Chapter L: Tyerman (12)

“SIR,—This comes from your sincere friend, and one, who has
your best interest deeply at heart. It comes on a design
altogether important, and of no less consequence than your
everlasting happiness; so that, it may justly challenge your
careful regard. It is not to upbraid or reproach, much less
to triumph and insult over your misconduct. No; it is pure
benevolence,—it is disinterested good-will which prompts me
to write; so that, I hope, I will not raise your resentment.
However, be the issue what it will, I cannot bear to see
you walk in the paths that lead to death, without warning
you of your danger,—without sounding in your ears the awful
admonition, ‘Return and live;—for why will you die?’ I beg of
you to consider, whether you do not, in some measure, resemble
those accursed children of Eli, whom, though they were famous
in their generation, and men of renown, yet, vengeance suffered
not to live. For my part, I may safely use the expostulation
of the old priest,—‘Why do you such things? For I hear of your
evil dealings by all this people; nay, my brother, for it is no
good report I hear; you make the Lord’s people to transgress.’

“I have long observed and pitied you: and a most melancholy
spectacle, I lately beheld, made me resolve to caution you,
lest you also come into the same condemnation.

“I was, not long since, called to visit a poor gentleman,
erewhile of the most robust body and gayest temper I ever knew;
but, when I visited him, oh! how was the glory departed from
him! I found him no more that sprightly and vivacious son of
joy which he used to be; but languishing, pining away, and
withering under the chastising hand of God: his limbs feeble
and trembling; his countenance forlorn and ghastly; and the
little breath he had left sobbed out in sorrowful sighs; his
body hastening apace to the dust, to lodge in the silent grave,
the land of darkness and desolation; his soul just going to
God who gave it, preparing itself to wing its way to its long
home, to enter upon an unchangeable and eternal state. When I
was come up into his chamber, and had seated myself on his bed,
he first cast a most wishful look upon me, and then began, as
well as he was able, to speak. ‘Oh! that I had been wise, that
I had known this, that I had considered my latter end! Ah! Mr.
H⸺y, death is knocking at my doors; in a few hours more, I
shall draw my last gasp, and, then, judgment, the tremendous
judgment! How shall I appear, unprepared as I am, before the
all-knowing and Omnipotent God? How shall I endure the day
of His coming?’ When I mentioned, among other things, that
_strict holiness_ which he had formerly so lightly esteemed,
he replied, with a hasty eagerness, ‘Oh! that _holiness_ is
the only thing I now long for. I have not words to tell you
how highly I value it. I would gladly part with all my estate,
large as it is, or a world, to obtain it. Now my benighted
eyes are enlightened. I clearly discern the things that are
excellent. What is there in the place whither I am going but
God? Or what is there to be desired on earth but religion?’
But, if this God should restore you to health, said I, think
you that you would alter your former course? ‘I call heaven and
earth to witness,’ said he, ‘I would labour for holiness as I
shall soon labour for life. As for riches and pleasures and the
applauses of men, I account them as dross and dung; no more
to my happiness than the feathers that lie on the floor. Oh!
if the righteous Judge would try me once more; if He would but
reprieve and spare me a little longer;—in what a spirit would I
spend the remainder of my days! I would know no other business,
aim at no other end, than perfecting myself in holiness.
Whatever contributed to that,—every means of grace,—every
opportunity of spiritual improvement,—should be dearer to me
than thousands of gold and silver. But alas! why do I amuse
myself with fond imaginations? The best resolutions are now
insignificant, because they are too late. The day in which I
should have worked is over and gone; and I see a sad horrible
night approaching, bringing with it the blackness of darkness
for ever. Heretofore, (woe is me!) when God called, I refused;
when He invited, I was one of them that made excuse; now,
therefore, I receive the reward of my deeds. Fearfulness and
trembling are come upon me. I smart; I am in anguish already;
and yet this is but the beginning of sorrows! It doth not yet
appear what I shall be;—but sure I shall be ruined, undone, and
destroyed with an everlasting destruction.’

“This sad scene I saw with my eyes; these words, and many
more equally affecting, I heard with my ears; and soon after
attended the unhappy gentleman to his tomb. The poor breathless
skeleton spoke in such an accent, and with so much earnestness,
that I could not easily forget him or his words; and, as I was
musing upon this sorrowful subject, I remembered Mr. Nash;—I
remembered you, sir;—for I discerned too near an agreement
and correspondence between the deceased and yourself. They,
are alike, said I, in their ways; and what shall hinder them
from being alike in their end? The course of their actions was
equally full of sin and folly; and why should not the period of
them be equally full of horror and distress? I am grievously
afraid for the survivor, least, as he lives the life, so he
should die the death of this wretched man, and his latter end
should be like his.

“For this cause, therefore, I take my pen, to advise,—to
admonish,—nay, to request of you to repent while you have
opportunity, if happily you may find grace and forgiveness. Yet
a moment, and you _may_ die: yet a little while, and you _must_
die; and will you go down with infamy and despair to the grave,
rather than depart in peace, and with hopes full of immortality?

“But I must tell you plainly, sir, with the utmost freedom,
that, your present behaviour is not the way to reconcile
yourself to God. You are so far from making atonement to
offended justice, that you are aggravating the former account,
and heaping up an increase of wrath against the day of wrath.
For what say the Scriptures? Those books which, at the
consummation of all things, the Ancient of days shall open,
and judge you by every jot and tittle therein—what say these
sacred volumes? Why, they testify and declare to every soul
of man, ‘That, whosoever liveth in pleasure is dead while he
liveth’; so that, so long as you roll on in a continued circle
of sensual delights and vain entertainments, you are dead to
all the purposes of piety and virtue; you are odious to God,
as a corrupt carcass putrifying in the church-yard; you are as
far from doing your duty, or working out your salvation, or
restoring yourself to the divine favour, as a heap of dry bones
nailed up in a coffin is from vigour and activity.

“Think, sir, I conjure you, think upon this, if you have any
inclination to escape the fire that never will be quenched.
Would you be rescued from the fury and fierce anger of Almighty
God? Would you be delivered from weeping, and wailing, and
incessant gnashing of teeth? Sure you would! Then, I exhort
you as a friend; I beseech you as a brother; I charge you as
a messenger from the great God, in His own most solemn words:
‘Cast away from you your transgressions; make you a new heart
and a new spirit; so iniquity shall not be your ruin.’

“Perhaps you may be disposed to contemn this and its serious
import, or to recommend it to your companions as a fit subject
for raillery; but, let me tell you beforehand, that for this,
as well as for other things, God will bring you into judgment.
He sees me now write. He will observe you while you read.
He notes down my words in His book. He will note down your
consequent procedure. So that, not upon me, but, upon your own
self, will the neglecting or despising of my sayings turn. ‘If
thou be wise, thou shalt be wise for thyself; if thou scornest,
thou alone shalt bear it.’

“Be not concerned, sir, to know my name. It is enough that you
will know this hereafter. Tarry but a little, till the Lord,
even the most mighty God, shall call the heaven from above, and
the earth, that He may judge His people, and then you will see
me face to face. There shall I be ready, at the dread tribunal,
to joy and rejoice with you, if you regard my admonitions, and
live; or to be—what God prevent—by not inclining your heart to
receive this friendly admonition.”

This was plain dealing; but was greatly needed. To write such a letter, to such a man,—an accomplished gallant, exercising sovereignty over nearly all the fashionable residents of a gambling, dissipated city,—required no ordinary courage in a young clergyman, who had not yet attained his thirtieth year. How it was received, and what were its effects, we are left to guess; but it is a curious fact, that, it was not destroyed, but was found among Nash’s papers after his decease.

Leaving Bath, Hervey, in October, 1743, became curate to his father, at Weston-Favel, a small village of three or four hundred inhabitants, near Northampton; and here, in this rural seclusion, he continued to reside (with the exception of a short interval) until his death, in 1758.

His pastoral duties were comparatively light; but his time was not unoccupied. Compared with the career of Wesley and Whitefield, who were living a rough, itinerant life, this settlement of Hervey was a perfect contrast; but, it must be borne in mind, that, Hervey was physically unfit for the out-door preaching, which his two old Oxford friends were practising. His voice was unsuitable for such exercises. The exposure to rain, frost, and snow, would have made his brief life briefer still. Besides, the delicate gentleness of his nature totally disqualified him for encountering the hardships, privations, and persecutions of Wesley and Whitefield’s wandering life. It would be hasty to say, that, he was lacking in faith, love, zeal, prayer, and religious energy. He possessed all these in a far more than ordinary degree. In this respect he had but few equals, and scarcely any superiors. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak. To imitate Wesley, Whitefield, Grimshaw, Berridge, was simply impossible; but Hervey did all he could. He most conscientiously cared for the souls of his handful of parishioners; and as conscientiously employed his leisure, not only in writing long religious letters to his absent friends, but, in composing books, which, as every one admits, breathe the devoutest piety, and which have been read, with pleasure and with profit, by thousands belonging to each successive generation during the last hundred and twenty years. Hervey’s life was not a failure, because the last fifteen years of it were spent in a secluded country village.

Apart from his ministerial duties, the first labour to which his attention was devoted, after his settlement at Weston-Favel, was the finishing and the publication of the well-known works begun in Devonshire, namely, “Meditations among the Tombs,” and “Reflections on a Flower Garden.” Hence the following:—

“AT MR. THOMAS HERVEY’S, IN BASINGHALL STREET, LONDON, _May 23, 1745_.

“DEAR MR. ⸺,—You will be surprised when you observe the place
from whence this letter is dated. Prevailed on by the kind
solicitations of my friends, I have taken a trip to London,
where I propose to continue about a fortnight.

“Your last two favours I received together. I thank you for the
specimen of types. I hope better paper is intended to be used,
than that whereon the types were printed; which I think coarse
and slovenly. I am most inclined to send abroad the pieces in
a matrimonial state: I mean, not in separate pamphlets, but
united in a volume. They seem to be a contrast to each other,
and may, perhaps, mutually recommend one another. Probably the
‘Meditations among the Tombs’ may carry too doleful an aspect;
and, if not enlivened a little with the brighter scenes of
‘The Garden,’ may terrify the reader, and create disgust. I
shall take an opportunity of talking with Mr. Richardson on
this affair; and shall, if he takes the trouble of perusing
it, put one of the letters into his hands: though it must be
the mourning piece, because I have no copy of the gayer essay,
but what is in shorthand. What you hint at, with regard to the
largeness of the character, that old and enfeebled eyes may be
able to read it, is perfectly right. I shall desire that this
suggestion may be observed.

“I hope your ingenious friend has examined the piece, with a
kind severity, by this time. It will be a favour if you will
give me a line while I abide in the city; and a greater, if you
will inform me of Mr. S—h—m’s opinion, and transmit me some
of his remarks. Before I sent the ‘Reflections’ to Bath, Mr.
Payne, brother to our old acquaintance, gave them a reading. He
frankly acquainted me, in a letter, both with what he liked,
and what he disapproved of. He advised me to expunge the long
note relating to Mr. Pope’s opinion.[166] He is a Fellow of
King’s College, and a very ingenious scholar. Upon the whole,
he declared himself pleased with the performance, and marked
out several places that struck his fancy in a peculiar manner.

“My heart’s desire and prayer to God is, that it may be, in
some degree, serviceable to the interests of religion: which
end, of all others most desirable and important, if it may be
so happy as to promote, I shall rejoice in the publication.
Otherwise, may Providence, which discerns the remotest
consequences of every transaction, not give it an imprimatur.

“I have no motto for the thoughts among the tombs.[167] Does
any fine passage, from the ancients or moderns, proper to
introduce and give credit to such serious remarks, occur to
your mind?

“Now, perhaps, you will expect to hear how I proceed in London.
I intend, sir, to see and hear as much as I possibly can, in
the space allotted for my stay. I have thoughts of going,
incog., to the places of teaching and worship, frequented
by persons of every denomination. ‘Try all things,’ is the
Apostle’s permission; ‘Hold fast that which is good,’ is his
direction. I shall indulge myself in the one; may I be enabled
to put in practice the other!

“I believe it will be my most prudent course not to visit a
certain lady. If I debar myself that pleasure, it will be
entirely owing to an apprehension of wounding my own ease
and tranquility. Who knows what impressions may be made by
an amiable person and engaging behaviour, heightened by the
exercise of good sense, and completed by an apparent regard for
religion and eternity? Indeed, sir, I must own, my heart is not
proof against such charms.

“Since I wrote the preceding, I have heard our old
acquaintance.[168] He preached upon, ‘The gift of the Holy
Ghost:’ showed what fruits it produced in the heart and life;
then applied the whole by way of examination, in a searching
and very forcible manner. May I never forget what was uttered
this night! Might I but experience it, I should bless the
day in which I was born. I have room to add no more, than my
service to Mrs. ⸺; and that the favour must be speedy, if you
intend me a letter while in London.

“Yours affectionately,

“J. HERVEY.”[169]

An extract from another letter, on the same subject, may not be unacceptable. Probably it was addressed to Dr. Doddridge.

“WESTON-FAVEL, _Nov. 16, 1745_.

“SIR,—It is not easy to express the satisfaction, I received
from your agreeable and useful conversation this afternoon. I
rejoice to find that there are gentlemen of genius, learning,
and politeness, who dare profess a supreme value for the
Scriptures, and are not ashamed of the cross of Christ.

“This brings the dedication and the preface, which are to
introduce a little essay, entitled, ‘Meditations among the
Tombs,’ and ‘Reflections on a Flower Garden,’ in two letters
to a lady. I hope, sir, in consequence of your kind promise,
you will please to peruse them with the file in your hand. The
severity of the critic, and the kindness of the friend, in this
case, will be inseparable. The evangelical strain, I believe,
must be preserved; because, otherwise, the introductory
thoughts will not harmonize with the subsequent, the porch
will be unsuitable to the building. But, if you perceive any
meanness of expression, any quaintness of sentiment, or any
other impropriety and inelegance, I shall acknowledge it as a
very singular favour, if you will be so good as to discover and
correct such blemishes.

“I hope, sir, my end in venturing to publish is a hearty desire
to serve, in some little degree, the interests of Christianity,
by endeavouring to set some of its most important truths in
a light that may both entertain and edify. As I profess this
view, I am certain, your affectionate regard for the most
excellent religion imaginable, will incline you to be concerned
for the issue of such an attempt; and, therefore, to contribute
to its success, both by bestowing your animadversions upon
these small parts, and by speaking of the whole (when it shall
come abroad) with all that candour which is natural to the
Christian, and will be so greatly needed by this new adventurer
in letters, who is, etc.,

“J. HERVEY.”

Hervey’s book, referred to in these letters, was published in 1746, the size, 8vo., the pages, 216. The lady to whom it was dedicated was the daughter of his friend, the Rev. Mr. Thompson, Vicar of St. Gennys, Cornwall. The book is too well known to render an account of its contents necessary; but a brief extract from the preface will show the objects at which he aimed.

“The first of these occasional Meditations begs leave to
remind my readers of their latter end; and would invite them
to set, not their houses only, but, which is inexpressibly
more needful, their souls in order; that they may be able,
through all the intermediate stages, to look forward upon their
approaching exit, without any anxious apprehension.

“The other attempts to sketch out some little traces of the
All-sufficiency of our Redeemer, for the grand and gracious
purposes of our everlasting salvation; that a sense of His
unutterable dignity and infinite perfections may incite us to
regard Him with sentiments of the most profound veneration, to
long for an assured interest in His merits, and to trust in His
powerful mediation, with an affiance not to be shaken by any
temptation, not to be shared with any performances of our own.”

During the year 1746, Hervey wrote to a friend several long and very valuable letters on the doctrine of the Trinity. These may be found in his collected works, and are well worth reading. He also, as was his usage, carried on an extensive correspondence concerning experimental and practical religion; and his letters, belonging to this class, though occasionally verbose and fanciful, are characterized by the devoutest piety. None but a godly man could have written them; and none but godly people will peruse them. Many of them are almost little sermons, and all of them are rich in religious truth. In the days of penny postage, letters like these are rarely written; and it is greatly to be feared, that, English biographers in future centuries, will find a vexatious lack of biographical material belonging to this. People are too busy to write long letters; and, were it otherwise, the removal of the heavy postage of olden times has taken away one of the chief stimulants to make a letter longer than the pressing necessities of the case demand. Besides, locomotion is now so easy, cheap, and rapid, that friends, instead of sending their secrets to each other, in a written form, prefer to make a railway trip, and to tell them _viva voce_. Things were widely different a hundred years ago; and, hence, the extensiveness, richness, the fulness, and detail, the confidential gossip, and the heart-outpourings found in the correspondence of our English ancestors. They wrote letters: their grandsons send telegrams. The letters are of the greatest use to those who wish to become biographers. The telegrams are usually burnt as soon as they are read. In former days, letters were too long, interesting, and valuable to be destroyed. At the present day, they are too brief and common-place, to be worth preserving. The results of such a change in the epistolary habits of the people, are not felt at present; but they will be bitterly lamented in the approaching future.

Not to mention other distinguished men belonging to the past, the most eminent of the Oxford Methodists all excelled in epistolary correspondence. Wesley’s collected works alone contain nine hundred and twenty-three of his private letters; Whitefield’s works, when published, even more than a hundred years ago, contained one thousand four hundred and sixty-five; while the works of short-lived Hervey, by far the _longest_ letter writer of the three, contain two hundred and nine, to all of which must be added hundreds more, published in other forms.

In a book like this, it is impracticable to do more than very sparingly employ such copious materials; and nearly all that is attempted, in the case of Hervey, is to give only extracts containing incidents. These, however, shall be as exhaustive as possible. Proceeding on this plan, the following belong to the year when Hervey first became an author.

Hervey’s charity to the poor was only limited by his means, and even such a limit was sometimes overstepped. At Bideford, for instance, such was his unbounded benevolence, that, to prevent embarrassment, his friends practised upon him the innocent deception of borrowing his money when he received his salary, lest he should disperse it all in benefactions; and then repaying it as his necessities required. All the profits of his ‘Meditations,’ amounting to £700 pounds, he distributed in charitable donations; and directed that any profit, arising from the sale of his books after his decease, should be used in the same manner.

“This,” said he, “I have devoted to God. I will, on no account,
apply it to any worldly uses. I write, not for profit, nor
fame, but, to serve the cause of God; and as He hath blessed my
attempt, I think myself bound to relieve the distresses of my
fellow-creatures with the profits that come from this quarter.”

The following extract is in harmony with this:—

“WESTON-FAVEL, _Feb. 2, 1746_.

“DEAR MR. W⸺,—Your spouse informed me, you were concerned, that
the little money, I left in your hands, had not been remitted
to me; but, dear sir, I am glad on this account. If it may be
the means of cherishing one of the least of our Redeemer’s
brethren, I rejoice that it has not been returned.

“You did right in delivering a guinea to Mrs. Williams, for
the benefit of poor widow Cole. If Molly Lake, or Betty Peak,
are in want, by all means, let them be relieved. Tell them,
I present them each with a crown; and bid them think, if a
poor mortal, a wretched sinner, is so ready to help them,
according to his ability, how much more ready is the infinitely
compassionate Saviour of the world to pity all their miseries,
and comfort them in all their troubles. Were it in my power,
I would willingly do more for them; but let them remember
that the power of the blessed Jesus knows no limits. Oh, it
is impossible to imagine how rich our Divine Master is in
goodness, and how mighty in power!”[170]

Every one knows that, in 1745, England was thrown into a state of the utmost excitement, by the landing of Charles Edward Stuart, and his Scotch and Irish adherents, and by the futile march to Manchester, and subsequent retreat to Culloden. The following refers to this and other matters:—

“WESTON-FAVEL, _Feb. 9, 1746_.

“Thanks to you, dear sir, for your kind wishes. Blessed be the
Divine Providence! I am now able to inform you, that what you
wished is accomplished. I have had one of the most agreeable
losses I ever met with. I have lost my indisposition, and am,
in a manner, quite well.

“I congratulate you, sir, and my country, on the good news
received from the north.

“How do you like Stackhouse’s History of the Bible? I am
sure, he has one advantage superior to all the historians of
the world, namely, that, the facts, which he relates, are
more venerable for their antiquity, more admirable for their
grandeur, and more important on account of their universal
usefulness. The Scriptures are finely calculated to furnish the
most exquisite entertainment to the imagination, from those
three principal sources, mentioned by Mr. Addison,—the great,
the beautiful, and the new.”

The next was written to his Cornish friend, the Rev. Mr. Thompson, of St. Gennys,—a gentleman possessed of considerable property, and whose family seat was at Brynsworthy, near Barnstaple, in Devonshire.

“WESTON, _June 28, 1746_.

“DEAR MR. THOMPSON,—Your last gave me hopes of the speedy
receipt of another letter; in pleasing expectation of which, I
have waited thus long. But now my pen refuses to be restrained,
and, therefore, writes to the friend whom its master honours,
and loves from his very soul.

“I presume, this will find you at Brynsworthy, that agreeable
seat, where, three years ago, I passed several delightful
weeks. Oh! when shall I spend my hours of conversation so much
to my improvement!

“I very much want to know something relating to the condition
and conduct of my old acquaintance. When were you at the
Abbey?[171] When did you favour Bideford with your company? How
goes on the good cause among the people lately committed to my
care? How are your lectures prospered at your own and Mr. B⸺’s
Churches?[172] Have you heard of Mr. S⸺? Where is he settled,
and how does he proceed? Is Mr. W⸺’s abode in your parts? I
hope, his manner of life answers your expectations of him; and,
I hope, your acts of kindness and words of exhortation have not
been in vain. Have you received any tidings of, or from, Mr.
Walker?

“One more question permit me to ask, and I have done with my
interrogatories. Did not a certain Cornish clergyman take a
journey to Exeter some time ago, on a very particular occasion?
Was he not summoned to appear before the bishop of the diocese,
in order to give an account of his behaviour and zeal?

“If you have any knowledge of this remarkable affair, (and I
believe it will be impossible to apply to one who knows it more
perfectly), be pleased to favour me with a narrative of its
occasion, its circumstances, and its issue. I imagine an answer
to this one query, will furnish materials for a very long
letter.[173]

“We had this week a very heavy storm of rain, attended with a
surprising darkness, awful thunders, and fierce lightnings.
At a celebrated fair, that was held upon a spacious common in
this neighbourhood, several persons were struck down with the
flashes, and one poor man, with two horses, killed upon the
spot.

“I congratulate you, dear sir, and my country in general, on
the late most important and happy victory obtained by the
gallant Duke of Cumberland. We can never be sufficiently
thankful to the God of the armies of Israel for turning the
scale of war in our favour at that ever-memorable event.[174]

“My little piece, entitled ‘Meditations among the Tombs’
and ‘Reflections on a Flower Garden,’ has been published a
considerable time.[175] I have taken the liberty to dedicate it
to Miss R. Thompson; and, was I near, or had I the opportunity
of conveyance, would desire Miss C. Thompson to accept one of
the books. The thing, I am told, finds acceptance with the
public, greater indeed than I durst expect. Mr. Richardson,
the author of ‘Pamela,’ is my printer. Seven hundred and
fifty copies are struck off; the printer and writer are joint
adventurers with regard to pecuniary advantages, if any such
should accrue from the sale. If, at some leisure moment, you
should happen to cast a glance upon the lines, mark, dear sir,
their blemishes, correct their improprieties, and improve them
into a greater neatness, in case a second edition should be
demanded. O may they tend, in some small degree, to awaken my
readers into a serious concern for their eternal state, and
lead their minds unto the Rock of ages, the Hope of all the
ends of the earth, Jesus Christ! May they, under the propitious
influence of grace, answer this desirable end; or else let them
share the fate of literary rubbish, and be swept away into
utter oblivion!

“Be pleased to make my most respectful and affectionate
compliments acceptable to Mrs. Thompson. I wish Miss Thompson
may be a living picture of that amiable and virtuous woman,
whose price is above rubies. If your trusty friend, Mr. B
(ennet) is with you, pray tell him I love him, because he loves
Mr. Thompson.

“Should you inquire after my state, you will find a description
of it, Judges viii. 4—‘Faint, yet pursuing.’ Cease not, dear
sir, to pray, that, the hands which hang down may be lifted
up, and the feeble knees strengthened, to walk in the way
everlasting.

“In your last, you inquired after a very holy woman, whose name
is Mary. I have asked Dr. Doddridge about her. He declined
giving me a particular account of her intercourse with
heaven, and only said, that, she was a very sincere and devout
soul, but somewhat addicted to chimerical and extravagant
imaginations. The Doctor desired me to transmit his cordial
good wishes and service to yourself and spouse.

“Let it not be long before dear Mr. Thompson, with a letter,
delights, animates, and comforts, his most obliged and
affectionate friend,

“JAMES HERVEY.”

The success of the “Meditations and Reflections” was such, as to encourage Hervey to attempt another work of the same description. Hence, the following letter, probably addressed either to his friend Dr. Doddridge or Dr. Stonehouse:—

“WESTON-FAVEL, _Nov. 1, 1746_.

“DEAR SIR,—This morning, I received your favour. The day
lowers, and threatens rain, which debars me from the pleasure
of paying you my thanks in person.

“Mr. Huygens[176] I hope to read very carefully; but, I
believe, it will be proper to take heed of adopting into my
plans any notions that are difficult and abstruse. I would have
everything so perspicuous, that, the dimmest understanding
may apprehend my meaning; so obvious, that, he who runs may
read. Let me lay before you a little sketch of my design, with
a request, that, you would alter the general order, and make
retrenchments, or additions of particular incidents, as you
shall think most expedient.

“A contemplative walk. The approach of evening, and gradual
extinction of light. The advantages of solitude. The stillness
of the universe. The coolness of the atmosphere. Darkness, and
its usefulness to mankind. Sleep, and its beneficial effects.
Dreams, and their extravagance. A glow-worm glimmering. An
owl shrieking. A nightingale singing. The very different
circumstances of mankind; some revelling and carousing;
some agonizing and dying; A knell sounding; The notion of
ghosts walking; The moon, with its various appearances, and
serviceableness to our globe;—the heavenly bodies—their
number, size, courses, distances,—display many of the glorious
attributes of their Creator; some of which are specified. They
teach nothing of redemption; this, the peculiar prerogative of
revelation—Christ, the day-star from on high, that points out,
and makes clear the way of salvation.

“These are some of the subjects which, I imagined, might be
admitted into the composition of a Night-piece. If others occur
to your mind more pleasing, or more striking, be pleased to
suggest them.

“I am glad to find, by the quotation from Mr. Locke, that
your esteem and veneration for the Scriptures are on the
increasing hand. May we be persuaded, even more and more, of
the incomparable excellency of those sacred volumes! This one
consideration, that they are the Book of God, is a higher
recommendation of them, than could be displayed in ten thousand
panegyric orations. For my part, I purpose to addict myself,
with more incessant assiduity, to this delightful and Divine
study. Away, my Homer! I have no more need of being entertained
by you, since Job and the prophets furnish me with images much
more magnificent, and lessons infinitely more important. Away,
my Horace! Nor shall I suffer any loss by your absence, while
the sweet singer of Israel tunes his lyre, and charms me with
the finest flights of fancy, and inspirits me with the noblest
strains of devotion. And even my prime favourite, my Virgil,
may withdraw; since, in Isaiah, I enjoy all his majesty of
sentiment, all his correctness of judgment, all his beautiful
propriety of diction, and⸺But I must have done. The messenger
waits; he can stay no longer, than barely to allow me leisure
to subscribe myself, dear sir, etc.,

“J. HERVEY.”

While Hervey was thus occupied in literary pursuits, he was neither unmindful of his flock, nor of the general claims of Christian charity. Among other public institutions in which he felt deeply interested, the county hospital of Northampton was not the least important In a letter, apparently to Dr. Stonehouse, he writes:—

“WESTON-FAVEL, _November 22, 1746_.

“DEAR SIR,—I heartily applaud the zeal you show for the
spiritual welfare of the patients. The infirmary would be
an inestimable blessing, if it might be productive of a
reformation in the persons whom it admits and discharges. As
distressed objects will, in all probability, resort to it from
all parts of the county, a change wrought in their hearts,
and a renewal begun in their lives, might be a happy means of
diffusing religion far and near. I hope the clergy, concerned
in the management, will concur in the prosecution of so
desirable an end. I wish some proper scheme was contrived for
this, in which I might bear some little part, without giving
umbrage to my brethren, or alarming their jealousy. I have
thought of offering to give the patients a kind of lecture or
exhortation once a week; but, sometimes doubtful whether such a
proposal would meet with acceptance, and sometimes checked by
the infirmities of my constitution, I have hitherto neglected
to mention the affair. However, I now venture to submit it
to your consideration. To this, or any other more advisable
method, I should very readily contribute the best of my
assistance.”

In 1747, Hervey joined himself to a society, whose object was that of reading together the Old Testament in English, and the New Testament in Greek. This assembly, which was not to “consist of more than ten or twelve individuals, lest an increased number should produce confusion or dissensions,” met on the first Tuesday morning in every month, and, oddly enough, in different inns, agreed upon, from time to time, by the majority. Each member was chairman of the meetings, in alphabetical succession, and read a chapter out of each of the two Testaments, pausing at the end of every verse for inquiries and reflections. Every one also was expected to give an account of some religious book, which had been read by him since the last time of meeting; all dined together, at the expense of eighteen-pence a head; and each one subscribed half a crown a month for charitable uses. The meetings, including an hour for dinner, lasted seven hours in the summer season, and six in winter. Hervey drew up two beautiful forms of prayer, to be used by the respective members, before and after they came together. The society was unique, but useful. None but gentlemen of social position and of good education were qualified for admission; and it was certainly to the honour of the neighbourhood in which Hervey lived, that, in that age of fox-hunting, carousing, and roistering, such an assembly was formed.

Meanwhile, Hervey was busily occupied in completing his “Contemplations on the Night”; and also in publishing a second edition of the volume which he had issued in 1746. References to these and other matters will be found in the following extracts from his letters.

“WESTON-FAVEL, _February, 1747_.

“DEAR SIR,—I have heard nothing from my printer during all this
interval. What can be the reason of his long silence and great
negligence I cannot imagine. But, this week, it occurred to my
mind, that, if he delays the second edition at this rate, I may
possibly be able to prepare the third letter[177] to accompany
it. Accordingly, I have postponed other business, and applied
myself wholly to this work. I have transcribed some part of the
intended piece, and sent it for your perusal. Pray be so good
as to examine it narrowly, and favour me with your remarks and
improvements, on a separate paper. There are, I fear, besides
more material faults, several mistakes in the copy, owing to
my want of leisure to review it. I suppose the remainder of my
design, when completed, will consist of about the same number
of pages.

“If I live till Monday, I propose to visit my patient at the
infirmary; and, if company happens to be agreeable, will take
the pleasure of spending an hour with a certain valuable and
very much esteemed friend at Northampton. If you are not able
to guess the person I mean, you shall soon be informed by,

Dear sir, yours, etc.,

“J. HERVEY.”

“WESTON-FAVEL, _April 12, 1747_.

“DEAR SIR,—I have folded down a corner of the leaf at the place
where your perusal left off. There is a note or two subjoined
to the preceding pages, which I wish you would please to
examine. My humble service to Dr. ⸺. I desire He will write his
remarks and corrections on a separate paper. What think you of
the following lines for a motto?—

“‘Night opes the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe,
Which gives these venerable scenes full weight,
And deep impression on th’ intender’d heart.’[178]

“Your plan for forming a Christian society,[179] and regulating
our interviews, I greatly approve. It seems to me to be
complete. I heartily wish to have it carried into execution,
and hope it will be productive of considerable comfort and
advantage to the members; and not to them only, but, by
rendering them more useful in their respective stations, to
many others.

“I hope you have perused the remainder of the manuscript: and
cannot but wish you would give the whole a second reading. The
unknown importance of what we print, inclines me to urge this
request. Who can tell how long it may continue, and into what
hands it may come? I almost tremble at such a thought, lest I
should write unadvisedly with my pen; and injure, instead of
serve, the best of causes.

“I shall soon create you a second task, by transmitting for
your correction, twenty folio pages of the Remarks on the
Stars, and Serious Improvements,

“Yours, etc.,

“J. HERVEY.”

“_June 2, 1747._

“REV. AND DEAR SIR,—My father is wonderfully recovered. Had
he lived in the times of superstition, for ought I know, his
uncommon disorder might have been ascribed to witchcraft, and
his speedy recovery passed current for a miracle. We thought
him to be on the very brink of death; but now he lives, and
regains his strength daily. Last Sunday, he read prayers in his
church; and intends next Sunday to fill the pulpit.

“I am just now going to our visitation, held at Northampton.
I shall appear as a stranger in our Jerusalem! knowing few,
and known by fewer. Methinks, there is something august and
venerable in a meeting of the clergy; especially if one looks
upon them as so many agents for the invisible God, and envoys
from the court of heaven. I hope to be put in mind of that
awful day, when the Lord Jesus Christ, that great Shepherd of
the sheep, and Bishop of souls, will make His entrance in the
clouds of heaven.” Etc.

“J. HERVEY.”

From the above, it is evident, that, though Hervey had now spent several years at Weston-Favel, his acquaintance with the clergy of the diocese was extremely limited. Why was this? Was it because he lived, to a great extent, the life of a literary recluse? Or was it because he had been a Methodist? Or was it because of his known friendship with Dr. Doddridge, the great and good Dissenter of Northampton? Whatever the reason, the fact existed; and, in this respect, he was in the same position as his old friends Wesley, Whitefield, and Ingham.

The next extract is valuable, and ought to be seriously considered by all who are chargeable with the same criminal inadvertencies. It is also a beautiful instance of Hervey’s extreme delicacy in administering reproof.

“WESTON-FAVEL, _June 27, 1747_.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—Was it you, dear sir, or I, that, when
a certain passage in Scripture happened to be mentioned,
treated it, not indeed with contemptuous disdain, but, with
too ludicrous an air? descanted on it, in a sportive and
frolicsome manner, in order to create a little pleasantry? If
I was the person that indulged this improper levity, I beseech
you to rebuke me, and severely too. Though my design might be
innocent, my conduct was apparently wrong. That infinitely
precious and important book, should be always held in the
highest veneration. Whatever the Divine Spirit vouchsafes
to dictate, should be thought and spoke of by mortals, with
gratitude, dutifulness, and awe. It is the character of a
religious man, that, he trembles at God’s Word; and it is said
of the great Jehovah, that, He has magnified His name and His
Word above all things.

“Who was it, dear sir, that lent to our valuable friend, that
vile book, ‘Le Sopha,’ and yet wrote by Crebillon,[180] with an
enchanting spirit of elegance, which must render the mischief
palatable, and the bane even delicious? I wonder, that, your
kind and benevolent heart could recommend arsenic for a
regale. It puts me in mind of the empoisoned shirt presented
to Hercules. I am sure, you did not think on it, or else you
would no more have transmitted such a pestilent treatise to the
perusal of a friend, than you would transmit to him a packet
of goods from a country depopulated by the plague. If that
polluting French book still remains in your study, let me beg
of you to make it perform quarantine in the flames.

“Dear sir, bestow a thought on these things. If the
remonstrances are wrong, I willingly retract them; if right,
you will not pronounce me impertinent. Love and friendship
dictate what I write; and the only end I have in view, is the
holiness, the usefulness, the happiness, the final salvation of
my much esteemed friend.”

In July, 1747, Hervey completed his “Contemplations on the Night,” which he dedicated to the youthful son of his deceased friend, Mr. Orchard, of Stoke Abbey. He was also diligently occupied in the preparation of his “Contemplations on the Starry Heavens,” and his “Winter Piece”; hence the following, from a letter by Dr. Doddridge, dated,

“_July 6, 1747_.

“I have just been writing to my good friend, Mr. Hervey; whose
manuscript on The Stars, I have reviewed with pleasure. I hope
it will be means of raising the hearts of many _above_ the
stars; and of fixing them on Him, who is, so much more than
anything material, ‘The bright and morning Star.’ I see, in
Mr. Hervey, an example of diligence, humility, candour, and
universal goodness, which I am sure ought to keep _me_ humble,
and, I hope, in some measure, does so.”[181]

The next, which appears to have been sent to some friend in the neighbourhood of Stoke Abbey, refers to the same subject; and also shows, that the state of Hervey’s health was becoming serious:—

“WESTON-FAVEL, _August 8, 1747_.

“DEAREST MR. ⸺,—”I ought to take shame to myself, for suffering
so kind a letter, received from so valuable a friend, to remain
so long unanswered. Upon no other consideration than that of my
enfeebled and languishing constitution, can I excuse myself,
or hope for your pardon. My health is continually upon the
decline, and the springs of life are all relaxing. Medicine
is baffled, and my physician, Dr. Stonehouse, who is a dear
friend to his patient, and a lover of the Lord Jesus, pities,
but cannot succour me. This blessing, however, together with a
multitude of others, the Divine goodness vouchsafes, to gild
the gloom of decaying nature, that, I am racked with no pain,
and enjoy the free, undisturbed exercise of my understanding.

“I am much obliged to you for carrying my message to Stoke
Abbey, with so much speed, and conveying to me, with equal
despatch, a satisfactory answer. When you visit the worthy
family again, be pleased to inform Mr. Orchard, that the
piece is sent to the press, and, after some corrections made
in the dedication, addressed to my godson.[182] It is my
humble request to him, and my earnest prayer to God, that,
he may regard it, not merely as a complimentary form, but
as the serious and pathetic advice of his father’s intimate
acquaintance, and his soul’s sincere friend; who, in all
probability, will be cut off from every other opportunity of
fulfilling his sacred engagements, and admonishing him of
whatever a Christian ought to know and believe to his soul’s
health.

“I forget whether I told you, that, the last work will be
divided into two parts; will be full as large as the first two
letters; and, therefore, the whole will be disposed into two
small pocket volumes, on a very neat paper, with an elegant
type, in duodecimo. But a convenient number of the new essays
will be printed in the octavo size and character, for the
satisfaction of those who purchased the former edition, and
may possibly be willing to complete their book. It was a
considerable time before I could think of a title for the last
pieces, that suited their nature, and expressed their design.
At length, I have determined to style them, ‘Contemplations on
the Night,’ and ‘Contemplations on the Starry Heavens.’

“Now I apprehend myself to be so near the close of life, with
eternity full in my view, perhaps, my dear friend would be glad
to know my sentiments of things in this awful situation.

“I think, then, dear sir, that, we are extremely mistaken,
and sustain a mighty loss in our most important interests,
by reading so much, and praying so little. I think also, we
fail in our duty, and thwart our comfort, by studying God’s
Holy Word no more. I have, for my part, been too fond of
reading everything elegant and valuable, that has been penned
in our own language; and been particularly charmed with the
historians, orators, and poets of antiquity. But were I to
renew my studies, I would take my leave of these accomplished
trifles. I would resign the delights of modern wit, amusement,
and eloquence, and devote my attention to the Scriptures of
truth. I would adopt the Apostles’ resolution, and give myself
to prayer and to the Word.

“With regard to my public ministry, my chief aim should
be, to beget in my people’s minds a deep sense of their
depraved, guilty, undone, condition; and a clear believing
conviction of the all-sufficiency of Christ, by His blood, His
righteousness, His intercession, and His Spirit, to save them
to the uttermost. I would always observe, to labour for them
in my closet, as well as in the pulpit; and wrestle in secret
supplication for their spiritual and eternal welfare. For,
unless God take this work into His own hand, what mortal is
sufficient for these things?

“My hope, my whole hope, with regard to my future and immortal
state, is in the Lord Redeemer. Jesus is all my trust His
merits are my staff, when I pass through the valley of the
shadow of death. His merits are my anchor, when I launch into
the boundless ocean of eternity.

“Though the days are come upon me, in which I have reason to
say of worldly things, I have no pleasure in them; yet, I find
a secret satisfaction in this consideration, that, to you and
to others, I may be permitted, even when dead, to speak in my
little treatises. May they, when the author is gone hence,
testify, with some small degree of efficacy, concerning Jesus!
May they fan the flame of love to His person, and strengthen
the principle of faith in His merits! Once more, dear sir,
adieu!

“J. HERVEY.”

Hervey was afflicted in person; he was also afflicted in the sufferings of his friends. Hence the following, written in the month of December, 1747.

“Your last found me on the recovering hand, getting strength
and spirits, though by slow degrees. Soon after I received
your favour, a messenger came from London, bringing us the
alarming news, that my youngest brother was extremely ill.
My father’s bowels yearned, and his heart bled; but the
infirmities of age, and an unwieldy constitution, hindered
him from taking the journey. Upon me, therefore, the office
fell. Feeble and languid as I was, there was no rejecting
such a call. Accordingly, I took coach, and, in two days,
arrived safe in London, where I found my poor brother (the
packer) seized with a most violent fever. He was attended by
two eminent physicians; but they proved vain helpers. For a
considerable time, his stout constitution struggled with the
disease; but, at last, was forced to yield. After attending
his sick-bed for several days, I had the melancholy task of
closing his dear eyes, and resigning him up to death. Oh, the
uncertainty of mortal things! Who could have thought that I
should survive my brother? I, sickly and enervated; he, always
lively and vigorous. In flourishing circumstances, and blessed
with prosperity in his business; but now removed to the dark,
inactive, silent tomb! Lately married to a beautiful and
blooming bride, but now a companion for creeping things!

“Scarce was I returned to Weston, but another awful Providence
fetched me from home. My very worthy physician, Dr. Stonehouse,
who lives and practises in Northampton, had the misfortune to
lose an amiable and excellent wife. She also was snatched away
in the morning of life (aged twenty-five), and dead before I
so much as heard of her being disordered. At this valuable
friend’s house, I was desired to abide some time, in order
to assist in writing letters for him, and dispatching his
necessary affairs; in comforting him concerning the deceased,
and in endeavouring to improve the awakening visitation to our
mutual good.[183]

“You will surely say, when you read this account, that, I have
been in deaths oft: once upon the borders of it myself, and
more than once a spectator of its victory over others.

“The ‘Contemplations,’ you are pleased to inquire after, are,
after long delays, or a very slow procedure of the press,
launched into the world. What may be their fate, I dare not
conjecture.

“J. HERVEY.”

Two more letters, belonging to the year 1747, must be added.

The venerable Dr. Watts, in 1746, had published his speculative and dangerous book, entitled, “The Glory of Christ as God-Man Displayed,” and had presented Hervey with a copy. He was now in the last year of his life, and died November 25, 1748. Hervey wrote to him as follows:—

“WESTON-FAVEL, _December 10, 1747_.

“REV. AND DEAR SIR,—Pardon me if I take leave to interrupt your
important studies for the good of mankind, or suspend for one
moment your delightful communion with the blessed God. I cannot
excuse myself without expressing my gratitude for the present,
by your order, lately transmitted from your bookseller, which I
shall always value, not only for its instructive contents, but,
in a very peculiar manner, for the sake of the author and giver.

“To tell you, worthy doctor, that your works have long been
my delight and study, the favourite pattern by which I would
form my conduct and model my style, would be only to echo back,
in the faintest accents, what sounds in the general voice of
the nation. Among other of your edifying compositions, I have
reason to thank you for your ‘Sacred Songs,’ which I have
introduced into the service of my church; so that, in the
solemnities of the Sabbath and in a lecture on the week-day,
your muse lights up the incense of our praise, and furnishes
our devotions with harmony.