Chapter L: Tyerman (11)

Seventeen days, after the date of the above letter, Hervey was ordained a deacon at Christ Church, by Dr. Potter, Bishop of Oxford.[151]

One of the Oxford Methodists was Charles Kinchin, Fellow of Corpus Christi College.[152] On leaving Oxford, he was presented with the rectory of Dummer, near Basingstoke; and now, in 1736, Hervey became his curate. This is not the place to describe his curacy; but further extracts from his letters, during the time he held it, will serve to illustrate his character.

His brother, being desirous to be apprenticed in London, received from him the following:—

“DUMMER, _June 27, 1737_.

“DEAR BROTHER,—I find you are at London looking out for a
trade, and a master to set yourself to. I hope, you pray
earnestly to God to guide you in your choice. Desire also your
honoured mother, and mine, to have a great regard to your soul.
Let it be inquired, not only whether such a tradesman be a
man of substance and credit, but also, whether he be a man of
religion and godliness? Whether he be a lover of good people, a
careful frequenter of the Church? Whether his children be well
nurtured and educated in the fear of the Lord? Whether family
prayer be daily offered up in his house? Whether he believes
that the souls of his servants are committed to his trust,
and that he will be answerable for the neglect of them at the
judgment-seat? It will be sadly hazardous to venture yourself
under the roof of any person, who is not furnished with these
principles, or is a stranger to these practices. But, if he be
contrary to all these, a despiser of God and goodness, wholly
devoted to carnal pleasure and worldly gain; if he not only
omit the religious care and oversight of his household, but
also set them a wicked and corrupt example, let nothing induce
you to enter into his service.”

At the time when this letter was addressed to his brother, he received a sort of petition, signed by the inhabitants of Collingtree, one of his father’s parishes, praying him to become their minister. In his long reply, dated June 29, 1737, he did not absolutely refuse to accede to their request; but sketched what a minister of Christ ought to be, and exhorted them to ask the great Head of the Church, to supply them with such an one. The letter is too long for insertion here; but, it shows, that, this young man of twenty-three had correct and exalted notions of ministerial duty. The standard of excellence was high, and but seldom reached; but it was not higher than it ought to be.

Meanwhile, the services of Hervey were not confined to Dummer. Even the _Oxford_ Methodists, to some extent, were itinerant ministers, and, by interchange, occupied each other’s pulpits. Hence the following:—

“DUMMER, _October 26, 1737_.

“DEAR MR. ⸺,—I received your last at Oxford. After that, I
removed to Stanton-Harcourt; and now am replaced at Dummer.
These frequent removals and changes of situation, I hope, will
be some small excuse for my dilatoriness in writing; for, you
know, they occasion trouble and take up time.

“Mr. Broughton, Mr. Gambold, and Mr. Kinchin, have been
exercising their ministry here. O may I not pull down, by my
indiscretion or inactivity, what they have begun to build!

“As to the making of sermons, I am deterred from writing
them, not because I look upon it as a useless employment;
but because I feel, and cannot help confessing, my absolute
inequality to a task so important. I entreat your intense and
persevering prayers on my behalf, that the great and good God,
the dispenser of all wisdom, would vouchsafe to be a light
to my darkness, and strength to my weakness. Should these
supplications be graciously answered, my heart will then teem
both with abundance of matter, and propriety of expression; my
pen too will be that of a ready writer.

“I am, dear sir, your obliged and affectionate, but unworthy
friend,

“J. HERVEY.”[153]

In the early part of the year 1738, Hervey suffered from enfeebled health; and accepted the invitation of Paul Orchard, Esq., who resided at Stoke Abbey,[154] a beautifully situated old mansion in Devonshire.

Taking Bristol on his way, he wrote as follows to Mr. Orchard:—

“BRISTOL, _February 3, 1738_.

“WORTHY SIR,—I have been at Bristol little less than a
fortnight, waiting of an opportunity of coming to Cornwall by
water; but, the wind still continuing contrary, I intend, this
day, to set out for Exeter, on horseback. I hope, by three or
four easy stages, to reach it on Monday or Tuesday next. Here I
propose to rest, till I have the satisfaction of hearing from
my much-esteemed, though unknown patron. I expect, sir, to be
sorely fatigued, not being accustomed to travelling; and, if
you please to permit your man and horse (for I dare not presume
to ask for your chariot) to give me the meeting at Exeter, by
the time he arrives, I hope to have worn off my weariness. I
beg my humblest service may be accepted by your lady, and am,
good sir, your obliged humble servant,

“JAMES HERVEY.”

The foregoing, to Mr. Orchard, was written three days after Whitefield embarked for Georgia, and Wesley returned to England. No sooner did Hervey hear of his friend Wesley’s safe arrival, than he wrote him the following loving and interesting letter:—

“STOKE ABBEY, _March 21, 1738_.

“REV. AND HONOURED SIR,—How agreeably surprising was the news,
which a letter of Mr. Chapman’s lately brought me. I am at a
loss to say, whether it was more unexpected or more grateful.
It assured me that Mr. Wesley was arrived in England; had
visited Oxon; and was coming to Bath: and shall I not hasten a
congratulatory address, to welcome the friend of my studies,
the friend of my soul, the friend of all my valuable and
eternal interests? To do it cannot be deemed impertinency;
but not to do it would justly bring upon me the imputation of
ingratitude.

“I hope, sir, your health is not impaired by your travels. I
dare say, your experience is increased, and your knowledge
enlarged; your faith strengthened, and your zeal quickened.
I do not doubt but the God whom you serve, has shown you
wonderful things in His righteousness; His Almighty wisdom
and goodness have dealt graciously with you, and wrought
marvellously by you. O! how greatly pleasing, and, perhaps, not
unprofitable would a relation of them be.

“I believe you had the pleasure of finding some of the Oxonians
grown considerably in grace. They have made haste, since
your departure, to improve their talents; and to edify their
neighbours, as though they were earnestly and resolvedly
desirous to enjoy their company in a better world.

“You cannot but have heard, and, hearing, you cannot but
rejoice at, the successful zeal of our friend Whitefield. All
London, and the whole nation ring of μεγαλια του Θεου done by
his ministry. But, alas! it will damp your rising satisfaction
to receive an account of useless, worthless Hervey’s having run
a round of sin and vanity; and, at length, weary and giddy,
being almost ready to drop into hell. Oh! it is not fit to be
mentioned; worthy of nothing but oblivion. Spare the narrative,
and cure the wretch. Send a line, and accompany it with a
prayer, to warm my frozen and benumbed soul; that, if there be
any seeds of goodness latent, any sparks of piety dormant in my
breast, they may break forth to life, and kindle into a flame.

“I am retired from the scene of action into a worthy and
wealthy gentleman’s family. Mr. Chapman will inform you, how
much he deserves your prayers, and the prayers of all who are
mighty with God and prevail.

“Dear sir, if other business,—if other charitable employments
will allow you leisure, pray favour me with a letter. To none
will it be more acceptable; by none is it more needed, than by
your most obliged humble servant,

“JAMES HERVEY.”

Hervey’s health did not improve at the beautiful residence of his friend, Orchard. Hence, four months after his settlement at Stoke Abbey, he wrote to his sister as follows:—

“1738. June 19. My disorder is a languor and faintness, a
feebleness and inability for action, which is increased or
lessened according to the various temperature of the weather.
I bless God Almighty! I am not deprived of my appetite for
food, neither are my bones chastened with pain; so that, many
impute all my complaints to a hippish and over-timorous turn of
mind,—to a distempered imagination, rather than a disordered
body.

“I have been about twenty or twenty-six miles into Cornwall,
and seen wondrous workmanship of the all-creating God. At
Bideford, about fourteen miles off, I am pretty well known,
and am a little esteemed. It is strange to tell, but let it be
to the glory of God’s free and undeserved goodness, though I
am worthy of shame and universal contempt, that, I find favour
almost wherever I go.”

For upwards of two years, Hervey was the cherished guest of Mr. Orchard and his family. David and Jonathan were not warmer or more faithful friends than these. Hence the following remarkable agreement:—

“We, the underwritten, whom God’s providence has wonderfully
brought acquainted with each other, for purposes, no doubt, of
piety and everlasting salvation, sensible how blind and corrupt
our nature is, how forward to fall into errors and iniquities,
but how backward to discern or amend them;—knowing also the
great advantage of kind and affectionate, but, at the same
time, sincere and impartial reproof and admonition;—do oblige
ourselves to watch over each other’s conduct, conversation, and
tempers; and, whenever we perceive anything amiss therein,—any
duty ill done, or not done so well as it ought,—anything
omitted which might be for our spiritual good, or practised
which will tend to our spiritual hurt,—in fine, any thing
practised or neglected, which we shall wish to have been
otherwise in a dying hour:—All this we will watch to observe,
never fail to reprove, and earnestly endeavour to correct in
each other, that so, we may have nothing to upbraid one another
with when we meet in the eternal state. We resolve to do all
this with the utmost plainness, and all honest freedom; and,
provided it be done with tenderness, with apparent good-will,
and in private, we will esteem it as the greatest kindness we
can show,—the truest interest of sincere friendship that we
can exercise, and the only way of answering the gracious ends
of Almighty wisdom in bringing us together. In witness and
confirmation of which resolution, we here subscribe our names.

“PAUL ORCHARD,
”JAMES HERVEY.”

“_November 28, 1738._”

While Hervey was thus resting, and recruiting his health, in Devonshire, Wesley and his brother Charles became acquainted with Peter Böhler, found peace with God, associated with the Moravians, and began to preach the doctrine of salvation by faith only, with a fervour and earnestness, which excited almost national attention, and brought upon them, in varied forms, the malice of their enemies. Hervey, in his beautiful retirement, heard of this, and wrote to Wesley as follows[155]:—

“STOKE ABBEY, _December 1, 1738_.

“MOST DEAR AND REVEREND SIR,—Whom I love and honour in the
Lord: indeed, it is not through any forgetfulness of your
favours, or unconcernedness for your welfare, that, you have
not heard from me, but through the miscarriage of my letter.
Immediately on the news of your first arrival in England, I
made haste to salute you, and wondered why your answer was so
long in coming; but wondered more when I heard you had left the
nation a second time,[156] without being so condescending as to
own me, or so kind as to vouchsafe me a single line. But, now,
sir, that, I am assured under your own hand, that, you have
escaped the perils of the sea, the perils of foreign countries,
the perils of those that oppose the truth; and, that, you,
restored in safety to your native country, are resettled at
Oxon, and both have been doing, and still are doing spiritual
and everlasting good to men,—I may truly say ‘my heart
rejoiceth, even mine.’

“O that I could give you a comfortable account of myself,
and of my zeal for God! Alas! I must confess, with shame and
sorrow, ‘my zeal has been to sit still.’ I am not strong in
body, and am lamentably weak in spirit. Sometimes, my bodily
disorders clog the willing mind, and are a grievous weight upon
its wheels. At other times, the mind is oppressed with sloth,
and thereby rendered listless and indisposed for labouring in
the Lord. Pray for me, dearest sir, and engage all my friends
to cry mightily to Heaven in my behalf, if so be, this dry rod
may bud and blossom; this barren tree may bring forth much
fruit.

“I live in the family of a worthy gentleman, who is a hearty
well-wisher to the cause of pure and undefiled religion; who
desires no greater happiness than to love the Lord Jesus Christ
in sincerity; and who would be glad of a place for himself and
household in your prayers.

“Dear sir, will you permit me to inform you what is said,
though I verily believe slanderously said, of you? It is
reported, that, the dearest friends I have in the world are
setters forth of strange doctrines, that are contrary to
Scripture, and repugnant to the Articles of our Church. This
cannot but give me uneasiness; and I should be glad to have
my fears removed by yourself. It is said, that, you inculcate
faith, without laying stress upon good works; and, that, you
endeavour to dissuade honest tradesmen from following their
occupations, and persuade them to turn preachers. Now, these
calumnies I wish you would give me power to confute, who am,

“Dear sir, your ever obliged and grateful friend,

“J. HERVEY.”

The first of these rumours was a calumny; for, while Wesley inculcated faith, he also strenuously enforced good works. The second was not without foundation; for Wesley himself writes:—

“Joseph Humphrey was the first lay preacher that assisted me in
England, in the year 1738.”[157]

The two Wesleys and Whitefield, full of the love of God, and with faces beaming with peace and joy through believing in Christ Jesus, were now about the most abused men in England. All the churches were closed against them; and fields, streets, and village greens were their chief preaching places. The mob treated them with violence. The clergy used the pulpit in denouncing them. The press was employed in spreading scandalous reports concerning them. Some of their old friends were puzzled, and began to stand aloof from them. But, in the midst of all, they themselves were happy; and were honoured, almost every day, in being made the instruments of turning men from sin to holiness, and from the power of Satan unto God.

Hervey’s health was such, that, even had he wished, he was utterly unable to join his friends in this their bold and marvellously successful out-door mission to the unconverted masses. While they were preaching to assembled thousands on Hannam Mount, Kennington Common, and Blackheath, he was being nursed, with the greatest tenderness, amid the comforts and beauties of Stoke Abbey; and was preaching, as opportunity permitted, and as his strength allowed, in some of the neighbouring churches, and especially in Mr. Thompson’s, of St. Gennys, Cornwall. Though absent, however, he was not forgotten. Whitefield, full of faith and of the Holy Ghost, wrote to him, inquiring whether he had found the same blessings, which he and the Wesleys had. Hervey’s answer was so beautifully ingenuous; and, moreover, is so important as bearing upon the subject of his conversion, that, it is given here without curtailment.

“STOKE ABBEY, _April 4, 1739_.

“DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—Your kind favour, dated March 6, I
received not till yesterday, not returning sooner from worthy
Mr. Thompson’s charge. O that he may not find his dear flock
gone back; but adorned in Christian knowledge, during his
absence from them!

“I thank you for the good news you sent me. Christ enable me to
praise, rejoice, and give thanks on this behalf!

“I am obliged for the searching questions you put to me. Before
I answer them, give me leave to exhort you in the words of the
Psalmist, ‘Try me, my dear and faithful friend, try me, and
seek the ground of my heart, and examine my thoughts; look well
if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way
everlasting.’

“First question, Does the Spirit of God witness with your
spirit that you are a child of God? In truth, I cannot tell.
I have sometimes a comforting hope, that I am a child, and
not an outcast; a true son, and no bastard; but whether this
persuasion cometh of Him that has called men to salvation,
I know not. Whether it be the testimony of the Holy Spirit
witnessing within me, or the whisper of a vain presumption
speaking peace where there is no peace, I am at a loss to
determine. Tell me, dear sir, by what touchstone I shall
distinguish them.

“Second question, Have you peace and joy in the Holy Ghost?
I sometimes do rejoice, and not in carnal satisfactions, but
in hope of the glory which shall be revealed. But the bright
prospect is quickly intercepted; dark clouds of fear intervene;
and sad misgivings of mind throw a damp upon the rising joy.
Sometimes I am blessed with inward peace, and possess my soul
in tranquility; but this also is like our April sun,—very
changeable and short-lived. The sweet calm is broken, and
ruffling gusts of peevishness and uneasiness discompose the
tenour of my mind. I must confess, that, I feel touches of envy
(oh that I could mingle my tears with my ink, as I write!),
motions of pride, hankering after unnecessary sensual delights;
that, I too frequently am destitute of love to my brethren,
of a compassionate long-suffering zeal for their welfare, and
cannot perceive one spark of devotion kindled in my cold heart.
For these things, my soul is, at some intervals, disquieted
within me. Such sad experiences turn my peace into pain; they
destroy my gladness, and fill me with grief.

“Third question, Are we justified by faith only? I answer,
By faith only. Works can have no share in our justification,
because there is iniquity in our holy things. They are done
after an imperfect manner, or from improper views, or sullied
with some secret self-glorying; and, therefore, cannot
recommend _themselves_, much less the _sinful doers_ of them,
to infinite purity. Nay, if God should enter into strict
and rigorous judgment, I fear our best works would deserve
punishment. And to think, that, those performances, which
deserve punishment, can merit, either in whole or in part,
in any measure or degree, an eternal reward, is surely to
misjudge the case. It seems to be as false as to fancy, that,
the addition of some dross would enhance the value, or increase
the lustre, of refined gold. Yet still I believe, that, these
works, poor and mean and imperfect as they are, are absolutely
necessary, and that there is no justification without them. A
tenant upon lease must duly and punctually pay his pepper-corn,
though it be not considered, by the payer or receiver, as of
any worth at all. So, a Christian must exercise himself in all
good works, if he would obtain salvation, though that can add
no worth to the perfect, sufficient, and alone meritorious
sacrifice of Jesus Christ. We must be as careful to maintain
good works, as if our salvation was the purchase of them alone,
and yet renounce them utterly, and rely upon the merits,
death, and intercession of our blessed Saviour, who is made
unto them that believe, not only wisdom, but righteousness,
sanctification, and redemption.

“If I am wrong, be pleased to inform me; and God Almighty give
me a child-like, unprejudiced, teachable spirit! Pray for me,
dear sir, that, my sins, which blind my understanding, may be
subdued; and that; together with a right spirit, I may have a
right judgment in all things. That text, James ii. 24, I dare
not blot out of my Bible, and I cannot put out of my mind.
Indeed, it perplexes me. It makes me unsettled and wavering.
When I think of it, I am ready (ready! nay, ought I not to be
resolved, since the Apostle has put the words into my mouth?)
to alter my reply, and say, not by faith _only_, but by works
(in conjunction with it) a man is justified. Give me leave,
henceforward, to become your pupil in this important doctrine
of Christianity, as I have long been, and ever shall be,

“Your most affectionate friend,

“J. HERVEY.”[158]

The friendship of these Oxford Methodists was most sincere and cordial; but was not unruffled. All was not plain sailing. Breakers were a-head. It is a well-known fact, that, early in the year 1739, Whitefield and Wesley, being shut out of the pulpits of the Established Church, commenced their marvellous career of out-door preaching. Astonishing effects followed. All sorts of rumours were current. Enemies were active, and, as already stated, even friends were staggered. In his Devonshire retreat, Hervey was excited, and wrote to the Rev. Mr. Kinchin, of Dummer, an immensely long letter from which the following is an extract:—

“STOKE ABBEY, _April 18, 1739_.

“DEAR MR. KINCHIN,—This day, a letter informs me, that, my
worthy and ever-esteemed Rector has hearkened to men of
unsound opinions, and is turning aside to their errors;—that,
he is inclined to throw off his gown, renounce the Church of
England, relinquish his Fellowship and living, and become
itinerant preacher. And can I see a friend, who has been kind
to me as a father, is dear to me as a brother,—can I see such a
friend run away with such erroneous and pernicious notions, and
sit silent and unconcerned? No; my affections constrain me; and
I cannot hold my peace. I love him, and, therefore, must speak.
I love him tenderly, and, therefore, must speak freely.”

Here follow twelve printed octavo pages of remonstrance. Hervey then adds:—

“There is no man living that I more sincerely love and honour
than Mr. Wesley. His memory is most dear and deservedly
precious to me; but, yet, I must frankly own, he is liable
to mistakes,—mistakes in religion, and dangerous ones too. I
remember the time when he was fond of the mystic writers; read
one of their leading authors over and over again; and commended
what he read as the best book, next to those that were given
by inspiration. But, within the space of a few months, he saw
his error; retracted his opinions; and inveighed against them
as studiously as he ever extolled them. This I mention only to
show, that, the best designing men,—men of eminent learning
and exemplary devotions,—may be led into false apprehensions
of things. He has arguments, I do not doubt, to support his
tenets, as he had in the former case, and can manage them with
a masterly skill; but, yet, he may be deceived, though he
means only the glory of Christ. Therefore, dear sir, withhold
your assent a little, and do not too easily fall in with his
principles. At least, suspend your determination for awhile;
wait the event; and let that speak for the attempt.

“You see how moderate I am in the matter. I do not exclaim
against the gentlemen who have brought these new doctrines to
our ears. If truth and purer Christianity be on their side,
God forbid, but that I myself and every true-hearted disciple
should go over to their party! Only have a little patience;
tarry thou the issue of things; and let _excitus acta probet_.

“I wonder why they dissuade you from cleaving to the
Establishment. Why do they find fault with our excellent
Church? And why should they entice you from your parish? Sure
we are, that, the Holy Ghost made you overseer over that
little flock; but, that, He has released you from the charge
and called you to another sphere of labour, is not so evident.
There was a time when Mr. Wesley was a warm and able advocate
of the primitive institutions. I marvel, that, he is so soon
removed to another opinion. This is a fresh conviction how
variable his mind is, and, though burning with zeal for God,
yet, given to change. And, having altered so often already, why
may he not alter again, and new-mould his present sentiments as
well as his former?

“They advise you to become an itinerant preacher. But why? I
would gladly know. Is greater perfection to be attained by
wandering into the wide world, and preaching in variety of
places? Or will this way of preaching be more successful and
efficacious? I cannot bring myself to believe this.

“Etc., etc.,

“JAMES HERVEY.”

To some extent, Hervey was evidently misinformed. It is possible, it is not unlikely, that, Wesley and Whitefield had advised their brother Methodist, Mr. Kinchin, to become an itinerant preacher; but there is no evidence, that, they ever wished either him or any of their friends to leave the Established Church, or, that, they ever entertained the idea of leaving the Church themselves. Still, there can be no doubt, that Hervey had heard such reports as these, and was intensely anxious on this account. Hervey refers to the diffusion of “erroneous and pernicious notions.” These were, probably, not so much the doctrines of justification by faith, the witness of the Spirit, and cognate truths, as the things mentioned in the following letter, addressed to Whitefield, three weeks after the foregoing letter was sent to Mr. Kinchin:—

“STOKE ABBEY, _May 10, 1739_.

“DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—I sincerely thank you for your last
letter. I can hardly bring myself to assent to your whole
account of justification by faith. This, perhaps, may proceed
from some obstinate prejudices, rather than from reasonable and
weighty scruple. However, I waive the mention of my objections,
and make the care of my own right faith give place to a concern
for the principles and practices of my dear friends.

“It is reported, and creditably reported, from Oxon, that,
several strange notions have been lately broached there, and
have gained proselytes and espousers among the most hopeful
and promising part of the University. They, who bravely stood
their ground against sin, are become an unhappy prey to error
and delusion. I hope you are not fallen from your once avowed
steadfastness to the truth as it is in Jesus, and as it is
in our excellent Church. It is whispered, indeed, that, the
seducers are practising their arts upon you, and trying to
subvert my dear Mr. Whitefield’s orthodoxy.

“In a late letter, I gave an answer to some queries you were
pleased to put to me. Now, I beg the favour of your opinions
concerning the following doctrines: ‘That, the Distinction,
Order, Degrees, even Robes and Habits of the University are
all Anti-Christian; that, nothing is taught in it, but that
learning and wisdom, which opposes the power of God; that,
whoso is born of God is also taught of God, not in any limited
sense, but, so as to make the use of natural means of no
effect; that, all human learning (however said to be sanctified
of God) entirely disqualifies us for preaching the true Gospel
of Jesus Christ; that, an Established ministry is a mere
invention of men; that, our whole Church and all its authority,
are founded on, and supported by a lie; and, that, all who
receive power of preaching from it, are in a state of slavery,
and must throw off all obedience to it, before they can enjoy
the freedom of the Gospel.

“These tenets, extravagant and pernicious as they are, have
been, I find, studiously advanced; but let them not have the
sanction of your approbation. If they will get abroad into the
world, let them go branded with your dislike and censure.

“JAMES HERVEY.”

Remembering the rumours of the day, such a letter as the above is not surprising. Falsehoods concerning Wesley and his friends were rife. No report was too extravagant to be believed. Unfortunately, Whitefield’s answer to Hervey is not forthcoming; but the invalided recluse was soon led into the way of truth. Hence, the following, also addressed to Whitefield, pointing out the means by which Hervey had been induced to renounce his Oxford Pharisaism, and to embrace the doctrine of salvation by faith in Christ only. The letter is too valuable to be abridged:—

“Yes, dear sir, with pleasure, I send another letter. I rejoice
to find, that, you remember me. I am thankful, that, you
have not renounced a correspondent, made odious by so much
ingratitude.

“You are pleased to ask, How the Holy Ghost convinced me of
self-righteousness, and drove me out of my false rests? Indeed,
sir, I cannot precisely tell. The light was not instantaneous,
but gradual. It did not flash upon my soul, but arose like the
dawning day. A little book, wrote by _Jenks_, upon Submission
to the Righteousness of God, was made serviceable to me. Your
Journals, dear sir, and Sermons, especially that sweet Sermon
upon ‘What think ye of Christ?’ were a means of bringing me to
a knowledge of the truth. And another excellent piece has been,
and I hope will be, as so much precious eye-salve to my dim and
clouded understanding,—I mean ‘_Marshall’s_ Gospel Mystery of
Sanctification.’

“These,—blessed be He, who is a light to them that sit in
darkness!—have, in some degree, convinced me of my former
errors. I now begin to see, that, I have been labouring in
the fire, and wearying myself for very vanity, while I have
attempted to establish my own righteousness. I trusted I knew
not what, while I trusted in some imaginary good deeds of
my own. These are no hiding-place from the storm. They are
a refuge of lies. If I had the meekness of Moses, and the
patience of Job, the zeal of Paul, and the love of John, I
durst not advance the least plea to everlasting life on this
footing. But as for my own beggarly performances,—wretched
righteousness,—gracious, adorable Emmanuel!—I am ashamed; I
am grieved, that I should thrust them into the place of Thy
Divine, Thy inconceivable precious obedience!

“My schemes are altered. I now desire to work in my blessed
Master’s service, not _for_, but, _from_ salvation. I believe,
that, Jesus Christ, the Incarnate God, is my Saviour; that, He
has done all which I was bound to perform; and suffered all
that I was condemned to sustain; and, so, has procured a full,
final, and everlasting salvation for a poor damnable sinner. I
would now fain _serve_ Him who has _saved_ me. I would glorify
Him before _men_, who has justified me before _God_. I would
study to please Him in holiness and righteousness all the days
of my life. I seek this blessing, not as a _condition_, but,
as a _part_,—a choice and inestimable _part_ of that complete
salvation, which Jesus has purchased for me.

“Now, if at any time, I am fervent in devotion,—seem to be in
a gracious frame,—or am enabled to abound in the works of the
Lord,—I endeavour to put no confidence in these bruised reeds,
but to rest upon the Rock of Ages. Not in these, most blessed
Jesus, but in Thy robes of righteousness, let me be found, when
‘God shall call the heavens from above, and the earth, that, He
may judge His people.’

“When, on the other hand, I feel myself most deplorably dead
and deficient,—when I am apt to sigh for my unprofitableness,
and cry out with the prophet, ‘My leanness, my leanness!’ I no
longer comfort myself with saying, ‘Be of good cheer, soul, thy
God requires only _sincere_ obedience, and, perhaps, to-morrow
may be better than this day, and more abundant in acts of
holiness.’ Jesus is now become my salvation, and this is my
song in the house of my pilgrimage,—‘Why art thou cast down, O
my soul?’ Though imperfect in thyself, thou art complete in thy
Head. Though poor in thyself, thou hast unsearchable riches in
thy Divine Surety. The righteousness of Thy obedience, O Lord
Redeemer, is everlasting. O grant me an interest in this, and I
shall live.

“If overtaken by sin, or overcome by temptation, I dare not,
as formerly, call to mind my righteous deeds, and so think to
commute with Divine justice; or quit scores for my offences, by
my duties. I do not, to ease my conscience, or be reconciled
to God, promise stricter watchfulness, more alms, and renewed
fastings. No; in such unhappy circumstances, turn, O my soul!
neither to the right hand nor to the left; but fly instantly to
Him, whom God has set forth for a propitiation. Hide thyself in
His wounded side, and be safe. Wash in His streaming blood, and
be clean.

“If in these, or in other points, I am otherwise minded, than
corresponds with the gospel of truth, cease not, dear sir, to
pray, that, ‘God may reveal even this unto me.’

“But why will not my dear friend come amongst us? Why won’t
he drop his word towards the west? Many, in these parts, long
for your arrival. Many long to hear the joyful sound from your
lips. Many, I am assured, would hail my dear brother with that
acclamation, ‘How beautiful are the feet of him that bringeth
glad tidings; that bringeth glad tidings of good things!’ O
that it would please the Divine Providence to direct your way
unto us! Come, dear sir, come with the fulness of the blessings
of the gospel of peace. Come amongst living multitudes, who
will be attentive to hear you; and come, once more, into the
arms of him who dearly loves you.

“J. HERVEY.”[159]

Hervey and Whitefield were young men, both twenty-five years of age; but they were not novices in religious knowledge. By extensive reading, by conversation, by docility, above all, by the blessed Bible, and by the Spirit’s teaching, they had, at this early period of their history, arrived at theological conclusions, from which they never wavered to the end of life. Exception may be taken to some of the expressions of Hervey in the foregoing letter; and to the Calvinistic views of both; but they _believed_ what they preached; and they undoubtedly thought and felt that their doctrines were founded upon the Divine authority of the sacred Scriptures. It is no part of the plan of the present work to defend or to attack the doctrines taught by the men whose histories are sketched; but simply to furnish honest information respecting their manner of life, their teaching, their religious experience, their success, and the termination of their toil and suffering.

In 1740, Hervey’s health was sufficiently restored to justify his undertaking the curacy of Bideford, where he continued till about the month of July, 1743. His congregation was large, but his stipend small, amounting to not more than £60 a year. Here he planned and partly executed his “Meditations among the Tombs,” and his “Reflections on a Flower Garden.” A ride from Bideford to Kilhampton suggested the former; and the latter were, in part, composed in the summer-house of a pleasant garden, belonging to the family with whom he lodged. At his entrance upon his ministry at Bideford, he wrote as follows to his friend, Mr. Orchard, in whose hospitable mansion he had been so long a guest:—

“Your excellent proposal is not yet put into execution; we have
no evening prayers in public as yet; nay, I have not so much as
communicated the design to my rector. I am shamefully timorous:
lions, giants, and the sons of Anak are much in my thoughts.
I dream (and may it be no more than a dream, and not too real
a presage,) of difficulties, both in getting leave to attempt,
and in getting strength to perform, this spiritual service,
which I owe to my little flock. Your zeal will reproach me with
cowardice; your faith upbraid me with unbelief; but, O, let
your charity and pity pray against both. I hope ere long to
disclose the matter to Mr. Nichols.”

Another letter, written at Bideford, and addressed to Whitefield, will be welcome. It strikingly exhibits the change in Hervey’s views and religious character:—

“BIDEFORD, _1741_.

“DEAR MR. WHITEFIELD,—Your favour struck me with an agreeable
surprise. I verily thought my stubborn silence had razed me
from your remembrance; but, since you still have an affection
for an ungrateful friend, I take this opportunity of returning
my grateful acknowledgments.

“I rejoice to hear the Redeemer’s cause revives. Set up
Thyself, O Incarnate God! above the heavens, and diffuse Thy
glory through all the earth! Let Thy enemies perish, O Lord!
Let disappointments attend the attempts of Thy foes and the
devices of hell; but let Thy servants be prosperous, and their
message crowned with success!

“Dear sir, I cannot boast of trophies erected here by the
Captain of our salvation; but, I hope, the arm of the Lord
will be revealed more and more among us. I hope, the triumphs
of free grace will have wider spread and free course, and will
prevail mightily over our unbelief. I own, with shame and
sorrow, that, I have been too long a blind leader of the blind.
I have perverted the good ways of God, and have darkened the
glory of redeeming merit and sovereign grace. I have dared
to invade the prerogatives of an all-sufficient Saviour, and
to pluck the crown off His head. I have derogated from the
honours, the everlasting and incommunicable honours of Jesus.
I have presumed to give works a share in the redemption and
recovery of a lost sinner; and have placed those filthy rags
upon the throne of the Lamb; and, by that means, debased the
Saviour, and exalted the sinner.

“But, I trust, the Divine truth begins to dawn upon my soul.
Was I possest of all the righteous acts that have made saints
and martyrs famous in all generations,—could they all be
transferred to me, and might I call them all my own,—I would
renounce them all that I might win Christ. I would not dare to
appear before the bright and burning eye of God with such hay,
straw, and stubble. No, dear sir, I would long to be clothed in
a Mediator’s righteousness, and ascribe all my salvation to the
most unmerited and freest grace.

“Dear sir, cease not to pray for me; desist not to counsel me;
since, I perceive, you cannot forbear to love me.

“I am,” etc.,

“J. HERVEY.”

In the discharge of his ministerial duties at Bideford Hervey was exemplary. He preached twice every Sunday; and, on Tuesdays and Fridays, expounded part of one of the Lessons for the day; except when he examined the children, and gave explanations of the Church’s Catechism. Like his friends Wesley and Whitefield, he also formed a religious society, which continued to meet above forty years. This brought upon him considerable reproach; but, “so far from being ashamed” of what he had done, he wrote,—

“I am only ashamed of the inconsiderable assistance which I am
able to contribute to so worthy an attempt. Ashamed! no; but
if it were lawful for a Christian to glory in anything beside
the cross of Christ, this should be matter of glory and triumph
to me. Their scorns, derision, and mockery, I would bind on my
head as a beautiful crown, and be better pleased with such a
character, than with an ornament of gold about my neck.”[160]

Brave words were these! The Wesleys and Whitefield were encountering murderous mobs in all directions; and, so far from complaining, were “rejoicing, that, they were counted worthy to suffer shame for the name of Jesus Christ.” The feebleness of Hervey’s body rendered it impossible for him to undertake the rough mission work, which was so zealously undertaken by his friends; but, the Christian heroism of his soul, rendered him not unworthy of their brotherhood. The men, one and all, were animated with the spirit of “the noble army of martyrs;” and, at any moment, were prepared to die for the sake of the Lord Jesus. No wonder, that, such men were successful, and, that, their memories are wreathed with unfading laurels; while the names of their “enemies, persecutors, and slanderers,” are either forgotten, or only remembered with contempt.

The Rev. Mr. Nichols, the Rector of Bideford, died early in the year 1741, only a few months after Hervey had entered upon his labours there; and, as the Bideford living was a valuable one, there were a considerable number of aspirants after it. On March 2, 1741, Hervey wrote to a friend as follows:—

“You have heard, I do not doubt, that, Mr. Nichols, my rector,
is no more: who will succeed him is yet a secret. Many, I
believe, are eagerly wishing for it, as a place of considerable
profit, but few, perhaps, are solicitously considering whether
they are equal to the discharge of so difficult and important
a service. But hold, my pen: what have I to do to judge
others? Let it be all my care to approve myself faithful in my
appointed station.”

Shortly after this, Hervey was summoned home, on account of the serious illness of his father. Hence the following:—

“WESTON, _May 30, 1741_.

“DEAR MR. W.⸺,—’Tis late, midnight drawing on, and the Sabbath
approaches; but I must snatch a few minutes to tell my dear
friend the good news. My father is made whole; quite freed from
his pains; quite cured of his disorders; and almost in a new
world. Deep, indeed, was his distress; grievous his affliction;
but now the clouds are over and gone, and the voice of joy and
health is restored to his dwelling.

“Now, therefore, I am free: I have no engagement here. My
father, it is true, offers me a curacy; but, if Mr. ⸺ chooses
it, and my dear people think it may contribute in any measure
to their spiritual benefit, nothing hinders but I may return
to Bideford: Return, and address them much in the same strain
as Peter bespoke the impotent man: ‘Eloquence and oratory,
learning and accomplishments have I none; but such as I have,
in the name of Jesus, give I you,’ ”From your affectionate
friend,

“J. HERVEY.”[161]

Hervey did return to Bideford; but, at the end of about two years, the new rector dismissed him, against the united request of his parishioners, who offered to maintain him at their own expense. This, to a man of Hervey’s exquisite sensitiveness of feeling, was no trivial trial. To the people of Bideford he was devotedly attached. He writes, while still among them:—

“I live in the very heart of the town. O that the immortal
interests of its inhabitants may be ever on my heart! May I
covet no other prosperity, and pursue no other happiness, than
to be an instrument of doing them some spiritual good! I hope,
I shall never forget my dear people of Bideford. I shall bear
them upon my heart, when I retire into my study for reading,
when I walk solitary in the fields for exercise, and when I
bend my knees before the God and Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ.”

And again, after he had left them:—

“I rejoice to hear that dear Mr. Thompson[162] proposes to make
you a monthly visit. O that his doctrine may distil as the dew!
He will teach you the way of God more perfectly, for he has the
unction of the Holy One, and knows the truth as it is in Jesus.
There will not be wanting those who will censure his righteous
dealings, and ridicule his zeal for the glorious Redeemer; but
all those who have Jesus and His salvation, will say, ‘The Lord
prosper you!’ If any of my acquaintances think it worth their
while to hear from me, I shall, with as much pleasure, go to my
desk and write to them, as I formerly went to their houses and
conversed with them. I assure you, I would still seek to please
my people for their good to edification.”

Before following Hervey to his next sphere of labour, further extracts from his correspondence, at and about this period, will help to illustrate his character.

Hervey was an earnestly religious man, a devout student of the holy Bible, and an extensive reader of pious authors, but he was also a lover of at least some of the light and popular literature of the age. Hence the following to his sister:—

“BIDEFORD, _October 12, 1742_.

“See how our judgments and inclinations alter in process of
time! I once thought, I should make less use of the _Spectator_
than you; but now, I believe, the reverse of this is true; for
we read one or more of these elegant and instructive papers
every morning at breakfast, and they are served up with our
tea, according to their original design. We reckon our repast
imperfect without a little of Mr. Addison’s or Mr. Steele’s
company.”

Such a confession is not surprising in a man who was now employed in writing “Meditations among the Tombs,” and “Reflections on a Flower Garden.”

Hervey seems to have left Bideford in the month of July, 1743; but, on his way to Northamptonshire, he halted at Bath, where he resided several weeks, and wrote a number of his most interesting letters. The following are extracts from some of them:—

“DEAR MRS. A⸺,—I am got as far as Bath, in my way homeward; and
here I am likely to make a considerable stay. My friend, Mr.
C⸺,[163] has taken a trip into Devon, and left me entrusted
with his flock: so that, here is my abode till his return
releases me.

“Sunday last[164] I spent at Bristol, attending Mr.
Whitefield’s preaching. Never have I seen, never have I read,
so remarkable an accomplishment of our Lord’s promise, as is
evident in that indefatigable, powerful preacher. He does
indeed believe in his Divine Master, and _out of his heart flow
rivers of living waters_.

“This afternoon, some hopeful young persons came to visit me.
They seemed to be in the number of those who are pressing
forward unto the prize of their high calling in Christ Jesus.
Perceiving them to be thus minded, I introduced a discourse
concerning growth in grace,” etc.[165]

The next furnishes a glimpse of Bath a hundred and thirty years ago.

TO MRS. ORCHARD.

BATH, _August 10, 1743_.

“MADAM,—I expected to have been at home before this time; but,
as I have dropped short at Bath, and am likely to continue here
awhile, you will give me leave to transmit my best wishes from
hence.

“There is a good deal of company at Bath. A new mineral water
is found out, about a mile distant from the city. It is grown
into considerable repute, and is much frequented. Several of
the nobility and gentry drink it constantly. It will not bear
bottling, and, for that reason, must be used on the spot. It is
called the Lincomb Spa.

“The latter season is approaching, which, you know, madam,
brings abundance of strangers with it. Some invalids resort
to the English Bethesda; some, as lovers of pleasure, to this
mart for all manner of diversions. Every one seems studious
of making a gay and grand appearance. It is, I think, one of
the most glittering places I ever beheld. ‘Anointed with oil,
crowned with rose-buds, and decked with purple and fine linen,’
they sport away their days, chanting to the sound of the viol,
drinking wine in bowls, and stretching themselves on couches
of ivory; and, perhaps, never remembering the afflictions of
Jesus, nor His love, ‘which is better than wine,’ nor His name,
‘which is as ointment poured forth.’

“While they are contriving every art to embellish their
persons, let us, dear madam, give all diligence to be
all-glorious within. While they are studying to outvie the
butterfly and the tulip, let us be animated by higher views,
and put on the Lord Jesus Christ,” etc....

“And now, madam, will you permit me to anticipate a remark
which you will naturally make. Shall I spare you the necessity
of saying, Why here is a sermon instead of a letter.

“Indeed, madam, if it be a sermon, the Bath finery has
furnished me with a text.

“And why, good madam, should not the world expect such
sermon-like epistles from us ministers? Why will not they let
us be comformable to ourselves, and act in character? Would you
not expect to hear of engagements and victories from a soldier
just come from making a campaign? Would any one be surprised to
find a merchant discoursing of foreign affairs, or canvassing
the state of trade? Nay, is it not allowable even for our
tailor and milliner to talk of the newest fashions and most
modish colour? Why, then, should not the agents for the court
of heaven treat of heavenly things? Why should not their whole
conversation savour of their calling? Why should they be one
thing when they bend the knee, and another when they put pen
to paper? Why act one part when they speak from the pulpit,
and quite a different one when they converse in the parlour?
To say the truth, madam, if you do not allow me this liberty,
I may pretend, indeed, but can never act the grateful, the
affectionate, the faithful, humble servant.”

The following is an extract from an enormously long letter, of eighteen printed pages, addressed to a clergyman, who had been preaching in the Abbey Church.

“BATH, _August 27, 1743_.

“REVEREND SIR,—Sunday last, I happened not to be at the Abbey
Church in the afternoon; but, conversing with a gentleman who
was one of your auditors, I desired to have a summary account
of your sermon. And, truly, he gave me such an account as both
astonished and grieved me. You dignified worldly prosperity at
so extraordinary a rate, and almost canonized the prosperous
man. On the other hand, you vilified the glorious Jesus in
so scandalous a manner, and set the Incarnate Godhead to
one of the most ignoble and abominable offices. This made me
encourage my friend to send you a word of admonition; and, when
he declined, I could not forbear undertaking it myself. For,
it would be unkind to you, sir, to perceive you under such
grievous mistakes, and not to warn you of the error of your
ways. Nor would it be less unfaithful to your Master, and my
Master, to be informed of such preaching, and suffer it to pass
current, without any animadversion.

“I understand, you first exhorted people to rejoice, when
their circumstances were affluent and their worldly affairs
prosperous. You enforced this palatable advice by the precepts
of Scripture; and, lest it should not be received with a proper
welcome, you further urged it on your hearers by the example of
our blessed Saviour.

“In opposition to this strain of teaching, permit me to
observe, 1. That, worldly prosperity is no sufficient cause
for a Christian to rejoice. 2. That, it is often one of the
sorest evils that can befal a person. And 3. Allow me to sketch
out the true nature of spiritual prosperity; or discover what
is that solid ground for rejoicing, which the oracles of God
recommend.”

These were the three points explained and enforced in Hervey’s pungent and scorching letter, sent to the clerical sycophant, who, because the sinners, in his crowded church, were fashionable ones, imitated, not the honest Baptist of Scripture history, but the dangerous Syren of ancient mythology, and flattered the rich and elegantly dressed “children of wrath” who sat before him, instead of reproving their sins, and proclaiming their danger. Hervey was still young in years; but the unfaithful preacher deserved all he got.

This was not the only rebuke which Hervey administered during his brief residence in the gay city of the west. At this period, Bath was, perhaps, the most fashionable place in Great Britain; and the most renowned man in Bath was Richard, commonly called “Beau,” Nash. Four years before, this accomplished rake had endeavoured to prevent Wesley preaching in the city where, by a sort of general consent, he acted as the king of all the fops and fashionables there assembled; but Nash was not a match for the poor, persecuted Methodist; and, smarting from Wesley’s keen retort, and stung by an old woman’s taunts, was glad to sneak away from a scene of conflict of his own creating. Beau Nash was still in power; and now young Hervey addressed to him the following faithful, and caustic letter,—