, dame?’ ‘O (said she), it is the day of judgment! it is the day of judgment! Ar’n’t you afraid?’ ‘Afraid! no (said I); what should I be afraid of? If it is the day of judgment, then I shall see Christ Jesus my Lord, and that will be a joyful sight.’ So, my Lady, I began to sing a hymn. By and by the storm was over, and then they both forgot the fright it had put them in.” He died in the 106th year of his age, persevering in the Christian walk, and adorning the doctrine of our Saviour in all things; and, as a ripe sheaf in the day of harvest, was gathered into the bosom of our Saviour in peace by a gentle dissolution, old and full of days.

The summer of 1762 Lady Huntingdon spent principally in Yorkshire, where her active spirit was engaged in forming fresh plans for erecting the standard of Immanuel “amongst the thickest ranks of his enemies.” The “little cloud” at Brighton, which at the first was “no bigger than a man’s hand,” had gradually increased, and diffused such a copious shower of blessings as fertilized the hearts of many in that part of the vineyard. Anxious that the progress of the Gospel should still continue to increase--that the banner of redeeming love should be unfurled wider, and the sound of the Gospel trumpet wax louder and louder in that favoured place, she continued her exertions in procuring suitable supplies, and sought the aid of those apostolic labourers who were fired with zeal for their Master’s honour, to convey this best of blessings to the many yet enveloped in the shades of ignorance and perishing for lack of knowledge.

Mr. Fletcher was obliged to decline her Ladyship’s invitation, as will be seen by the following extract from a letter dated Madely, 26th July, 1762, and addressed to the Countess of Huntingdon, Knaresborough, Yorkshire. “I humbly thank you for your obliging invitation to wait for your Ladyship at Brighthelmstone. It was the more welcome, as it hath removed the fear I had that my wish was presumptuous. Hitherto I have been closely tied to my parish: no clergyman chose to have any intercourse with me, and I have not yet preached out of my church. Of late, blessed be the precious name of Jesus for it, the work deepens in the hearts of those that have been convinced, and I begin not to be at a loss for the company of some sincere fellow-travellers to our Jerusalem above. One is now entering that glorious city through the gate of death, with the steadiness of faith and the joy of hope which attended dear Mr. Jones[171] in his last moments. May our latter end be like theirs!”

Mr. Romaine says--

“I have so managed my matters as to be able to set out for Brighthelmstone on Monday morning next: and, God willing, shall stay there till Michaelmas. O! join your prayers with ours, that the Lord of the harvest would be with us, and bless our labours in this part of his harvest-field. By all accounts, the desires of the people are very pressing for my coming down to help them, which I hope is of the Lord’s doing, and is a good token for us. But be that as it will, it is ours to sow the seed--to rain and shine upon it, and to give the increase, is God’s part. To him we must leave it.

“I should be glad to hear from your Ladyship about any part of my work in Brighthelmstone, and anything you would have me to do relating to your house or affairs while I am there. It would be a pleasure to me to hear from you. I am, with my wishes for yours and Lady Selina’s health, your faithful friend and servant for the Lord’s sake,

“August 21, 1762. “W. ROMAINE.”

“I breakfasted this morning with Sir Charles Hotham, who is, I think, in good spirits, and all his friends.”

About this time Mr. Wesley’s doctrine of the perfection of the Christian character was taken up and carried to extravagant enthusiasm by several ministers, of whom Mr. Fletcher speaks in the following extract:--

“I have a particular regard for Maxfield and Bell; both of them are my correspondents, I am strongly prejudiced in favour of the witnesses, and do not willingly receive what is said against them; but allowing that what is reported is one half mere exaggeration, the tenth part of the rest shows that spiritual pride, presumption, arrogance, stubbornness, party spirit, uncharitableness, prophetic mistakes--in short, that _every sinew_ of enthusiasm is now at work in many of that body. I do not credit any one’s bare word, but I ground my sentiments on Bell’s own letters.

“May I presume, unasked, to lay before you my mite of observation? If I had it in my power to overlook the matter, as you have, would it be wrong in me calmly to sit down with some unprejudiced friends and lovers of both parties, and fix with them the marks and symptoms of enthusiasm; then insist, at first in love, and afterwards, if necessary, with all the weight of my authority, upon those who _have them_, or _plead for them_, either to stand to the sober rule of Christianity, or _openly_ to depart from us?”

Matters every day became more desperate; and when Mr. Maxfield was excluded from preaching in the chapels of Mr. Wesley, he took one for himself, and drew away several hundreds of the society. The conduct of George Bell and his followers drew great odium on the whole body of the Methodists. Their wildness and enthusiasm daily increasing, Lady Huntingdon hastened to London, to endeavour to stop the plague by every means in her power.

Her Ladyship had frequent opportunities of speaking to Mr. Maxfield and others: and her conversation seems to have had some effect upon that gentleman, for from that time he became more settled and more Calvinistic in his sentiments. Soon after the change in his opinions, he published an answer to Mr. Wesley’s Narrative, which Mr. Wesley was far from approving. “It was (says he) at the pressing instances of Mr. Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon that he wrote that wretched book against me.” Mr. Fletcher did not consider it a wretched performance, for, after a critical examination of it, he says--

“Mr. Maxfield’s reply to Mr. Wesley’s answer seems to me just in _some_ points, and in _others_ too severe. Mr. Wesley is, perhaps, too tenacious of some expressions, and too prone to credit what he wishes concerning some mistaken witnesses of the state of fathers in Christ. Mr. Maxfield, perhaps, esteems too little the inestimable privilege of being perfected in that love which casts out fear. But, in general, I conceive, if I do not presume of myself in answering your question, that it would be better for babes, or young men in Christ, to cry for a growth in grace, than to dispute whether fathers in Christ enjoy such or such privileges.”

Mr. Romaine’s visit to Brighton, and the effects of his ministry, were peculiarly useful at this time, for some of these enthusiastic notions on the doctrine of perfection, which had caused such mischief in London, had crept amongst the society there, and threatened to disturb the peace and tranquillity of the Church of Christ in that place. Mr. Romaine’s letter to Lady Huntingdon, dated Lambeth, Nov. 11th, 1762, details the particulars of what occurred on this occasion:--

“Madam--As you have got Mr. Madan down with you, I hope the Lord Christ will make his ministry useful, and that his stay may be as long as he chooses. I will undertake for any duty at the Lock, or for all the duty, if he would let Mr. Haweis go his intended journey. Although this be inconvenient for me, yet I don’t mind that. I find my heart very closely knit to the little church at Brighthelmstone, and would do anything to promote their true happiness. My love to them would turn inconvenience into a pleasure. Since I came to town several things have happened to make the people more dear to me than when I was among them. I find they are not to live long in peace--they are going on too well to meet with no disturbance. The enemy has begun to attack them, and has in part succeeded. He sees how safe they are while they make Jesus all their salvation and all their hope--and how happy while they live wholly by faith upon him; and this vexes old Satan. Since he cannot dethrone our exalted Head in heaven, he shows his malice against his members upon earth. The temptation with which, at this day, he disturbs them, is to hinder them from living upon Christ, as poor, needy, helpless sinners, and from finding by faith all they want in his fulness. This exalts the Saviour too much, and makes them too safe and happy; therefore Satan would persuade them to get riches, strength, and a clean heart, quite without sin in themselves; so that then they may look inward with complacency and delight, and look outwards on others of supposed smaller attainments with a ‘STAND BY--I AM HOLIER THAN THOU,’ and look upwards with a ‘_God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are_.’ Thus you see pride enters in, and Christ is thrust out.”

Mr. Madan appears to have remained at Brighton nearly three months, with much utility to the cause of God in that town. Desirous of supplying his place with the services of some able minister, her Ladyship wrote to Mr. Berridge, Mr. Romaine, and Mr. Venn, inviting them to Brighton, to proclaim the “unsearchable riches of Christ” to a rapidly increasing congregation.

Mr. Berridge says, in a letter dated Everton, Nov. 16, 1762--

“I cannot see my call to Brighthelmstone; and I ought to see it for myself, not another for me. Was any good done when I was there? It was God’s doing: all the glory be to him. This shows I did not then go without my Master, but it is no proof of a second call. Many single calls have I had to villages, when some good was done, but no further call. I am not well able to ride so long a journey, and my heart is utterly set against wheel-carriages in these roads. Indeed, I see not my call--I cannot think of the journey; and therefore pray your Ladyship to think no more of it. I write thus plainly, not out of forwardness I trust, but to save your Ladyship the trouble of sending a second request, and myself the pain of returning a second denial. You threaten me, Madam, like a pope, not like a mother in Israel, when you declare roundly that God will scourge me if I do not come: but I know your Ladyship’s good meaning, and this menace was not despised. It made me slow in resolving, and of course slow in writing; it made me also attend to the state of my own mind during its deliberation, which was as follows:--Whilst I was looking towards the sea, partly drawn thither with the hope of doing good, and partly driven by your _Vatican Bull_, I found nothing but thorns in my way; but as soon as I turned my eyes from it, I found peace; and now, whilst I am sending a peremptory denial, I feel no check or reproof within, which I generally do when I am not willing to go about my Master’s business.”

Mr. Venn observes, in a letter dated Huddersfield, December 10, 1762--

“In March or April I may be able to visit you and give you some little assistance. I do love to minister to the dear flock at Brighton; and, in order to do this, may the Spirit of God open the eyes of my understanding more and more to see my need of a Saviour, and to behold the suitableness, the freeness, and fulness of redemption, which was wrought out by the Lord of Life and Glory. O help me with your prayers, for truly I need them. I thank you ten thousand times for all your repeated marks of love and generosity to me and mine. Continue to pray for me, and the Lord will return it to you sevenfold.”

Mr. Romaine says, under date of Lambeth, Dec. 28, 1762--

“Dear Madam--I have received the enclosed in a letter from Mr. Grimshaw, and being engaged to preach on Saturday evening at the Lock, I could not send it till this day’s post. My heart and my prayers are with you; but the Lord does not make a way for me to visit you. To him I submit in this (although it be a great self-denial), as well as in other things. His will is always good, and it is always good for us to be resigned to it; but when the Spirit is willing, the flesh is often weak; therefore the Lord repeats lesson upon lesson, line upon line, to teach us to submit to his blessed and holy will. I am a poor dull scholar, but he is a kind Master, and through him I get on, though halting and slowly. Such am I, and such is he, that I can be telling of nothing else but of his salvation all the day long.

“I cannot forget the dear little church. I think they must be better for my fervent prayers. The Lord Christ keep them all, and add to their number. I hear Bateman has left you, but I have not seen her. This life itself is changing, and therefore we need not wonder all things in it change. But Jesus is the same--He changeth not; and the happiness derived from Him is the only unchanging happiness. May this be your portion and mine! More we cannot ask, more we cannot have. I am, with great respect, for the Lord’s sake, your servant.”

On the departure of Mr. Madan for London, his place was supplied by Mr. Fletcher, who continued some weeks at Brighton, and was succeeded by Mr. Howel Davies. The labours of these excellent men contributed, with the divine blessing, to the restoration of peace and the healing of those divisions which had caused Lady Huntingdon and her friends so much uneasiness and anxiety. By the recent death of Mr. Jones, of St. Saviour’s, she was deprived of a valuable and useful auxiliary in the great work in which she was engaged. He had often preached at her Ladyship’s in London, and she had calculated on his services at Brighton and Oathall. His first awakening was by the gradual working of the law upon his conscience; and his inward convictions of sin, wrought by the Spirit of God, were very deep and distressing. While under this concern Lady Huntingdon’s acquaintance with him first began; and her great intimacy and friendship gave her a constant opportunity of being a witness of God’s gracious dealings with his soul. He was greatly strengthened and established in the faith of the Gospel by her Ladyship’s advice and conversation. He had great gifts and great grace; and he needed both for the work to which Providence called him. His sweetness of natural temper, eminently great as it was, would never have supported him under the numberless insults he met with, had it not been strengthened, as well as adorned, by a sublimer influence. It was this, and only this, which enabled him to overcome evil with good, as well as to have, not the _form_ only, but the _power of godliness_.

“Dear Mr. Jones (observes her Ladyship) lived happily and died rejoicing. He was long the subject of affliction, and often at death’s door; but he was refined in the furnace of affliction, and his growth in grace and knowledge of the Saviour great and remarkable. My foolish heart fondly looked to his ministerial labours at Brighton; but our glorious Head has frustrated my views in this, as well as in many other ways, to humble me, and teach me to look more constantly to Him who doeth what seemeth him best.”

Mr. Jones exchanged this lower world of sin and sorrow for the pure unmixed joys of God’s eternal kingdom above on the 6th of June, 1762, in the thirty-third year of his age.