Chapter L: Tyerman (13)

“Our excellent friend, Dr. Doddridge, informs me of the infirm
condition of your health; for which reason, I humbly beseech
the Father of spirits, and the God of our life, to renew your
strength as the eagle’s, and to recruit a lamp that has shone
with distinguished lustre in His sanctuary: or, if this may not
consist with the counsels of unerring wisdom, to make all your
bed in your languishing, softly to untie the cords of animal
existence, and enable your dislodging soul to pass triumphantly
through the valley of death, leaning on your beloved Jesus,
and rejoicing in the greatness of His salvation.

“You have a multitude of names to bear on your breast, and
mention with your lips, when you approach the throne of grace
in the beneficent exercise of intercession; but none, I am
sure, has more need of such an interest in your supplications,
none can more highly esteem it, or more earnestly desire it,
than, dear sir, your obliged and affectionate humble servant,

“JAMES HERVEY.”[184]

It is a curious fact, that, Hervey possessed and cherished the friendship of the two greatest Dissenters of the age, Doctor Doddridge and Dr. Watts; and, that, the hymns of the latter, even in his lifetime, were sung in the service of an established church.

For eight years, Wesley had been an itinerant preacher, and had encountered an unparalleled amount of violent opposition. There had been a temporary estrangement between him and Whitefield, on Calvinistic doctrines; but the two were now as warmly attached to each other as ever. Methodism, meanwhile, had been established in all directions; and, in this very year, 1747, had been introduced into Ireland. Brutal were the persecutions from which the poor Methodists still had to suffer; but their truth was mighty and triumphant. Hervey had taken no part in the great movement of the Wesleys and Whitefield; but he had not opposed it. Indeed, it had his sympathy and prayers. His old friends occupied one sphere of Christian usefulness; he, according to his ability, occupied another. Hence the following, addressed to Wesley:—

“WESTON, NEAR NORTHAMPTON, _December 30, 1747_.

“DEAR SIR,—With pleasure I received, and with gratitude
acknowledge, the favour of your two letters. That which bears
the date of November 21, I should have answered long ago, had I
not been retarded by the following reason:

“I was desirous to give a proof of my love for your person and
of my reverence for your conduct, somewhat more substantial
than the bare profession of my pen. My bookseller is, this
week, to pay a sum of money for a second impression of my
two little pieces of devotional meditation, which I lately
ventured to publish, and which God has vouchsafed to honour
with acceptance. This is to be received by my brother, in
Miles’s Lane, at whose house, if you please to call, he will,
in my name, present you with five guineas, which I beg of you
to accept, as a token of that affectionate and grateful esteem
which I bear to my ever-valued friend; and distribute among the
indigent or distressed members of that Divine Benefactor, who
died for us both.[185]

“Assure yourself, dear sir, that I can never forget that
tender-hearted and generous Fellow of Lincoln, who condescended
to take such compassionate notice of a poor undergraduate, whom
almost everybody condemned, and for whose soul no man cared.

“If you ask, Why I have withdrawn into a corner, and lain hid
in obscurity, while God seems to be shaking the heavens and the
earth, and to be doing His work, His great and glorious work,
of bringing sinners to Christ, as the doves to their windows? I
will tell you freely. It is because of an infirm constitution,
a languid flow of spirits, and an enervated state of body,
which render even that small share of business, which lies
within my narrow sphere, too often burdensome to me, and but
very poorly performed by me.

“As for points of doubtful disputation,—those especially which
relate to _particular_ or _universal_ redemption,—I profess
myself attached neither to the one nor the other. I neither
think of them myself, nor preach of them to others. If they
happen to be started in conversation, I always endeavour to
divert the discourse to some more edifying topic. I have often
observed them to breed animosity and division, but never knew
them to be productive of love and unanimity. I have further
remarked, that, in forming their sentiments on these doctrines,
persons may be diametrically opposite, and yet be high in the
favour of God, and eminently owned by Him in their ministry.
Therefore, I rest satisfied in this general and indisputable
truth, that, the Judge of all the earth will assuredly do
right; and whosoever cometh to Him, under the gracious
character of a Saviour, will in no wise be cast out.

“I embrace—readily embrace—your offer. Let me ever be reckoned
in the number of your friends, and often remembered in the
earnestness of your prayers. Though it is your distinguished
province, to lift your voice on high, and make the world
resound with the Redeemer’s name; though my employ is to catch
the pleasing accents, and echo, or rather whisper, them among a
little circle of acquaintance, yet, I hope, we may be united in
the same cordial affection here, and united in the same kingdom
of our common Master hereafter.

“Your correspondence will be greatly esteemed, and, I hope,
will prove a blessing to, dear sir, your very unworthy, but
truly affectionate brother and servant,

“J. HERVEY.”[186]

Affliction was still the heritage of Hervey; but, in the midst of all, his full heart overflowed with pure benevolence, and his pen was not unemployed. Having completed his “Contemplations,” he now devoted what health he had to the revision and enlargement of his “Descant on Creation.” The following are extracts from letters written in the months of March and April, 1748.

“If you have not so much as you wish to relieve the necessities
of the poor, distribute from my stock. I am cloistered up
in my chamber, and unacquainted with the distresses of my
brethren. Lend me, therefore, your eyes to discover proper
objects, and your hand to deal about my little fund for
charity. Do not forbid me to send a guinea in my next for this
purpose. Do not deny me the pleasure of becoming, through your
means, an instrument of some little comfort to my afflicted
fellow-creatures.

“Herewith comes the ‘Descant’ enlarged. I hope you will be able
to read it, and not a little to improve it. Can you engage Dr.
⸺ to run it over? I must write it over again, so fear not to
erase and blot.

“A letter from my father is enough to cast contempt on created
things. It informs me, that, my poor sister is reduced very
low, so low that my father cannot hear her speak. He seems to
look upon her life to be in very great danger. May the Father
of compassion restore her health, that she may live to the
honour of her dying Master, and be a comfort to her afflicted
parents!”

For months after this, Hervey’s health was very feeble, but his soul as large as ever; hence the following:—

WESTON-FAVEL, _Aug. 18, 1748_.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—I received your letter, full of
tenderness, and full of piety, last night. The very first
thing I apply myself to this morning, is to acknowledge your
favour, and confess my own negligence. But your affectionate
heart will pity rather than blame me, when I inform you, that,
a relapse into the disorder, of which I was never thoroughly
cured, has brought me very low, insomuch that I am unable
either to discharge the duties of life, or to answer the
demands of friendship. I have not been capable of preaching for
several Sundays. Pyrmont water, ass’s milk, and such kind of
restoratives I try, but try in vain.

“You are not ignorant of my sentiment with regard to our
Dissenting brethren. Are we not all devoted to the same supreme
Lord? Do we not all rely on the merits of the same glorious
Redeemer? By professing the same faith, the same doctrine
which is according to godliness, we are incorporated into the
same mystical body. And how strange, how unnatural it would
be, if the head should be averse to the breast, or the hands
inveterately prejudiced against the feet, only because the one
is habited somewhat differently from the other? Though I am
steady in my attachment to the Established Church, I would have
a right hand of fellowship, and a heart of love, ever ready,
ever open for all the upright, evangelical Dissenters.”

To a great extent, Hervey was now an invalid. Sometimes he catechised the children on the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments; but confesses his want of aptitude for this, and that he rarely did it so as to satisfy himself. His public work, however, was extremely limited. By preaching, he could do but little; but, by his treatises, he was reaching the hearts and consciences of thousands who never heard his voice. In 1749, a sixth edition of his “Meditations and Contemplations,” in two volumes,[187] was published; and Whitefield wrote as follows:—[188]

“July 10, 1749. Your sentiments concerning Mr. Hervey’s book
are very just. It has gone through six editions. The author
of it is my old friend, a most heavenly-minded creature, one
of the first of the Methodists, who is contented with a small
cure, and gives all that he has to the poor. He is very weak,
and daily waits for his dissolution. We correspond with, though
we cannot see, one another. We shall, ere long, meet in heaven.”

In another letter, to Hervey himself, Whitefield says:—

“Blessed be God, for causing you to write so as to suit the
taste of the polite world! O that they may be won over to
admire Him, who is indeed altogether lovely! O when shall we
get within the veil! Thanks be to God, it cannot be long.
We are both sickly. Lord, give us patience to wait till our
blessed change come!”

On November 8, 1749, Whitefield wrote:—

“Your present circumstances almost distress me. I think it
requires more grace heartily to say, ‘Father, Thy will be
done,’ in such a situation, than to die a martyr forty times.
But, my dear friend, though your body is weak and confined at
home, your pen hath been active, and your works walk abroad.
I hear of them from all quarters. God hath blessed, and will
bless them. Let that comfort you, and, if health any way
permits, pray write again. Fear not, my dear, dear man; let
faith and patience hold out a little longer, and then the
struggle shall be over. Yet a little while, and you shall
join with that sweet singer, Dr. Watts, who, whilst on earth,
dragged a crazy load along, as well as you, for many years. I
am now at Ashby, with good Lady Huntingdon. Her ladyship has a
great regard for you, and begs you would come and stay a week
at her house. She will take great care of you.”

Hervey was ill, and the warm-hearted Whitefield never loved him so much as now. Hitherto, Lady Huntingdon had not corresponded with Hervey, though she had long entertained a great regard for him. One or two letters had passed between them, but no regular correspondence took place till the beginning of the year 1750. Again and again, had Whitefield conveyed her ladyship’s request that he would write to her; and, at length, on February 2, 1750, Hervey yielded, and commenced a correspondence, which was continued, without interruption, until his death. Whitefield was delighted, and wrote:—“I am glad you have opened a correspondence with our elect lady. Keep it open, I entreat you, my dear friend.”

An extract from another letter, by Whitefield, will be welcome:—

“PLYMOUTH, _Feb. 25, 1750_.

“REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,—Your letters always fill me with
sympathy. Your last I have just been reading, and in reading
breathed out the ejaculation, ‘Lord, when will the days of his
mourning be ended?’ Surely, you are not always thus to stick
fast in the mire and clay. Look up then, my dear Mr. Hervey;
you shall find grace to help in time of need.

“‘Leave to His sovereign sway,
To choose and to command;
So shalt thou, wondering, own His way,
How wise, how strong His hand.
Far, far above thy thought
His counsel shall appear,
When fully He the work hath wrought,
That caused Thy needless fear.’

“This is the advice I give you, I sent your hymn to good Lady
Huntingdon, who has been ill, but is now, I hope, recovered.
Pray write to me often. Sorrows grow less, joys grow greater,
by being communicated. Load me as much as you will with all
your grievances, and I will lay them before Him, who came to
bear our sicknesses and heal our infirmities.”

Two months later Whitefield wrote again:—

“PORTSMOUTH, _April 28, 1750_.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND AND BROTHER,—Your letter should have had
an immediate answer, if the least leisure had offered when in
town. But there I am continually hurried, and had scarce time
to eat bread. However, our Lord gave me meat which the world
knows not of, and enabled me to preach three or four times a
day to great multitudes, and, I trust, with great blessings.

“Fear not your weak body. We are immortal till our work is
done. Christ’s labourers must live by miracle; if not, I must
not live at all; for God only knows what I daily endure. My
continual vomitings almost kill me, and yet the pulpit is my
cure. I speak this to encourage you. Persons whose writings
are to be blessings must have some thorns in the flesh. Your
disorders, like mine, I believe, are, as yet, only to humble,
not to kill us. Though I long to go to heaven, yet I am apt to
think we are not to die presently, but live and declare the
works of the Lord—you by your pen; I by my tongue. Courage, my
dear, very dear Mr. Hervey; courage! When we are weak, then are
we strong.

“But to your letter. How shall we contrive to meet? I purpose
being at Olney next Sunday seven-night, and in a day or two
after at Northampton. I wish I could have a line from you. Your
(Meditations) are now printing at Philadelphia. Why do you not
sit for your picture? The Lord be with you. I love you most
tenderly. I thank you ten thousand times for all favours, and
am, very dear friend, yours most affectionately, and eternally,
in our Lord Jesus,

“G. WHITEFIELD.”

The programme was carried out; and the old friends met. Whitefield writes:—

“ASHLEY, _May 11, 1750_.

“I preached last Lord’s-day at Olney.[189] We had two sweet
seasons. A great multitude attended. On the Monday, about six
miles from Northampton, I had a private interview with Dr.
Stonehouse, Dr. Doddridge, Messrs. Hervey and Hartley. On the
Tuesday, I preached, in the morning, to Dr. Doddridge’s family,
and, in the afternoon, to about two thousand in the field.
Dr. Stonehouse, Mr. Hervey, etc., attended me, and walked
with me along the street; so that, I hope, the physician will
now turn his back upon the world. I expounded at his house in
the evening, and am, hereafter, to come to it as my own. On
Tuesday, I preached twice at Kettering to several thousands.
On Wednesday, I came hither, and found good Lady Huntingdon,
though very weak, yet, better than I expected.”

Concerning this visit by the great evangelist, Hervey wrote:—

“WESTON, _May 12, 1750_.

“This week, we had another visit by that indefatigable preacher
of the everlasting gospel, Mr. Whitefield. He delivered his
message under the canopy of the skies, and in the midst of a
numerous and attentive audience. Dr. Doddridge, Dr. Stonehouse,
another doctor of physic, Mr. Hartley, a worthy clergyman, and
myself, were on his right hand, and on his left. His text was,
‘Ye are the temples of the living God.’ He showed himself a
workman that need not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of
truth. He dealt out to saints and sinners their portion in due
season. All the hearers hung on his lips, and many were visibly
impressed by the power of his doctrine. I hope, I am the only
one who suffered by attending. I was obliged, as soon as the
sacred service was over, to lie upon the bed for a little
refreshment, and took such a cold as I have not yet got rid of.

“I dined, supped, and spent the evening with Mr. Whitefield,
at Northampton, in company with Dr. Doddridge, and two pious,
ingenious clergymen of the Church of England. And, surely, I
never spent a more delightful evening, or saw one who seemed to
make nearer approaches to the felicity of heaven. A gentleman
of great worth and rank in the town invited us to his house,
and gave us an elegant treat; but how mean was his provision,
how coarse his delicacies, compared with the fruit of my
friend’s lips! They dropped as the honey-comb, and were a well
of life. Surely, people do not know that amiable and exemplary
man; or else, I cannot but think, instead of depreciating,
they would applaud and love him. For my part, I never beheld
so fair a copy of our Lord,—such a living image of the
Saviour,—such exalted delight in God,—such enlarged benevolence
to man,—such a steady faith in the Divine promises,—and such
a fervent zeal for the Divine glory; and all this without the
least moroseness of humour, or extravagances of behaviour;
sweetened with the most engaging cheerfulness of temper,
and regulated by all the sobriety of reason, and wisdom of
Scripture; insomuch, that I cannot forbear applying the wise
man’s encomium of an illustrious woman to this eminent minister
of Christ, ‘Many sons have done virtuously, but thou excellest
them all.’”

A few weeks after this, Hervey was prevailed on, by the repeated importunity of Whitefield and Lady Huntingdon, to visit London, for the benefit of his enfeebled health.[190] He arrived in June, 1750, and remained until the death of his father, in May, 1752. One of the winters was spent in the house of Whitefield; and, for some time, he lodged with his brother William, in Miles Lane. By means of Lady Huntingdon, he became acquainted with Lady Gertrude Hotham, Lady Chesterfield, the Countess Delitz, Lady Fanny Shirley, and many other distinguished and pious persons. Here he met with Charles Wesley; was visited by Dr. Gill, Mr. Cudworth, and John Cennick; and, for the first time, heard Romaine. Here, also, he enlarged and corrected his ‘Meditations,’ composed his ‘Remarks on Bolingbroke’s Letters,’ and wrote part of his ‘Theron and Aspasio.’ He could rarely attempt to preach; but his time was fully occupied. How his two years in London were employed will be best exhibited by extracts from his voluminous correspondence.

At the time of Hervey’s arrival in the metropolis, Whitefield was in the north of England, and the two friends did not again see each other till about the beginning of September.

“_September 11, 1750._

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—Thanks for your subscription; I have procured
more of another friend. I shall soon be a poor man, here are so
many necessitous objects. And who can bear to be in affluence,
while so many fellow-creatures are in deplorable want?

“This night, dear Mr. Whitefield is with us, returned from his
expedition, full of life, and rich with spoils,—spoils won from
the kingdom of darkness, and consecrated to the Captain of our
salvation.

“I have been prevailed upon to sit for my picture. If ever
portrait was the shadow of a shadow, mine is such. Oh, that I
may be renewed after the image of the blessed Jesus! When I
awake up after His likeness, I shall be satisfied with it.”

Three days after this, Hervey, Whitefield, and Charles Wesley,—a happy trio,—met at Whitefield’s house. C. Wesley writes:—“1750. September 14. I met James Hervey at the Tabernacle, and in the fellowship of the spirit of love;”[191] and, on the same day, Whitefield, as follows:—

“At my return to town, I was received, though utterly unworthy,
with great joy; and our Lord has manifested forth His glory in
the great congregation. I have preached in Mr. Wesley’s chapel
several times; and I trust, a young lady of high rank was truly
awakened about a fortnight ago, and is since gone triumphantly
to heaven. Mr. Charles Wesley breakfasted and prayed with
me this morning, and Mr. Hervey was so kind as to come up
to be with me in my house. He is a dear man, and, I trust,
will yet be spared to write much for the Redeemer’s glory. I
have prevailed on him to sit for his picture, and it will be
published in a short time.”[192]

The young lady referred to in this extract, was the daughter of Lady Gertrude Hotham. Hervey had frequently visited her in her last sickness, and, on one occasion, had administered to her the Lord’s supper. Hence the following to the Countess of Huntingdon:—

“I had the pleasure of perusing your ladyship’s letter to
Mr. Whitefield, and return my grateful acknowledgments for
your condescension in inquiring after me. My kind patroness,
Lady Chesterfield, and many honourable persons, whose names,
I trust, are written in the book of life, are very desirous
for your ladyship’s return to the great city. I have lately
expounded, and administered the ordinance, at good Lady
Gertrude Hotham’s. Her daughter is ripening fast for glory.
I had but little conversation with her, for she is too weak
to endure much fatigue. When speaking of God’s stupendous
love, in giving His only Son for our salvation, and of our
interest in the all-sufficient propitiation of His death, I
quoted these portions of Scripture.—‘He came into the world
to save sinners;’ ‘He poured out His soul for transgressors.’
‘Yes,’ said Miss Hotham, who had been listening with singular
attention; ‘He died, the just for the unjust; He suffered death
upon the cross, that we might reign with Him in glory.’ On
a subsequent visit, I found her much altered for the worse,
as respected her bodily health. Mr. Whitefield had been to
see her the preceding day, and has since gone to erect the
joyful standard at Portsmouth. Blessed be God, she enjoyed
much peace and tranquillity of mind, and a firm persuasion,
that God was her reconciled Father, and the blessed Redeemer
her all-sufficient portion. I expect to hear every day of her
abundant entrance into the joy of her Lord. Good Lady Gertrude,
and all her noble relatives and friends, are wonderfully
supported in this trying affair.”

Hervey was already employed in writing another book. He was slowly dying, but to be idle was impossible. Hence, the following:—

“_December 20, 1750._

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—Your letter found me, after a
considerable delay in its passage, where do you think? Where I
never expected to go any more,—found me at London! Prevailed
on by the repeated importunity of my friends, I came by easy
stages to town, in order to try whether change of air may
be of any service to my decayed constitution: for my worthy
physician, Dr. Stonehouse, has declared that nothing which he
can prescribe, is likely to administer any relief.

“You inquire about my new work, intended for the press. It is
a great uncertainty whether my languid spirits and enfeebled
constitution will permit me to execute my design. It is a
pleasure, however, to hear that I am sometimes admitted to
converse with you by my book.”

The sale of the works which Hervey had already published was extraordinary. The ensuing letter to his father is evidence of this, and also unfolds a feature of Hervey’s domestic character not heretofore noticed.

“LONDON, _January 23, 1751_.

“HONOURED SIR—Mr. Rivington has advertised the next edition of
my books, and has fixed upon the 31st for publication. Then
there will be five thousand volumes ready for sale. Oh may
they be five thousand trumpets to proclaim far and near the
glories of Him, who died for our sins, and rose again for our
justification!

“If you inquire about my picture, Mr. Willis will be so kind as
to inform you. I am quite tired of sitting to the painters.

“If mother and you think Mr. Thayer would accept a couple of
gallons of rum, brandy, or shrub, I would very gladly make him
a present; and, when my mother’s stock of shrub is out, she may
command a fresh supply from your and her dutiful son,

“JAMES HERVEY.”

When Hervey first came to London, he had no intention of staying the length of time he did. On September 11, 1750, in a letter to his father, he wrote:—

“I have entertained thoughts of returning home very soon;
but, if you choose that I should stay and make trial a little
longer, I should be glad to have my MSS. here. Some of them,
I think, lie on the chair at the right hand of my desk. There
are others, but I forget where they are laid. If my sister
can find any, containing dialogues or letters between Theron,
and Aspasio, I desire she will pack them up, and send them
carefully by coach.”

During the whole of the year 1751, Hervey continued in the same debilitated state. It was now, that, he began his long series of letters to Lady Frances Shirley, one hundred and eighteen of which were subsequently published by her ladyship’s executors. Early in the year, he tells his noble correspondent, that, he had put on his “coat but once during all the winter,” and, even then, he “returned home with a cold, and was obliged to take to his bed.” There is something painfully affecting in extracts like the following:—

“Should I attempt to speak roundly to Mr. ⸺, my cheeks, pale as
they are, would be encrimsoned. Instead of working conviction
in a brother, I should suffer disorder in myself. So tender are
my spirits! As, I am sure, your ladyship must perceive, by a
certain confusedness and precipitancy in my behaviour; quite
contrary to that ease and serenity which every one must observe
in your ladyship. I know not how it is, but I cannot, either
by the exercise of my reason, or even by an advertence to God,
rectify this weakness. I trouble you with this complaint, only
with a view of demonstrating that nothing considerable can be
expected from a person, to whom ‘the grasshopper is a burden.’”

Again,—“_April 14, 1751_. My health is so very precarious, and
my constitution so enervated, that, I scarce ever am able,
and am always unfit, to wait upon your ladyship. I have often
found pleasure in visiting the poor tenants of the meanest
hut, where I had an opportunity of talking on heavenly things.
How much more should I be delighted, in an admission to your
ladyship’s company, where I should hear the same favourite
topics discoursed on, with all the refinements of politeness
and superior sense! But extreme weakness, and great languor,
disqualify me for the enjoyment of this satisfaction.”

Again,—“My poor heart, that is naturally fond of activity, and
would fain exert itself for the blessed Redeemer’s glory,—that
is peculiarly charmed with the works of creation, and knows no
higher entertainment than a contemplative rural excursion,—is
sometimes apt to repine at being cut off from its favourite
gratifications. But I desire to check such unsubmissive
emotions; and rest satisfied, that, whatever the all-gracious
God ordains, is incomparably better than I could choose for
myself. Let the voice of murmuring, therefore, be entirely
suppressed. Let the praises of God be upon my tongue, and let
all that is within me bless His holy name.”

Again,—“_September 23, 1751_. Though my hand is able to hold a
pen, my feet are not able to carry me across the room, without
some borrowed support. I have been extremely ill: hovering upon
the very brink of eternity. The doctor was twice sent for, by a
special messenger, from an apprehension, that, my dissolution
was approaching. You will probably be desirous to know how my
mind was affected, amidst such circumstances of peril and pain.
I humbly bless the Divine goodness, I was under no terrifying
fears with regard to death. It was desirable, rather than
dreadful; the thing I longed for, rather than deprecated. You
are pleased to ask, What I am going to publish? I was writing a
little Treatise[193] upon some of the most important doctrines
of Christianity: to be disposed partly into dialogues, partly
into letters; and rendered entertaining by several descriptive
pictures in nature and its ever-pleasing scenes. I have
sketched out the greatest part, in a rough un-connected manner;
but a considerable time will be requisite, to dispose it
properly, and polish it for the nice taste of the present age.
This time, whether it will please the Sovereign Disposer of
all things to allow; or whether my constitution, always very
inferior, but now more exceedingly enervated, will yield a
sufficient supply of animal strength,—is a great uncertainty.
But of this, my lady, we are absolutely certain, that, whatever
is ordered, by unerring wisdom and infinite mercy, must be
good,—must be best.”

One cannot but experience a feeling of surprise, that, a man in such physical debility was able to evince such activity of mind. Hervey could not be idle. To have been totally unemployed would not have retarded, but probably have hastened his decease. To some men, at least, a certain amount of work is a solace. It braces the mind; and enables the sufferer to better bear the afflictions of the body. So it was with Hervey. In the house of his brother, he had a comfortable home; and his father and friends were able and willing to afford him all the help he needed. No man was more free from the love of money. His wants were few, and his earthly longings were quite as limited. He had no need to work; but work was what he liked. His brain teemed with thought; and it was no inconsiderable relief to put some of his conceptions and conceits on paper. Besides, as he himself was wont to solicit the critical kindness of his friends, in the revision of his writings; so he sometimes rendered the same assistance to others. The following was written to the Rev. Mr. Pearsall, of Taunton, and is somewhat amusing as coming from one of the most florid writers of the period,—

“_May 29, 1751._

“REV. AND DEAR SIR,—Give me leave to return my best thanks for
your obliging letters and very valuable manuscripts: those,
I mean, which you were so kind as to transmit for my use. I
look upon them as a detachment of auxiliary forces, seconding
and supporting a feeble attempt to oppose the enemies, and to
spread the conquests, of _Free Grace_. I wish they had fallen
into abler hands: for mine, weak, always weak by nature, are
now enervated to the last degree by sickness. For several
hours, I have been unable to take up my pen; and could only
endeavour, by resting myself in some easy posture, to sustain a
being, whose _strength is become labour and sorrow_.

“I now return, after a long delay, your truly pleasing and
profitable letters. I have read them with singular pleasure;
and, I hope, with some improvement. Many parts I perused
several times; and the warm piety, garnished by an elegant
fancy, made them as delightful as if they were new. I cannot
pretend to the merit of doing your compositions any service;
unless it be in this one circumstance, that, I have detained
them from you for a considerable time; by which means, they
will be, in a manner, new to your own eye: and you will be much
more capable of judging maturely, concerning each sentiment,
and every expression.

“One thing, in general, let me remark: That, my worthy friend’s
genius is too rich; his invention quite luxuriant. He must use
the pruning knife, and cut off several of the shoots. Yes,
though they are perfectly beautiful, they must be sacrificed;
that, the fruit may acquire the finer flavour. There is a
certain prettiness in some periods, that betrays us all into an
ill-judged redundancy; which, though its neatness should secure
it from being tiresome, yet, weakens the force of the principal
thought.

“I wish you would introduce some suitable _descriptions_ to
beautify the last letters. As they all turn upon the same
subject, and have no pieces of entertaining _scenery_ to
enliven them, I fear, they will read a little flat and heavy;
especially when compared with the preceding ornamented pages.

“A few alterations I have proposed, and only proposed. Admit,
or reject them, as shall appear, on your own examination,
most expedient. Don’t, dear sir, be _hasty_ in publication.
Compositions, that would spread far and continue long, in an
age of so much refinement, should be touched and re-touched.

“I remain, dear sir, your obliged friend, and affectionate
brother,

“JAMES HERVEY.”[194]

The sick man used his utmost endeavours to be useful. Writing to another friend, towards the close of the year 1751, he says,—

“If I mistake not, you are a subscribing member of the Society
for Promoting Christian Knowledge. Will you be so kind as to
procure for me a dozen Bibles, and a dozen of the Bishop of Man
on the Lord’s Supper. I give away this to communicants, because
it has the Communion Service in it; and because it is more
evangelical, and less exceptionable than the generality of what
are called preparations for, or companions at, the Sacrament.
Too many of these books, by long prayers for each day of the
week, and by injudicious representations, have sometimes, I
fear, the contrary effect to what is intended. I had once a
design, nor have I wholly laid it aside, of extracting from
“Jenks’ Office of Devotion,” the few leaves, he has there wrote
so pathetically on the Sacrament, and of printing them with
the Communion Service; adding suitable observations of my own,
to supply Jenks’ deficiencies. I propose likewise to add what
Marshall says on the subject; and insert, from the Bishop of
Man, his short, yet striking meditations on some well-chosen
texts of Scripture? What says my _fidus Achates_ to this? Give
it a place in your thoughts; and, however we may determine on
this, let us determine to cleave more closely to the Lord, and
wait upon our God continually.”

It is a curious fact, that, there is no evidence of any interview between Hervey and the Wesleys, during 1751. At the beginning of the year, John Wesley was married, in London, to Mrs. Vazeille; and his brother Charles also spent several months in the metropolis; but neither their Journals nor their Letters contain the least allusion to their valetudinarian friend Hervey. With the exception of the month of January, Whitefield was scarcely at all in London; but he wrote to Hervey, from Bristol, as follows:—

“BRISTOL, _March 17, 1751_.

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—This comes with a summons from good Lady
Huntingdon, for you to appear in Bristol, and abide for a month
or two at my brother’s house. You must not refuse. The God,
who has carried that elect Lady through such bad roads from
Ashby hither, will take care of you, and, I am persuaded, you
will not repent your journey. Her Ladyship made the motion to
me, and intends writing herself. Blessed be God! she is much
better, and I trust will do well. She will have nobody to give
her the Sacrament unless you come. I hope this will find you
at the Tabernacle House. I ventured, the other day, to put out
a guinea to interest for you. It was to release an excellent
Christian, who, by living very hard, and working near twenty
hours out of four-and-twenty, had brought himself very low.
He has a wife and four children, and was above two guineas in
debt. I gave one for myself and one for you. We shall have good
interest for our money in another world.”

Hervey’s health was such that he declined yielding to this request;[195] and Whitefield wrote him another of his great-hearted letters:—

“EXETER, _April 11, 1751_.

“MY VERY DEAR MR. HERVEY,—I was pleased last night to find, by
my wife’s letters, that, your sister was delivered, and, more
so, because my wife wrote as though you were again under my
roof. This I count a great honour, and such a privilege, that,
I wish to have the favour conferred upon me as long as I live.
These my hands (could they work, and was there occasion for it)
should readily minister to your necessities. If my wife should
come down to Bristol, pray let not my dear Mr. Hervey move. If
Molly stays in London, she will take care of you; if not, Polly
and Mr. D⸺ will gladly wait upon you. I have preached about
forty times since I left London, and have been enabled several
times to ride forty miles in a day. I find, that, this sensibly
refreshes me. I wish you could say so too: your Bideford
friends would then see you. They hold on their way, and long
to have a line from you. I hope Jesus gives you strength to
proceed in your book. It is inquired much after. The Lord be
with you, and bless your pen, and your heart!”

Hervey was very happy in the house of his friend, and wrote to Mrs. Whitefield, at Bristol, with a playfulness which was unusual in him:—

“This leaves your family in good health, and me, whom you
appoint steward, like Gideon’s soldiers,—_faint, but pursuing_;
faint with bodily languors, but following after that amiable,
adorable God, whose loving-kindness is better than life. We go
on comfortably, and want for nothing, but your company. Mr.
Cruttenden says, I live like a king, and dine every day in
state. I tell him, No, I am nothing more than lord high-steward
of your majesty’s household; but, since he will have it that
I am a monarch, I this day began to act in character, and
commanded and charged our trusty and well-beloved Robert
Cruttenden, Esq., not to be awanting in his attendance on our
royal person. I hope my friend’s jest is a good omen. I hope
we shall be kings to our God, and reign over the rebels within,
and tread the world under our feet, and sit in heavenly places
with our exalted and royal Head, Christ Jesus.”

In the month of September, Whitefield embarked for Georgia; and, on his arrival there, wrote to Hervey as follows:—

“_February 1, 1752._

“MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—I long to write to you, and inform you,
that, I love you in the bowels of Jesus Christ. This leaves
unworthy me, endeavouring to do something for Him on this side
the water. Glory be to His great name! He causes His work to
prosper in my worthless hands. Follow me with your prayers;
and who knows but we may meet once more on this side heaven. I
find our dear Mr. Hervey is to be detained longer from thence.
I think he will have to bury many stronger men. I wish Lisbon
may be blessed to Dr. Doddridge. I hope you write to Lady
Huntingdon, and see her frequently. I was rejoiced to hear,
from my dear yoke-fellow, that, her Ladyship was bravely:
this was joy indeed. It is a new year. God quicken my tardy
pace, and help me to do much work in a little time! This is my
highest ambition.”

Dr. Doddridge, the beloved and honoured friend of Hervey, was already dead. The great Dissenter, in feeble health, had embarked for Portugal, in the same month as Whitefield started for America. He landed at Lisbon on October 13th, 1751; and, thirteen days afterwards, peacefully expired. In writing to Lady Frances Shirley, in reference to this event, Hervey intimates, that, heaven to him was now more attractive than ever. The removal of his friends made it easier for himself to die. Like Whitefield, he entered upon the year 1752, in the spirit of ardent gratitude, and entire devotedness to the service of his Saviour.

“I bless God,” said he, “I want for nothing;—nothing, unless
it be a heart more deeply and devoutly affected with His
most undeserved goodness. My brother, also, at whose house I
live, is in a course of business, flourishing and prosperous,
as can be wished. I am one with the Methodists in my heart;
though hampered and withheld from acting, by a languishing
constitution.”

This was written January 18, 1752. A month afterwards, he wrote as follows:—

“MILES’S LANE, _February 19, 1752_.

“On Sunday last, in the afternoon, we were greatly alarmed.
A fire broke out in a Sugar-baker’s work-house, to which
a part of my brother’s dwelling-house joins. We were all
confusion and consternation; almost smothered with smoke;
and crowded by the mob. Three engines, playing from various
parts of our house, and several others, pouring in water from
other quarters, by the blessing of God, kept under the raging
element; and, in a few hours, extinguished it. It put me in
mind of that tremendous day, when ‘the heavens shall pass away
with a great noise, and the elements melt with fervent heat,
and the earth with all the works therein be burnt up.’”[196]

The accident was alarming; and, to use the words of Hervey himself, “in order to avoid the fire, he had to wade through water,” and caught a cold and fever, which seriously shook his enfeebled health, and confined him to his chamber several weeks.

It has been already mentioned, that, Whitefield prevailed on Hervey to have his portrait taken. Early in the year 1752, a mezzotinto engraving was published;[197] and the following was addressed to the Rev. Mr. Nixon,[198] Rector of Cold-Higham, in Northamptonshire, who had put together eight lines, which he wished to be printed beneath the likeness:—

“I am obliged to you for the favour done me by your letter, and
for the honour done me by your verses, to be engraved under
my mezzotinto picture. I should have acknowledged both these
obligations sooner, if my print-seller had not been dilatory
in publishing the picture, which is now transmitted to Dr.
Stonehouse, and desires your acceptance. I cannot forbear
thinking, that, what is called honour, is a little capricious
and whimsical. I, for my part, had taken my final leave of
her; expected none of her favours; and was become familiarly
acquainted with contempt. How is it then, that, she singles
out a person, whose name has long been struck out of her
list; and bestows her caresses upon a mean creature, who has
been used to sit on the dung-hill? O! that it may be for the
glory of Christ’s grace, Christ’s wisdom, Christ’s power! May
I serve to the Sun of Righteousness, as a cloud is subservient
in the firmament; which, though all-gloomy in itself, exhibits
a rainbow; and, thereby, shows the world what beautiful colours
are combined in that magnificent luminary.

“You are pleased to inquire after my little work. Dear Sir,
add, to your kind inquiries, a prayer to God, that, it may be
executed under the anointings of His Spirit, and appear (if
it ever appears) under the influence of His blessing. My late
sickness laid an absolute embargo upon it, for a considerable
time; and has so shattered my feeble constitution, that, I
proceed like a vessel which has lost its rigging, and is full
of leaks.”

Hervey was, in part at least, a Calvinist. Wesley, on the other hand, was an Arminian; and, in 1751 and 1752, published two of his most convincing and cogent pamphlets, namely, “Serious Thoughts upon the Perseverance of the Saints,” and “Predestination Calmly Considered.” It would not be rash to say, that, both were unanswerable, though Hervey thought differently. On the first, he was thoroughly opposed to his friend Wesley; on the second he was dubious. Hence the following:—

“MILES’S LANE, _March 24, 1752_.

“Mr. Wesley’s last piece I have not read through. I can’t say,
I am fond of that controversy. The doctrine of the perseverance
of Christ’s servants, Christ’s children, Christ’s spouse, and
Christ’s members, I am thoroughly persuaded of. Predestination
and reprobation I think of with fear and trembling. And, if I
should attempt to study them, I would study them on my knees.”

Hervey was now employed in writing his able and beautiful controversial pamphlet, entitled, “Remarks on Lord Bolingbroke’s Letters on the Study and Use of History; so far as they relate to the History of the Old Testament, and especially to the case of Noah, denouncing a Curse upon Canaan; in a Letter to a Lady of Quality.” The great infidel had died on November 15th, 1751; and his book, which had been published posthumously, had created a painful sensation. Hervey completed his “Remarks” on April 22, 1752; though they were not published for some time after: indeed, originally, they were not intended for publication at all. Lady Frances Shirley, having read Bolingbroke’s bad book, wrote to Hervey, asking his opinion concerning it; and the “Remarks” were, in the first instance, nothing more than a private letter to the “Lady of Quality” just mentioned.[199] The pamphlet is a successful attempt to refute a few of Bolingbroke’s bold and unauthorized assertions, namely: 1. That, “the Old Testament is no sufficient authority for _chronology_ from the beginning of time.” 2. That, in the Holy Scriptures, instead of history, we have “a heap of fables; which can pretend to nothing but some inscrutable truths, and therefore useless to mankind.” 3. That, the Scriptures are “full of additions, and interpolations, and transpositions.” 4. That, Noah “was still drunk when he denounced a curse upon Canaan; for no man in his senses could hold such language, or pass such a sentence.”

A wiser man than Lord Bolingbroke once wrote:—

“The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that
which is done, is that which shall be done; and there is no new
thing under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes i. 9.)

In the infidel objections of Bolingbroke, the reader finds the pith of all the infidel objections of the present day; and, in order to refute them, nothing more is needed than to turn to the manly defences of the Holy Bible written more than a hundred years ago. Modern infidelity is the infidelity of Bolingbroke and others, dished up, and served with newly-invented garnishing, and a pretentiously learned flavour. Hervey’s treatise is free from all the ornate faultiness of his “Meditations”; its style is flowing, clear, and forcible; and its arguments fairly put and unanswerable. It would be rendering useful service to republish it in the present alarming prevalency of unbelief.

In the month of May, 1752, the livings of Weston-Favel and Collingtree were rendered vacant by the death of Hervey’s father. The following extracts from letters to Lady Frances Shirley refer to this event, and to other matters.

“_1732, May 19._ I am upon the point to remove into
Northamptonshire. It has pleased God to take my honoured father
to Himself; so that, I am obliged to depart from my present
situation, and to take the living of Weston.[200] O! that I
had strength of constitution, to watch over a flock, and feed
them with the milk of the word! But the will of the Lord is
best. He employs whom He will employ; and whom He will, He lays
aside. Wise and righteous are all His ways. ’Tis very probable,
I shall never have the pleasure of seeing your ladyship again,
on this side the everlasting habitations. My enfeebled state
renders me like an aged tree, which must continue where it is
fixed: to transplant it, or to remove it, is to kill it.”

“_May 23._ I am just arrived at Weston, after a pleasant
journey, in an easy coach, and cool weather. I am much
fatigued, though we allowed two days for about seventy miles.
Thanks are due to your ladyship for making my Letter[201]
acceptable to others, by approving it yourself, and honouring
it with your recommendation. I humbly bless God, if He pleases
to give it favour in the eyes of others; and should think it
the highest privilege, if He would vouchsafe to render it at
all serviceable to their best interests; especially to such a
distinguished and illustrious personage as the Princess of W⸺.
I assure you, my lady, I have not the least aversion to print
any production of mine, in case better judges should think it
might tend to maintain the honour of the Bible, or endear that
inestimable book to mankind. All I fear is, lest acute but
irreligious minds should discover some weak sentiment; should
find some flaw in the argument; and take occasion to wound the
Redeemer, and vilify His truths, through my inadvertence. Be
so good, my lady, as to make my very respectful compliments
acceptable to Dr. Hales,[202] and inform him of my suspicions.
If he would please to revise the little essay, and should think
the ‘Remarks’ will stand the test of a rigorous examination,
my scruples would be very much abated. I believe, I durst
undertake to vindicate all the observations, that are of a
critical nature, with regard to the original language, or of an
historic nature with regard to fact. Whether I offend against
the rules of polite and genteel demeanour, your ladyship is the
best judge. If your ladyship, or the Dr., should persist in
your opinion, I wish you would be so good as to get the paper
transcribed (no matter how close it is written) and transmitted
to me in a frank; for I have no copy of it, only in some
incoherent minutes in shorthand.

“I know not what the Lord will do with me, or how I shall
proceed. My strength is so worn down, and my constitution so
irreparably decayed, that it will be absolutely impossible for
me to discharge my ministerial duty.”

“_June 13._ Weston is near Northampton; about two miles from
the town; pleasantly situated on an agreeable eminence. My
house is quite retired; so that we hear none of the tumultuous
din of the world, and see nothing but the wonderful and
charming works of the Creator. O! that I may be enabled to
improve this advantageous solitude! I did, on the day your
ladyship mentions, ascend the pulpit; and speak, for the space
of half an hour, to my people. But with so much weakness!
O! ’tis well that the eternal God does not want strength of
lungs, or delicacy of elocution; but can do His great work of
converting souls by the weakest, meanest instruments. If it was
not so, I must absolutely despair of being successful in my
labour, or serviceable in my office. I opened my commission to
my new parishioners, from those words: ‘Preach the gospel to
every creature’; and gave them to understand, that, the end of
my preaching amongst them, the design of my conversation with
them, and the principal aim of my whole life would be, to bring
them acquainted with the truth, and assist them in attaining
the great salvation.”

“_July 3._ Advised by my friends, importuned by my relations,
and swayed by a concern for the circumstances of a mother and
sister who live with me, I have been prevailed on to take a
second benefice.[203] This obliges me to set out for Cambridge
without delay, in order to be created Master of Arts. From
thence, I proceed to London, to get a dispensation from
the Archbishop, and the seals from the Lord Chancellor. On
Wednesday night, I hope to be in town; and, if I can get my
business despatched by Saturday or Monday at the farthest, I
may return soon enough to meet our Diocesan on his visitation
at Northampton; receive institution there; and save myself
the fatigue and expense of a journey to Peterborough. I was
honoured with your ladyship’s letter, just as I returned from
visiting my people at Collingtree: the parish which I served,
when I lived with my father, and of which I am going to be
rector. It would have pleased you to have observed how glad the
honest folks were to see their old curate. And why were they
glad? For no other reason, that I can conceive, but because I
used to converse with them in private, just as I spoke to them
from the pulpit; and endeavoured, at every interview, to set
forward their eternal salvation. This, I find, is the grand
secret, to win the affections of a flock. And in this, as in
every other part of true Christianity, our interest and our
duty are connected.”