Chapter XXII

Mr. and Mrs. Powys--Letters--Mr. Whitefield--Mr.
Fletcher--Mr. Venn--Sir C. Hotham--Howel Harris--Chapel
at Brighton re-opened--Letters--Mr. Romaine--Mr.
Talbot--Mr. Berridge--Anecdote of the Countess--Mr. De
Courcy--Mr. Vincent Perronet--Mr. Toplady--Mr. Bliss--Mr.
Pentycross--Chapel at Chichester opened--Chapel at Petworth--at
Guildford--Basingstoke--Enlargement of that at Brighton--Mr.
Thomas Jones.

Mr. and Mrs. Powys visited Lady Huntingdon, at Oathall and Brighton, in the course of this summer (1766):[186] making some stay in London on their way, they were introduced to Mr. Whitefield and Mr. Fletcher, and became intimate with both. Mr. Whitefield’s farewell letter to this “honoured and happy pair,” when his “cloud pointed to Bath and Bristol,” theirs to Brighthelmstone, was dated Tottenham-court, June 2, 1766: “How glad (he says) will the noble Countess be of the intended visit! How will the hearts, both of the visited and the visitors, be made to burn within them!” Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Romaine were at Brighton and Oathall during the visit of Mr. and Mrs. Powys, and on their departure Mr. Venn and Sir Charles Hotham arrived. The two latter proceeded from Brighton to Bath, where they were met by Mr. Howel Harris, to whom Sir Charles was introduced by Lady Huntingdon; he accompanied them to Trevecca, whence, just before his departure with Sir Charles and Captain Wilson for Berwick, the residence of Mr. Powys, he wrote the following letter to Lady Huntingdon:--

“Trevecca, Nov. 30, 1766.

“Dear Madam--The favour of yours, by Sir Charles, I began
immediately to answer; and then again another; but your last
coming before I could send either, I can only now say, it is my
real cross that it is not in my power to come _directly_
myself, instead of sending this, to offer, with all my
readiness, any little assistance I am able. When yours came
to hand, our Saviour had been just laying your matters on my
heart in an earnest spirit of intercession, as he often does,
notwithstanding the backwardness of my pen. And on my laying
the contents of your letter before those that help me here,
Evan Moses said that your matters had been of late laid often,
more than usual, on his heart, to wrestle with God for you,
&c. &c. &c.; and they would all have consented to my coming
_directly_ to Sussex, but that I had, above a fortnight
ago, sent to publish a long round, which I begin this week, of
about fifteen opportunities, where several thousands, I expect,
will attend, and several of the places I never was in before.
And I had been laying it before the Lord before I sent, and we
were all in conscience afraid of disappointing so many. And on
laying it again before the Lord, it seemed clearly to be his
mind I should go this round; and as soon as I return I trust our
Saviour will help me to come to Sussex.

“I hope to commemorate our Saviour’s circumcision and entrance
on his sufferings with your Ladyship at Brighton; and to set
out from hence as soon as I return from my journey, in which
(when you find that nothing should have kept me from complying
immediately with your request, but being bound in spirit, as
well as conscience and truth) I am sure you will hold up my
hands, and follow me with your prevalent prayers of faith; and
that I may be counted worthy to contribute some weak help to
your Ladyship, in your well-meant labours for the glory of the
Redeemer and the good of a dark, ungrateful age.

“My wife, and Hannah, and Betty, Evan Moses, and Jerry
Pritchard, all join in most grateful regards to your Ladyship;
and are so far from hindering me, that they are sorry that I
can’t come directly; and all feel a oneness between your work
and ours, and that your cares and burdens are ours.

* * * * *

“Will you believe me if I say I shall feel the time long till
the Lord, I trust, will bring me to Brighthelmstone? Your
Ladyship’s most unworthy, but affectionate and obliged humble
servant,

“HOWEL HARRIS.”

Mr. Fletcher went from Brighton to London, “where (says Mr. Whitefield) he became a _scandalous_ Tottenham-court preacher.” Lady Huntingdon followed him to London, and Mr. and Mrs. Powys went on a visit to Mr. Venn, in Yorkshire. To that place Lady Huntingdon addressed the following letter:--

“My dear Madam--As I have no expectation of seeing you again,
from the uncertainty of all things on earth, which suffers us
not to call anything our own that time possesses us of, I could
not forbear communicating my sentiments of love and tender
regard to you and Mr. Powys, hoping that the conviction that
will follow from them will be sufficient to assure you how
glad I should be to wait upon you, though the interposition
of Providence may prevent my ever having that opportunity. I
really mean that my friendships, visits, conversation, with
every intercourse of mankind, should lead to but one end. I
don’t mean by this merely the necessary consistency required of
a religious profession, or the splendid _appearances_ of
a devout (or _sanctimonious_) character. O no! these the
poorest and blindest hypocrite may excel in; but the knowledge
of truth, essentially and effectually distinguished from all the
plausible opinions _about it_, is my all.

“These words in your letter struck me with a simplicity I
loved--‘All I know is, that I am exceedingly ignorant, and have
need to be taught as a little child.’ To this real disposition
is all truth eminently and specially addressed; and without
this kind of docility we must remain where we were. I don’t
suppose you consider it needful to become so, as to man; but
are you so before Him who alone can teach, guide, and lead into
all truth? Read from the 25th verse to the end of the 14th
chapter of St. Luke, and see if, out of that great multitude
that followed Him, you would have rejoiced when he turned and
said to them, _‘If any man come to me, and hate not,’ &c.,
‘he cannot be my disciple;’_ for we hear of none that chose
him out of that multitude; and in what a state of preparation
for heavenly things must _that_ heart have been that could
have embraced him, in his low and despised estate, so highly as
to fly from all things else, nearest and dearest, as hateful,
to follow Him. Is, then, this the disposition of your heart,
my dearest Madam? This was not said to apostles, or eminently
chosen instruments, but _if any man come to me_. Should
this be our Saviour’s first lesson to your heart, and it is
_truly_ in this child-like disposition, you will naturally
forego every hindrance--you will embrace the summons, leaving
all behind joyfully; if not, you will reason, and find out
how wise you are in accommodating these highest privileges of
his Gospel with securing to yourself (from worldly prudence)
every comfort he would call you from the enjoyment of, and rest
in the consolation, doctrinally, of the sufficiency of his
sacrifice for sinners. Such, dearest Madam, is the blindness
and deceitfulness of our hearts; whereas, true faith in that
sacrifice calls upon all for the sacrifice of _their all_,
in testimony of their faith; and whenever we see a sincere
heart, though overrun with weakness, unbelief, &c., as Peter
and others, yet we find them brought through all to the point
their simple hearts truly aimed at; therefore we have no reason
to be discouraged at anything we are not now, as he first works
in us to will, and then to do, of his own good pleasure. But
the reserves willingly held at the bottom of the heart, and not
being alive or awake upon the necessity of this condition of
the mind, or by evading the force of these truths, by arguments
drawn from Scripture, with art, to satisfy the poor foolish
heart--this, of all states, appears to be the worst sort--these
are those that are ever learning, and never coming to the
knowledge of the truth, and carry the savour of death with them
wherever they go.

“A lady of great quality I knew, that had most serious and
religious sentiments, and of this world, in person, fortune,
family, friends, &c. an uncommon share: a gentleman who was
well acquainted with her, and saw the snares that would beset
her, in order to prevent the solid experience of the truth,
dealt most plainly with her, and showed her the consequence of
a divided heart: it gave her great pain for a time; but at and
before her death she often would cry out, ‘_O what great, what
unspeakable obligations do I now feel for that dear and faithful
friend who dealt so plainly with me_:’ and, indeed, her death
was the most blessed proof of that solid and most substantial
evidence she had of future glory: for mortality was swallowed up
of life visibly to others.

“It is this sort of friends I feel I want for myself, who will
ever contend with every false rest 1 would set up; and with
faith and zeal be hastening my slow and lazy steps through this
rough wilderness of woe; such it only is to pilgrims--they
cannot take up with what is in it, yet loiter in that way, when
faith and love would make them wings to soar upon.

* * * * *

“Thus, my dearest Madam, may you and I _practically know_,
understand, and follow, by the guidance of the Spirit of truth,
the meaning and intent of all religious truths revealed in the
Bible; unless this is the case, we are, and shall be found,
the sounding brass, and nothing better. To our great Prophet,
Priest, and King may we ever trust and commit ourselves, and in
his arms of love and mercy may we be found, when nothing else
but the merits of his death shall fill heaven and our hearts
with his praises. I am, dearest Madam, your much obliged friend
and obedient humble servant,

“S. HUNTINGDON.”

“To Mrs. Powys.

Mr. Whitefield at the same time wrote to Mr. Powys, congratulating him on having around him _four_ Methodist preachers;[187] “enough (he observes) when Jesus says, ‘Loose them and let them go,’ to set a whole kingdom on fire for God.” “Our truly noble mother in Israel (he continues, adverting to the Countess) is come to London, full of the scars of Christian honour: _crescit sub pondere virtus_. Happy they who have the honour of her acquaintance.”

In February, Howel Harris came to London, and, after preaching for Mr. Whitefield several times, went down to Brighton to the Countess. This was a favourite place of resort to the good Lady Huntingdon, and there she had opened her first chapel, which had so prospered, that she now found it necessary considerably to enlarge the building. Accordingly, on the 20th of March, she gathered her chaplains around her, and the enlarged chapel was re-opened. On the 19th her Ladyship had devoted several hours to solemn and solitary prayer, wrestling with God for a blessing on this house which she had reared to him;[188] and that night a prayer meeting had been held in her own house for the same purpose. On the day of opening, Mr. Whitefield preached from 2 Peter iii. 18, “But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ: to him be glory both now and for ever. Amen.” Mr. Madan preached in the forenoon, and Mr. Whitefield in the evening, and vast crowds assembled, and heard as if deeply affected.

Mr. Fletcher, under date of Madely, March 16th, 1767, acknowledges her Ladyship’s intimation concerning the chapel, “her Ladyship’s comfortable and profitable letter,” which he waits to answer until he can enter into the spirit of her favourite Mary; but he says, “I am a stupid sinner still--to say all in one word, I am _myself_ still;” and he continues to paint his own struggles for power in the manner of several of his former letters. Mr. Venn, he says, on his way from Yorkshire to Bath, brought him the intelligence that Mr. Harris had visited her Ladyship, and had promised to visit Madely on his return. “Jones (he writes) has told me that he preached in your Ladyship’s chapel, and he mentions Mrs. Hill and Mr. and Mrs. Powys as having profited by their visit to London and her Ladyship.”

Mr. Harris addressed her Ladyship from Trevecca, in a very energetic letter, on the very day of the opening at Brighton:--

“I am this morning happy (he says) in viewing the glory that I
am sure is this day among you at Brighthelmstone. My prayer is
that your bow may ever abide in strength--that your faith may
never fail--and that the sacred fire may be ever blazing in your
heart, life, and pen, without which all our light is but mere
death and darkness.”

He promises to be in Bath in May, and adds, that he has prevailed on Mr. Hart and Mr. Jones to be there, but that Mr. Jesse did not well receive his remonstrance.

“Mr. Romaine (he says) did not preach as I would wish; Mr.
Madan spoke much against Sandeman (Haweis being present). You
have heard, I suppose, of my calling at Lord Dartmouth’s, and
seeing there Stillingfleet, Talbot, and Powys; and Lady Gertrude
Hotham’s--Sir Charles--Mrs. Cartwright and Miss Cavendish; and
of what passed at Bath, of my speaking to a society-fellowship
with Lady Anne, and expounding at Lord Buchan’s?” &c.

“If this comes to hand before the meeting breaks up, I beg my
warmest love to all, being really present there among you in my
spirit, and crying that all there may be _indeed devoted to
the Lord_. O how few, my dear Madam, mind Him alone! having
no object or care but Him! Sure he is but little really known,
else all the family would have but _one_ heart, _one_
voice, _one_ cry, _one_ song, and _one_ joy! But
stop--He does not despise the day of small things, and we should
bless him that _it is_ a day of small things now, and that
the day-star begins to rise on a dark, fallen, benighted land.”

He concludes with a remembrance to Miss Orton, Mrs. Turner, and the whole society. Mr. Romaine writes from Lambeth, on the 26th of the month, thus:--

“Honoured Madam--I was, according to your Ladyship’s request,
at your meeting, and waited on you in spirit, with my prayers,
which I have offered up, and shall offer up, for a blessing
upon it. I informed Mrs. Cartwright and Mrs. Cavendish that
this was the only way in which I could be present with you. My
curate has left me. I am without an assistant, and cannot hear
of one. The parochial duty tires me quite, and I would not go
through it, but that I am perfectly satisfied it was the will of
God I should have this church. I never durst take the cure of
souls. Several years ago Lord Dartmouth offered me the living
of Bromwich, where his seat is. I refused, never intending to
burden myself with such a heavy charge. Since that time I have
frequently refused the like offer. When Blackfriars was vacant,
I was put up without my knowledge, being then in Yorkshire. And
I would never meddle with the election; but it was carried on,
and succeeded, against mine own will. As sure as ever any man
had a call from heaven, this was one. I have been long satisfied
of this: and, therefore, I may not reason nor now complain.
My time is short; I must up and be doing; for I have a home
prospect, bounded in very narrow limits. I must go briskly on
with my work, leaving it to my Lord to find me strength for it,
and success in it; his blessing I expect here, and for ever:
not for anything done at Blackfriars; and yet I would labour
as hard as if heaven were to be the reward of my labours. When
I was allowed more time and liberty, I gladly laid them out in
your part of the vineyard, and what I can spare so I hope to do
again. The people are very dear to me at Brighton and Oathall,
having been so much with them, and personally acquainted with
most of their experiences. I shall be amongst you in all your
meetings, and shall keep up with you the communion of saints.
May much life and power be with ministers and people, and may
the chapel be consecrated anew by the presence and glory of the
Lord Jesus, which have so often filled it. All, with you, share
in my best wishes. I am, with great affection, in the bond of
all union, your faithful servant and friend,

“W. ROMAINE.”

In April, 1767, Lady Huntingdon and Miss Orton went from Brighton to Bath, and thence through Wales into Yorkshire. Her Ladyship was much occupied in arrangements for her college at Trevecca. In the summer of 1768, she was again at Brighton. “Her only view in Sussex (says Mr. Romaine) is to carry glad tidings to a wretchedly ignorant people. He has hitherto prospered her design, and while he smiles upon it I believe she will never give it up.” The Rev. W. Talbot,[189] vicar of St. Giles’s, Reading, accompanied her Ladyship into Sussex. He and his wife were pious and excellent persons, and were both venerated by the congregations of the Countess.

About this time her Ladyship wrote two kind and consoling letters to Mr. Berridge, who was alarmingly ill; as he expressed it, laid on the ground as “flat as a flounder.” His letter is the most admirable description of a disease and its effects that can be conceived, but couched in the most figurative and extraordinary language. He excuses his declining her Ladyship’s invitation to visit her, by pleading that he has no coat fit to appear in out of Everton, and concludes by asking her to patch his coat by a small bank bill. Her Ladyship immediately complied with his request, and forwarded a sum for the relief of his necessities.[190] He afterwards grew worse, and sent to her Ladyship to borrow a “Gospel baker” (a minister), lest his parishioners should perish for want of bread.

After the dedication of the chapel at Tunbridge Wells, Lady Huntingdon proceeded to Lewes, accompanied by Mr. De Courcy, who preached twice to very large congregations in the open air. From thence her Ladyship went to Brighton, where she made but a short stay, and leaving Mr. De Courcy to supply the chapels there and at Oathall, returned to Tunbridge Wells, where she continued till the month of August, when she took a journey into Wales, to attend the approaching anniversary of her college. Here Mr. De Courcy laboured with great zeal, truthfulness, and success. He did not confine himself to the ordinary routine of labours on the Sabbath and week days, but occasionally went from “house to house, teaching and preaching Jesus Christ.” He also held a meeting for the purpose of praying with the society, and hearing them declare what God had done for their souls. On these occasions he was peculiarly useful in speaking “a word in season” to the weary, heavy laden, troubled, tempted, and distressed soul. The great Head of the Church did not suffer him to labour in vain, but gave him many souls as seals to his ministry, some of whom fell asleep in Jesus before him, and would doubtless welcome him to the realms of eternal day.

The following letter expresses Mr. De Courcy’s admiration of her Ladyship, and details his labours in her service and that of the Lord:--

“Honoured Madam--It has been matter of concern to me that I have
not been able fully to answer your Ladyship’s most affectionate
favour of the 16th instant sooner; but I am confident you will
readily pardon my delay, when I inform your Ladyship that my
dear Lord and Master has honoured me with such constant employ
in his service that I have really wanted leisure.

“It affords me inexpressible satisfaction to find that my poor
services in the Gospel are at all acceptable to your Ladyship;
and it is matter of deep self-abasement that the Lord is pleased
to render them so agreeable, and a little profitable to the
_dear, dear_ people amongst whom I labour. O my Lady!
could I give your Ladyship a window in my breast, to discover
the secret workings of my heart, you would see, through much
vileness and imperfection, that disinterested love for the
propagation of the Gospel, and ardent gratitude to the Lord
for placing me under your Ladyship’s wing, and the sweet
constraining motions that prompt me to spend and be spent in the
Sussex work. I can, in my present situation, join issue with the
Psalmist, and say, ‘The lots have fallen to me in a fair place;
yea, I have a goodly heritage!’ I am thankful, unfeignedly
thankful, to your Ladyship for honouring an unworthy creature
so far as to send him to a people among whom the Lord resides,
and to whom I feel myself so united, that a separation from them
would be a very keen trial.

“Since your Ladyship heard from me last, I have been at Hust,
a town distant about five miles from Ditchling. From reports,
we had a prospect of a severe persecution, but that promise,
‘Fear not, for I am with thee--be not dismayed, for I am thy
God,’ &c., kept my heart at perfect peace. Many friends from
Ditchling, Oathall, Brighthelmstone, &c. &c., accompanied me.
As soon as we made our appearance in the streets, the whole
town was in a commotion, as if invaded by some foreign enemy.
It was with much difficulty I could get a chair to stand on.
I proceeded in the first hymn and prayer, and a little of my
discourse, without interruption, but in a short time some
laughed, some shouted, others brought out a table with liquor,
and began to sing round it, whilst others blew a horn: and
while I invited the inhabitants of Hust freely to drink of the
water of life, a poor sinner came to me with a mug of ale in
his hand, begging I would drink of his liquor. In the midst
of all this the Lord made me as bold as a lion, so that I was
enabled to bear an awful testimony against these scoffers,
and had the pleasure to see many of them so far cut down by
the word that they were silent for some time. But after I had
preached about forty minutes, the uproar was so great that I was
obliged to desist, concluding with a hymn. Towards the close of
my discourse my bowels yearned so over these poor creatures,
that I could have wept tears of blood for their precious souls.
However, notwithstanding the tumult, many were deeply attentive,
and much affected; and I have since heard that a man in the town
has made an offer of any part of his house for us to meet in,
whenever we go again. I am very confident the Lord will have
a people in Hust, and feel a longing desire to pay it another
visit.

“Last Sunday se’nnight I went to a place called Hellingby,
twenty miles from hence. A man who lives near the place, and is
a pretender to Christianity, invited me down by a letter, which
he sent to one of the society here, wherein he represented the
parish as wholly destitute of a minister, alleging that the
curate was dismissed, and that the rector would not supply his
place. Thinking this a fair opportunity for the introduction of
the Gospel, I left this the Saturday after I saw the letter, to
go to Hellingby. In the way I called on this man, and found, to
my great astonishment, that the greatest part of this letter
was palpably false, for the rector was then come. In short, he
was quite indifferent, and would not own us. This was indeed
a trial; but I remember it was strongly impressed on my mind
that the Lord suffered this for some wise ends; therefore faith
looked to that promise--‘All things shall work together for
good;’ and patience waited its fulfilment in this affair. On
Sunday morning I waited on the minister. When he found I had
some connexion with your Ladyship he would not admit me into
his church. I returned, very much resigned, to a few friends
from Brighthelmstone, &c., who accompanied me to a place
called Laughton, where I stood up under a branching venerable
tree, and preached to a very sweet attentive congregation,
though not very numerous. We stood on an eminence, and made
the hills and vales re-echo with the praises of the Lamb. It
was a blessed season. Many were much affected, and after I had
concluded, begged hard for one sermon more. I have given them
a promise, and hope soon to fulfil it, for I long once more to
stand under that same tree. The work in Sussex calls aloud for
more labourers. It is impossible for me to give your Ladyship
any idea of the universal thirst there is for the Gospel, on
every side of us, in the country parts. Every time I preach at
Oathall people come to me, and cry out, like persons famishing
with hunger and begging a morsel of bread--‘_Oh, Sir, won’t
you come to such a place?_’ Indeed, I wish it were in my
power to supply every place, but my calls are so various that
it is quite impracticable. I think Mr. Harman computed ten or
twelve different parts to which we have been invited. I pray
that the Lord may send us some help. I think Sussex seems to be
on fire: and though the devil strives to extinguish the sacred
flame, yet, glory be to God, it receives additional strength
from every fresh flood poured on it, and burns the brighter. The
Lord is reviving his work in the hearts of some here who have
lost ground; he blesses us in every meeting. Yesterday was one
of the days of the Son of Man. Oathall church was as full as it
could hold, and the Lord was in the midst of us. The word was
as a fire. I preached at eight in the morning five miles from
Oathall--at eleven, at Oathall--at six, at Brighthelmstone;
and the Lord gave me such strength of body and spirit that he
enabled me to go through the whole like a giant refreshed with
new wine. I really felt no more lassitude of spirit or fatigue
of body than if I had not spoken a word the whole day. That
promise, ‘As thy day is, so shall thy strength be,’ was my
support, and was literally fulfilled to me. O my Lady! what a
Master do we serve! What an ample reward does he give us even
here! How sweet is his service!

“My Lord and Lady Sussex were at chapel yesterday evening, and
seemed vastly attentive. I received this day a heart-reviving
cordial of an epistle from dear Mr. Whitefield. He rejoices
in the prospect of being with your Ladyship this summer at
Tunbridge Wells. Your Ladyship is pleased to ask me what you
shall do about my ordination. This I answer--I am certain your
Ladyship will do whatever is our Lord’s will, and therefore do
not presume to prescribe. I bless God, my mind is perfectly
calm and resigned concerning this matter. The ordination
of the Great Bishop of Souls is infinitely more valid than
that of any creature. I feel much gratitude to the Lord, and
am inexpressibly thankful to your Ladyship for my present
comfortable situation. The free offer you make of being the
friend of all my wants is more than I desire; and all the
requital I can make is to pray that the Lord may reward you
sevenfold into your own bosom. May the Lord Jesus bear all your
burdens! May he crown your labours with abundant success, and
give your Ladyship to see the travail of your Redeemer’s soul
in the conversion of many souls! But I must at length conclude,
with most affectionate respects to Lady Buchan, Lady Anne,
Miss Orton, &c., your Ladyship’s much obliged and most dutiful
servant,

“RICHARD DE COURCY.

“Brighthelmstone, June 26, 1769.

“P.S.--If it were not inconvenient, I should be glad to be
permitted to lie at your Ladyship’s house; for, being obliged
to go out warm after preaching, I risk my health. I hope your
Ladyship will pardon this freedom.”

Mr. De Courcy was extremely popular at this period. And so much was he esteemed in the chapels of the Countess, that multitudes flocked from every quarter to hear him; and the Chief Shepherd, who had furnished him with great gifts, condescended to bless them, for the awakening, quickening, and reviving the souls of many, especially of young persons. “Surely, my Lady (writes Mr. Fletcher), you have found at last a man altogether after your Ladyship’s heart, in Mr. De Courcy; yea, and a man after the Lord’s own heart, whom he is pleased to honour.”

The winter of 1769 Lady Huntingdon spent in London. The first day of the year 1770 her Ladyship set apart for the exercise of abstinence--for the duties of impartial examination, humiliation, and renewed dedication of herself to God. In the morning she was much profited under a sermon from Isaiah xxxv. 3: “Strengthen ye the weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees.” The preacher was the Rev. Andrew Kinsman, of Plymouth, then supplying the Tabernacle and Tottenham-court Chapel--a man held in great estimation by her Ladyship and Mr. Whitefield. In the evening she heard Mr. Romaine at the Lock Chapel, from those striking words in the prophecies of Jeremiah--“This year thou shalt die.” From a letter written partly on the evening of this day, but not concluded for some days after, we extract the following passages, which detail the causes of her sorrows, and from whence arose her joys:--

“---- I am but just returned from the Lock, where I heard
a profitable sermon from dear Mr. Romaine, on that awful
passage--‘_This year thou shalt die_.’ If the Lord shall
see fit to remove me hence during the year just commenced, may
my worthless soul be numbered with the redeemed before the
throne. Of late I have enjoyed much intimate fellowship with
the Father and the Son, and the Holy Spirit has frequently
witnessed with my spirit that I am his child. This has caused
me to rejoice with joy unspeakable. Truly I can set up my
Ebenezer, saying, ‘_Hitherto the Lord hath helped me_.’
During the year that is gone he appeared wonderfully in my
behalf; and has repeatedly given me to find it is not in vain
to trust him. Nevertheless, I am keenly penetrated with a sense
of my own utter helplessness, nothingness, and depravity. Oh!
the desperate deceitfulness of the human heart! What depths of
depravity are within! I am a very Judas, ready to betray my Lord
and Master, and did not mighty grace prevent, would have been a
traitor long since. But the Lord is still merciful and gracious,
and, though often provoked, has not yet forsaken me. Through
mercy I still hold fast my confidence. My anchor is fixed, and
the Lord Jesus is my wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and
redemption; and with the apostle I am enabled to forget those
things which are behind, and reach forth to those things which
are before.”

But whilst inward consolation abounded, outward trials and disappointments increased. But He who is rich in mercy knew what she was able to bear, and proportioned her sufferings to her strength. In many places where she was instrumental in planting the Gospel standard, great success attended the first promulgation of divine truth, and much life and zeal glowed in the hearts of those who received the truth in the love of it. But after a season the scene changed, and deadness seemed to spread over the work. To some such complaints of her Ladyship, Mr. Berridge thus replies, under the date of Everton, January 9, 1770:--

“You complain that every new work, after a season, becomes a
lifeless work. And was it not in the beginning as it is now?
Do not the Acts and Epistles show that the primitive Churches
much resembled our own? In their infancy we find them of one
heart and soul, having all things common; but presently read
of partiality in the distribution of their Church stock, then
of eager and lasting contentions about circumcision, coupling
Moses with Jesus, and setting the servant on a level with
his master. And Gentile Churches were much on a footing with
Jewish. The Corinthians soon fell into parties about their
leaders, into errors about the resurrection, and into many gross
immoralities. The Galatians seemed ready at first to present
Paul with their own eyes, but grew desirous at last of plucking
out his. The Ephesians had been much tossed with winds of
doctrine. The Colossians had fallen into will worship, &c.; and
the Thessalonians had some of our gossips among them who would
not work, but sauntered about picking up news and telling tales.
St. Paul’s labours were much employed in Asia, and many Churches
were gathered there; yet I hear him complaining in a certain
place, ‘that all they in Asia were turned aside from him.’ The
_General_ Epistles, which were written late, unanimously
show that errors and corruptions had broke into all Churches
during the apostle’s life-time: and the seven Epistles dictated
by Jesus in the Revelation confirm the same. Scripture mentions
a former and a latter rain: between which there must of course
be an _interval_ of drought and barrenness. The former
rain falls just after seed-time; when there is plenty of manna
coming down from above, plenty of honey flowing out of the rock,
and plenty of joyful hosannahs rising up to Jesus. After this
rain comes the _interval_; during which most of the stony
and thorny grounds sheer off, taking a final leave of Jesus;
and the good grounds are scarcely discernible, so barren they
appear and full of weeds, and so exceedingly cold and swampy.
Now one soars up into the cloud of perfection, crying out, ‘_I
am a queen!_’ and becomes the devil’s goddess. Another falls
asleep and snores hard in election; God’s truth, indeed, is
often made the devil’s cradle. A third drops plump into a pond,
and then keeps roaming day and night about the devil’s wash-pot.
A fourth gets bemired in the world, and lies quite contented,
though nearly choked in the devil’s quagmire. At length the Lord
ariseth in just indignation to chastise and vex his people,
continuing his plagues till he has broken their bones and
humbled their hearts, causing them to see, and feel, and loathe
their backslidings, and raising up a sigh and a cry in their
hearts for deliverance. Then comes the latter rain to revive and
settle; after which they learn to walk humbly with God.”

Some time during the month of January her Ladyship paid a visit to that very venerable man, Vincent Perronet, vicar of Shoreham, in Sussex, who had but just recovered from a long illness--a man certainly entitled, on various accounts, to a conspicuous place amongst the brightest ornaments of the Christian Church in the last century. For though he was possessed of talents and accomplishments which would have qualified him to have filled any station with dignity, and his connexions in life were such that he had good reason to expect considerable preferment; yet as soon as the glorious light of the Gospel visited his mind, he instantly renounced every prospect of temporal advantage, counting all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord; and from that moment he unreservedly devoted himself to the glory of his Redeemer and the interests of the Church militant.

With Lady Huntingdon, Mr. Perronet had occasionally corresponded, but till this period never had a personal interview with her Ladyship, who was much impressed with the manly and exalted nature of his piety, his Christian courtesy, and the cheerfulness and sweetness of his disposition and deportment. “A most heavenly man (says her Ladyship), with the most lively piety, joined with the profoundest humility and ardent concern for the salvation of the people committed to his charge.” And as he was one of the most aged ministers of Christ in the kingdom, so he was inferior to none, either in the fervour of his spirit, the simplicity of his manners, or the ancient hospitality of the Gospel. At the same time, those who were favoured with his friendship can never forget the delicacy and refinement of his sentiments, and the frankness and generosity of his temper--qualities which are not to be expected but from great and liberal minds.

Lady Huntingdon was accompanied by Mr. Wesley, who remained at Shoreham a few days, whilst her Ladyship proceeded to Tunbridge Wells, to regulate some affairs connected with her chapel there. From thence she went to Brighton and Oathall, where Mr. Romaine had arrived a day or two before. Her Ladyship returned to her residence, in Portland-row, in the month of February. On Tuesday, the 6th, Mr. Wesley administered the sacrament at her house _for the last time_. Mr. Maxfield preached and spoke strongly against Perfection, a doctrine Mr. Wesley contended for at this time with much zeal. The following week, however, he was again at her Ladyship’s house, when Mr. Talbot, of Reading, administered the Lord’s Supper, and Mr. Browne, of Olney, preached; after which Mr. Wesley concluded with prayer and the usual benediction.

For some weeks Mr. Talbot and Mr. Browne administered the sacrament and preached alternately at her Ladyship’s, assisted by Mr. Maxfield, Mr. Green, and Mr. Foster, then curate and lecturer of St. Ann’s, Blackfriars. Early in March, Mr. Romaine returned to London, and on the 5th accompanied her Ladyship to Reading, where she remained a few days with her excellent friends, Mr. and Mrs. Talbot. On the 9th she reached Bristol, where Mr. Romaine preached twice on Sunday, the 11th. The next day she went to Bath, and the following evening Mr. Romaine preached in the chapel to a very large and serious congregation. Passing through Stroud and Painswick, she arrived at Cheltenham, Wednesday, the 14th. Being refused the use of the parish church, Mr. Romaine addressed a numerous body of people in a large school-room, where Mr. Madan, Mr. Talbot, and others had occasionally preached some years before. On the 16th her Ladyship left Cheltenham for Oxford; and the following day reached Reading, where she remained till Monday, Mr. Romaine having engaged to preach on the Sunday for Mr. Talbot. After spending two days in London, Lady Huntingdon set off for Brighton on the 22nd, accompanied by Lady Anne Erskine, Miss Orton, and Mr. Maxfield.

On the 26th her Ladyship received the following letter from Mr. Berridge, in answer to one she had lately written him, at the close of which he makes a slight allusion to the disappointment she experienced at this time by the withdrawment of Mr. De Courcy from her Ladyship’s patronage and Connexion--

“Everton, March 23, 1770.

“My Lady--Your letter just suited my case: it was a bleeding
plaster for a bleeding heart. These many months I have done
little else but mourn for myself and others, to see how we lie
among the tombs, contented with a decent suit of grave-clothes.
At times my heart has been refreshed with these words, ‘On
the land of my people is come up briars and thorns, until the
Spirit be poured out upon them from on high;’ but the comfort
soon vanisheth, like gleams of a winter sun. I cannot wish for
transports, such as we once had, and which almost turned our
heads; but I do long to see a spirit poured forth of triumphant
faith, heavenly love, and steadfast cleaving to the Lord.

“Before I parted with honest Glascott, I cautioned him much
against petticoat snares. He has burnt his wings already. Sure
he will not imitate a foolish gnat, and hover again about the
candle? If he should fall into a sleeping-lap, he will soon need
a flannel night-cap, and a rusty chain to fix him down, like
a church bible to the reading-desk. No trap so mischievous to
the field-preacher as wedlock, and it is laid for him at every
hedge corner. Matrimony has quite maimed poor Charles,[191] and
might have spoiled John[192] and George,[193] if a wise Master
had not graciously sent them a brace of ferrets. Dear George has
now got his liberty again, and he will escape well if he is not
caught by another tenterhook.

“Eight or nine years ago, having been grievously tormented with
housekeepers, I truly had thoughts of looking out for a Jezebel
myself. But it seemed highly needful to ask advice of the Lord.
So, falling down on my knees before a table, with a Bible
between my hands, I besought the Lord to give me a direction;
then letting the Bible fall open of itself, I fixed my eyes
immediately on these words, ‘When my son was entered into his
wedding chamber he fell down and died.’ (2 Esdras x. 1). This
frightened me heartily, you may easily think; but Satan, who
stood peeping at my elbow, not liking the heavenly caution,
presently suggested a scruple, that the book was Apocryphal, and
the words not to be heeded. Well, after a short pause, I fell
on my knees again, and prayed the Lord not to be angry with me,
whilst, like Gideon, I requested a second sign, and from the
canonical Scripture; then letting my Bible fall open as before,
I fixed my eyes directly on this passage, ‘Thou shalt not take
thee a wife, neither shalt thou have sons or daughters in this
place.’ (Jer. xvi. 2). I was now completely satisfied; and being
thus made acquainted with my Lord’s mind, I make it one part of
my prayers. And I can look on these words, not only as a rule of
direction, but as a promise of security--‘_Thou shalt not take
a wife_’--that is, I will keep thee from taking one.

“This method of procuring divine intelligence is much flouted
by flimsy professors,[194] who walk at large, and desire not
that sweet and secret access to the mercy-seat which babes
of the kingdom do find. During the last twelve years I have
had occasion to consult the oracle three or four times, on
matters that seemed important and dubious, and have received
answers full and plain. Was not this the practice of the Jewish
Church? God gave laws and statutes to them, as well as to us;
but when dubious cases arose they consulted the oracle, which
gave directions how to act. Joshua and Israel are blamed for
not consulting the oracle before they made a league with the
Gibeonites. Yea, in the patriarchal times we find Rebecca
enquiring of the Lord concerning her twins; and are there not
now, as well as formerly, many dubious cases? And can we think
that God will deny that direction to the Christian Church which
he freely granted to the Jewish? Is not access to the mercy-seat
more free and more open than before? I believe perplexed cases
are often sent on purpose to teach us to enquire of the Lord.
But leaving the oracles of God, we make an oracle of man. A
dozen wise heads are consulted, and their sparkling opinions
usually prove as various as the colours of the rainbow. Thus
we are plunged into greater perplexity than before: a very
proper chastisement for our folly! At my first setting out,
I trudged on in this old, beaten, dirty track, and many wise
folks perplexed me soundly, as I, in my turn, have perplexed
yourself; witness the Welsh College. At length I found the
method little better than ‘seeking to familiar spirits, and to
wizards that peep and mutter; should not a people seek to their
God?’ (Isaiah viii. 19). Daniel sought to his God, and got out
the _secret_ of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream. ‘O yes (cries a
casuistical professor, one of Isaiah’s muttering wizards), but
this was a most extraordinary case.’ True, and yet David affirms
that the _secret_ of the Lord is with all them that fear
him. Where is faith? Buried under mountains, and not removing
them. However, this oracular enquiry is not to be made on light
and trifling occasions, and much less with a light and trifling
spirit. Whoever consults the oracle aright will enter on the
enquiry with the same solemnity as the high priest entered
into the holy of holies; neither must this be done upon any
day, but on a high day; not on trifling occasions, but on very
important concerns. And whoever thus consults the word of God as
his oracle, with a hearty desire to know and do God’s will, I
believe he will receive due information. Some people, I am told,
have had answers on their first enquiries, but afterwards have
received no answer at all. The reason may easily be guessed.
We begin our enquiries with momentous matters, and receive
satisfaction; we naturally slide into matters of no moment,
which are either plainly resolved by the word, or require only
common faith and waiting; and thus we make the consultation
matter of amusement, like the drawing a picture card out of a
Scripture pack, which is not pleasing unto God; for, though he
is willing to be consulted, he is not willing to be trifled
with, and much less to be made the subject of amusement or
diversion.”

From this time to the period of her decease Lady Huntingdon was frequent in her visits to Brighton and Oathall; and the labours of her Ladyship’s ministers were attended with such signal tokens of the divine favour, that the chapel at Brighton was soon found to be too small for the numbers who wished to attend. In the year 1774 it was taken down and rebuilt, chiefly at the expense of Miss Orton (afterwards Mrs. Haweis); and it is worthy to be here recorded, that several pious young men connected with the congregation, who were mechanics, gave their services at over-hours, in order to expedite the necessary work. The chapel was soon finished, and solemnly dedicated to God on the 24th of July, 1774, on which interesting occasion Mr. Romaine preached in the morning from 1 Kings viii. 11--“For the glory of the Lord had filled the house of the Lord;” and in the evening from John i. 14--“We behold the glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.”

The following year Mr. Toplady visited Brighton, where he found a “very considerable gathering to the standard of the cross.” His ministry was much blessed, and he was exceedingly attached to the people. “I have found (says he) much union with them, and the unction of the Holy One has given me much comfort and enlargement among them hitherto, in our public approaches to God.” Being a man of extensive knowledge, diversified talents, and great zeal--whose mind was enlarged by science, whose heart was expanded by the benevolent system of the Gospel, and whose aims were directed to the best and noblest ends, it is natural to suppose his discourses contained a rich body of evangelical truths, urged upon his hearers in a strong and forcible manner.[195]

“I have seldom ministered to a congregation (says he) for whom
I have felt more real love and union of spirit. Communion with
the saints is one of the sweetest privileges of the people of
God; and this I have eminently enjoyed at Brighthelmstone,
where there are very many precious souls whom I esteem as the
excellent of the earth, and in whom the Lord delighteth.”

With Mr. Toplady was associated the Rev. Thomas Bliss, vicar of Ashford and Yarncombe, in Devonshire,[196] of whom he says, “Your Ladyship has done me an inestimable benefit by associating me with the amiable, the excellent, the zealous, the heavenly-minded Mr. Bliss, a pattern for believers, and particularly ministers of Jesus.”

At sixteen Mr. Bliss heard Mr. Romaine at Oxford, and was quite exasperated at his preaching; but soon afterwards hearing Dr. Haweis, his view of religion changed, and he became at that early age, what he ever afterwards remained, a true Christian. He left the University in 1760, and was introduced by Lady Huntingdon to Mr. Grimshaw, whom he assisted till he was appointed to the living of Ashford, near Barnstaple, in Devonshire, where he died in 1802. He was the life-long victim of nervous disease: a friend one day calling upon him, and asking him how he was, he replied, “I am tremblingly alive all over; every nerve is the seat of torture. Though, to lull my pains, I take opium enough every day to kill three strong men, the anguish I feel is so inconceivably excruciating, as can only be exceeded by suffering the flames of hell.” At other times he would frequently say, “My life is so unspeakably burthensome, that nothing short of the mighty power of God, and the support which real and experimental religion affords, could restrain me from laying violent hands on myself.” He died happily. A few days before his dissolution, he preached a sermon from his pillow, on “Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord,” with an astonishing energy and pathos. He might, on this occasion, have literally adopted the lines of the eminently pious Baxter--

“I preach as if I ne’er should preach again;
And as a dying man to dying men.”

The Countess meanwhile extended on all sides the circle of her utility. Her oldest chaplain, Mr. Romaine, was her adviser and assistant on all occasions, and to him the younger ministers looked up with the highest reverence and affection, and his advice was always to bear with spiritual wickedness in high places, and to keep within the pale of the Church.

His true love and respect for the Church of England was in no wise lessened, nor did ever any man take more effectual pains to serve her, whether by his preaching or his advice. Many of his vacations were employed in her service, and he constantly travelled about with her Ladyship, preaching the doctrine of the kingdom. Sussex and Hampshire enjoyed much of the fruits of these excursions.

The labours of Mr. Romaine, and of those men of God who united with him in “holding forth the word of life,” were truly astonishing. They were not suffered to labour in vain, or spend their strength for nought, when called to go forth in the name of their Divine Master. His word directs--“In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that.”

The same ardent zeal animating Lady Huntingdon’s spirit, she embraced the offer of an individual at Chichester to occupy his house and try to diffuse in that city, and the region around it, the light of the Sun of Righteousness. Thither she went, with the ministers who laboured for her in the blessed work of spreading the everlasting Gospel. A chapel was soon erected, and opened by Mr. Pentycross. Mr. English, one of her Ladyship’s senior students, left it to take charge of a congregation at Gosport, of which the late Dr. Bogue was afterwards pastor. Mr. English had been labouring at Worcester, and from thence had been removed by Lady Huntingdon to Chichester. His ministry was generally acceptable, and he was favoured with encouragement and marks of usefulness. He was succeeded by Mr. Matthew Wilks, and then by the students of Trevecca in rotation. Two large chapels were soon after erected at the neighbouring village of Emsworth, and others at Petworth and Guildford. Such were the fruits of Lady Huntingdon’s labours at Chichester.

Great and illustrious, indeed, was the cause in which this venerable woman was engaged. Surveying the moral condition of mankind--the imperishable nature and unalterable destination of the human spirit--how feelingly does she lament the feebleness and insufficiency of the instrument in so divine a work, and the numberless imperfections which mingled with all her best services! Nevertheless, she cherished sensations of joy and thankfulness while she contemplated the glorious effects which, through such feeble and imperfect means, the power of the Almighty had accomplished. It was his Spirit which kindled this flame of divine charity, and, by his efficacious impulse in her heart, constrained her to unceasing exertions in scattering the precious seed of the everlasting Gospel in various parts of the kingdom, then desolate as the barren heath, but in succeeding generations producing plenteously the plants of righteousness, and the ripe fruits of grace and glory.

In 1755 a place of worship was opened by her Ladyship’s means at Basingstoke. After some years it was found too small and inconvenient for a rapidly increasing congregation, under the Rev. Thomas Thorne, one of her Ladyship’s ministers, who had settled there. About the year 1799 a new chapel was erected, capable of accommodating six hundred people, and opened for divine worship on the 11th of July, 1802. In the morning, Mr. Thorne, minister of the chapel, who was much attached to the use of the Liturgy of the Church of England, and enjoyed himself most where it was most esteemed, read the prayers of the Established Church; and the Rev. William Cooper, who was afterwards minister of her Ladyship’s chapel in Dublin, preached from Gen. xxviii. 16–17. Mr. Wilkins preached in the afternoon, and Mr. Cooper again in the evening. Mr. Thorne continued at Basingstoke about ten years.

In 1779 Mr. Wills had resigned his charge at St. Agnes, near Truro, in Cornwall, and had entered the Connexion of the Countess of Huntingdon, happy in travelling from town to town, and from city to city, to diffuse abroad the savour of that name which he loved. At the same time, Dr. Haweis, Mr. Glascott, and Mr. Taylor were frequent in their visits to Brighton and Oathall, and the other chapels of her Ladyship in the neighbourhood. In 1782 the congregation enjoyed the labours of the Rev. Edward Burn, minister of St. Mary’s, Birmingham.

In the year 1788 another alteration took place in the chapel at Brighton; a front gallery was erected by the voluntary subscriptions of several friends, chiefly for the accommodation of the Sunday-school: and in the year 1810–11 a further alteration was effected, by throwing open to the chapel a large parlour, by means of folding doors, principally for the accommodation of the visitors, building a fourth gallery for the poor and the children of the school, and erecting a minister’s vestry behind the pulpit. The chapel was now rendered a very commodious place of worship, and was capable of containing about a thousand persons. On the completion of this alteration, the Rev. Rowland Hill preached in the morning and evening, and the Rev. Mr. Whitefoot, of Enfield, delivered a discourse in the afternoon.

In the year 1822 it was deemed expedient again to enlarge the chapel, by enclosing a piece of ground at the south end, equal in size to rather more than half the ground floor in 1810; and on Sunday, the 19th April, 1822, the Rev. Rowland Hill again preached twice at the re-opening. The chapel is now considered sufficiently capacious to contain fifteen hundred persons, and is characterized by a neat and chaste simplicity throughout.

At Brighton and Oathall the Rev. Thomas Jones passed the last twenty-six years of his life, which closed September 15th, 1814. At that time he was the senior minister in Lady Huntingdon’s Connexion, having been admitted at Trevecca in 1769. How encouraging, how animating are these relations of the success attending the benevolent efforts of the noble Countess! The footsteps of Divine Providence, in the government of the world at large, are traced with devout attention by every real Christian; but those events which are visibly connected with the extension of the Saviour’s kingdom among men are observed with the most diligent and affectionate regard. To those who are the subjects of the great Redeemer the interests of pure and vital godliness are inexpressibly dear; and every advance towards the establishment of his gracious reign must be pleasing in the highest degree. The foregoing narrative hath furnished abundant evidence of the Lord’s gracious approbation of the various and zealous efforts of the ministers sent forth by her Ladyship, and, consequently, strong encouragement to those that remain to proceed with increasing diligence and vigour in this noble cause. O! how did the heart of the venerable Foundress of the Connexion glow with holy ardour for the honour of her Divine Lord, and for the salvation of lost sinners! And how was she constrained to employ all her powers, to exert all their vigour, to advance the same interests for which the Saviour’s companion prompted him to live and die! Much, very much indeed, remains to be done. The voice of the Great Leader and Commander is--GO FORWARD! The voice of an approving Providence is--Go forward!