Chapter II: Part 2

“Honoured Sir—in reply to your letter concerning Mr. C. I can only
inform you, there was a report against him of a very scandalous
nature; but how far his culpability extends, it is quite out of my
power to determine. He was absent from hence when the rumour first
spread. The managers of our chapel took great pains to inquire into
the origin of such reports, and the result was, they sent Mr. C.
positive orders never, on any account, to return to Banbury again;
which advice he has hitherto wisely observed. Now, sir, after giving
you the above information, I beg leave to conclude the subject by
referring you to your own comment hereon.

(Signed) S. HALL.

_Banbury_, _March_ 7, 1817.”

Then follows a letter from William Clark, of Ipswich, a young man between 19 and 20 years of age, which contains an account of attempts to horrid to be published. The written confession (frightful indeed it is) of this poor simple young man, whose mind was bewildered by the canting exhortations of Church; and the whole of his statements corroborated by the oral testimony of Mr. Wire, who resides at Colchester, and knows Clark very well. The circumstances related by Clark would have furnished ample grounds for a criminal prosecution had he made his complaint _immediately_ after the _assault_ was committed:—but, suffering under the influence of ignorance and fear, he kept it a secret too long, and afterwards accepted of a pound note from Church. A case was laid before two eminent barristers, to have their opinion whether such a prosecution could be carried on with any prospect of conviction. Their opinion, in writing, is, that after the long concealment of a charge, a jury would pay no attention to his evidence, unless he was confirmed in his story by other evidence.

_Extract from the confession of William Clark_, _of Ipswich_.

“Having been called by Providence to Colchester, I went to hear John
Church preach in a barn, was invited to Mr. Abbot’s; was prevailed
upon to sleep with John Church; I did sleep with him three nights;
after being enticed to many _imprudencies_, I was under the necessity
to resist _certain attempts_, which, if I had complied with, I am
fearful must have ruined _both soul and body_: the crime is _too
horrid_ to relate.

Wm. Clark.

Richard Patmore, J. Ellisdon, C. Wire, H. T. Wire. Witnesses.

P.S. This took place in March last, 1812.”

The peace of this poor lad’s mind is completely destroyed, so fatally has the event preyed upon him;—so far as to fill the bosom of his aged father with such a spirit of indignation and revenge, that he actually came up to London with a full determination to be the death of him who had thus ruined the peace of his beloved son, while the mother’s mind was not less distracted than that of the father’s. In consequence of this, the father entered John Church’s meeting-house, with two loaded pistols, one in each pocket; but, under the excess of agitation, he fainted away, and was carried out of the place.

The following will cast some light on the preceding:—

“_Colchester_, _September_ 16, 1812.

“SIR,

“Last evening I had an interview with Clark’s father, who wishes him
to comply with your wishes. I mentioned to him respecting Church’s
conduct, and I find the last night to be the worst. Likewise that he
would have committed the act had not Clark prevented him. The
particulars I told you when in London, but find them worse than what
I described to you. They are not able to be at any expense; but if
the gentlemen wish to prosecute, and to pay Clark’s expenses up to
London, &c. he will have no objection to come when you please to
send. I need only say I wish you to inform the gentlemen, and give
me a line.

I am, dear Sir, your’s, &c.
C. WIRE.”

In addition to the above testimonies, a very long narrative of atrocities committed by JOHN CHURCH; while he resided at Banbury, has been written by a minister at that place; but the facts are too disgusting and shocking to be published.

In the month of April, 1813, a Mr. Webster, who was employed in the house of Messrs. Evans and Co. eminent Hop Merchants, in the Borough, having, this being the time the first public exposure of Church’s character took place, asserted his readiness to prove Church’s infamy, was immediately seized upon by a fellow of the name of Holmes, and another creature of the name of Shaw, a sort of attorney in St. George’s Fields, who had been employed by Church, and dragged to a lock-up-house in the Borough, on a charge of riot, of which the following account appeared in the Morning Chronicle.

_Riots at the Obelisk_.—Tuesday, a Mr. Webster, who is employed in the house of Messrs. Evans and Co. eminent Hop-Merchants, in the Borough, was charged at Union-Hall, by a person of the name of Shaw, with committing a riot and a breach of the peace, on Sunday morning, at the Obelisk, in St. George’s Fields, near the entrance of a chapel belonging to a preacher named John Church. The magistrate said, that as Mr. Birnie, who had, on a former day, heard another case similar to this, was absent, they wished the case might be deferred until next day, and desired Mr. Webster to attend accordingly. The prosecutor observed, that it would be dangerous to allow Mr. Webster to be at large, and desired that he might be kept in custody or held to bail. The magistrate asked if there was any person present ready to be bail for his appearance. Mr. Robert Bell, the Editor of the _Weekly Despatch_, who accompanied Mr. Webster as his friend, a housekeeper, in Lambeth, said he was ready to bail him. The prosecutor then said, he had also a very serious complaint to make against Mr. Bell, for the article which he published in his last Sunday’s newspaper, respecting Mr. Church, and he had one of the papers in his hand. Mr. Bell told the Magistrates that he was ready to meet any complaint of this kind, that he conceived it to be his duty, as one of the guardians of public liberty, and public morals, to send forth the statement in question; that he could prove the truth of every thing he had written and published. The worthy magistrate then asked Mr. Webster if he would promise, on his honour, to attend next day, which Mr. Webster assured him he would do, and retired. It is necessary to mention that Mr. Webster had been kept in a state of imprisonment during the greater part of Sunday, and all Sunday night.

April 7, 1813, Mr. Webster having appeared again before the magistrates, disclosed, in the course of the examination, the fact of Church having, some years since, made an attempt of an abominable nature, on the person of his younger brother, the magistrate, struck with horror, immediately stopt all proceedings against Mr. Webster, and desired his brother to be brought forward. The office was cleared of all persons, except the parties immediately concerned; the brother’s deposition was taken, and a warrant was issued for Church to appear there the next day.

On Wednesday, J. Church appeared, in consequence of the warrant issued the day before for his apprehension on a charge of abominable practices, attended by a number of his deluded followers. Mr. W. Webster having deposed as to his attempts on him, Church was ordered to find bail for his appearance at the next Middlesex Sessions, and Mr. Webster bound over to prosecute. The magistrate observed that from the length of time which had elapsed since the offence had been committed, he thought a jury would not feel justified in finding him guilty. Mr. Johnston, a young gentleman of the law, who attended for Mr. Webster, replied, that it was not the time for them to discuss what was likely to be the verdict of a jury;—that he had recommended Mr. Webster to prefer an indictment against Church, and Mr. Webster had come to that resolution; and whatever might be the result of the trial, the evidence relating to the conduct of Church would be of that disgusting nature as to stamp his name with eternal infamy and disgrace. Church’s attorney observed that it was a conspiracy amongst another sect to ruin Mr. Church’s character. This Mr. Johnson denied and said that it was merely a desire to bring him to merited punishment. Mr. Johnston also said that if Mr. Church acted like a man of prudence, and consulted his own interest, he would desist from preaching until the indictment had been tried, as it would be the means of preventing a breach of the peace, but this he declined; and Shaw; his attorney, said they should follow their own advice. Mr. Johnston informed Church’s attorney that it was Mr. Webster’s intention to indict, or bring an action against him for an assault and false imprisonment.

On that very evening (incredible as it may appear) this very man held to bail for trial on the most horrid charges, given on oath, had the impudence to go into his chapel and preach to a crowded audience.

On the 6th of June, 1813, the Grand Jury for the county of Middlesex found a bill of indictment against John Church, for his attempt, some years ago, on a lad, named Webster. On the 12th of July following, he was tried and _acquitted_.—If any surprise is manifested at this acquittal, let it be recollected, that this prosecution was ordered by the magistrates, and did not _originate_ with the prosecutor, William Webster, on whom the abominable attempt was alleged to have been made (now fourteen years ago). The very mention of the attempt was a mere incidental circumstance arising out of another proceeding then before the Magistrates. Let the reader also take notice of the following sentence:—“The magistrate observed, that from the length of time which had elapsed since the offence had been committed, he thought a Jury would not feel justified in finding him guilty.” This William Webster, therefore, must be considered, in all respects, as an unwilling prosecutor. He was supported only by one counsel, then of young standing, (Mr. Adolphus,) who had to struggle against two of the most able advocate (Messrs. Gurney and Alley) in the criminal courts. It appears also that Webster gave his evidence with embarrassment and trepidation, and that he suffered himself to fall into some inconsistencies. With this _solitary_ and confused evidence, and after a lapse—after a _silence_ of ELEVEN YEARS, was it possible to suppose that a Jury would have found any man guilty? But the verdict did not, in the slightest degree, affect any of the numerous accusations, of a more recent date, which have been made against John Church. From the reports that had gone abroad, that he was addicted to certain abominable propensities, gentlemen in the neighbourhood of the Surrey Theatre, dreading the disgrace of pollution which Christianity might suffer from the immoral character of any of its teachers, investigated these rumours, and the following fact came to light.—James Cook was released from his two year’s imprisonment, on the 21st of September, 1813, the landlord of the infamous house in Vere-street. They accidentally met and recognized each other, and a correspondence took place between these _old_ acquaintances, on the 13th of October following. A _fac simile_ of the letter has been published, in Church’s own hand-writing, offering Cook assistance to set up another house, as may be perceived:—

“Dear Sir,

“Lest I should not have time to call or converse with you, as I shall
not be alone to Day, I thought it But right to Drop you a Line. I
wish you all the success you can desire in getting a house _fit for
the business_ in the public line; and, as you had a great many
acquaintances, they ought not to fail you; if every one acted right,
according to there ability, I am sure you would soon accomplish it.
As I am By no means Rich, but rather embarrassed, I hope you will
accept my mite towards it, 1l. 1s. and you shall have another as
convenient, wishing you all prosperity,

“I Remain Your’s sincerely,
J. CHURCH.”

For Mr. Cook, at Mr. Halladay’s, Richmond: buildings, Dean-street.

There is another letter bearing the two-penny post mark of the 20th of October.—It is as follows:—

“Dear Sir,

“I received your note this morning in Bed, as I have contracted such
a Dreadful cold Being wet on Tuesday I am very much grieved i have
not been able to comply with the request concerning Mr. C— But I
shall certainly keep my eye upon him and Do him all the Good it lays
in my power where ever he is he knows my Disposition too well to
impute any remissness to my conduct But I cannot do impossibilities
as I have Lately had and have now Got so many Distressing cases in
hand Beside, I will Be sure to call on you as soon as I can—But am
not able to day

“I remain Yours, J. CHURCH.

“32 hercules Buildings”

Badly directed to Mr. Oliver, (or Holloway,) No. 6, Richmond’s
Buildings, Dean-street, Soho.

The following is a narrative which Cook has given of his acquaintance with _Parson Church_; and which was taken down from his own dictation by Mr. E— B—:

“In May, 1810, I was in company with Mr. Yardley and another young
man by the name of Ponder. I found after that the said Ponder was a
drummer in the Guards; I called at a house in the London-road, where
I saw Mr. Church the first time in my life: there was at this house
about twelve or fourteen altogether, drinking gin, and Mr. Church
handed me a glass of the same, which I took; Church behaved very
polite to me, and said what a fine fellow I was; he pressed me very
much to stop and get tea with them, for he said he would call and see
me when I was settled in the house in Vere-street. I stopped a
little while, and was about to leave them, when Church said I should
not go before I had tea, and flung down, a dollar; and a man, by the
name of Gaiscoin, took the money and went for the tea and other
things, but I would not stay: Church came out of the room with me,
and walked with me as far as the turnpike; there he met another
gentleman, which I never saw before, and I went on and left him for
that time; I think it was six or eight days. I went to live at the
Swan, and saw Church again; he came about three o’clock in the
afternoon, and Mr. Yardley accosted him, “Parson, what are you come
to see the chapel?” He said “Yes, and to preach too.” Church asked
me how I was; I said I was not very well: he asked me why I went away
in that shy manner; I told him he was a stranger to me, and I did not
like to be intruding on strange people: he said I was shy—he did not
know what to make of me; he also pressed me very much to take a walk
with him, but I declined it: he said I must go, but I still declined,
and did not go with him; he staid some time, and joined the company
in the back parlour—persons by the name of Miss Fox and Miss Kitty
Cambrick was among them, and the Queen of Bohemia. As Mr. Church was
going away, he came to the bar and spoke to me, and said I must take
something to drink, which I did, and he paid for it, and left the
house for that time. In a few days he called again, in the
afternoon, and there was not many people there; he asked if Yardley
was at home; I said he was not; he said he was very sorry for it; I
asked him what he wanted; he said he came on purpose for me to take a
walk with him, but I did not go: he said he would wait until Yardley
came in. Church said I should do him a great favour if I would take
a walk with him; I would not go—he still pressed me very much to go:
I said I would if he would wait till I had cleaned myself: he waited
more than two hours for me; I went to sleep because I would not go
with him; and in the mean time he waited so long that he was tired;
he sent the waiter to call me, which he did, and said the Parson
wanted me, and had been waiting two hours for me; I said, let him
wait, for I should not come; he returned, and said if I would but
speak to him, he should go away happy; I found I could not get rid of
him—I went down stairs; he said, well, sir, I hope your nap has done
you good; I said, I don’t know, don’t bother me. He said I was very
cross to him; I told him there was other men without me; if he wanted
to preach, not to preach to me about crossness. He said, well, if
that was the case, he was very sorry he had offended me; I told him
he had not offended me nor pleased me; but as I was not well, the
less any one talked to me the better I liked it; he said, if I was
but friends with him, and shake hands with him, he should go away
happy. Mr. Yardley said, he never see such a fellow as I was, for I
had affronted every body that came to the house. I then shook hands
with the Parson, for at that time I did not know his name. He shook
hands with me, and we had something to drink, and Mr. Church paid for
it and went away. I never saw him till I came out of Newgate; I was
talking to Mr. and Mrs. Holloway, and telling them there was a Parson
somewhere about St George’s Fields, but his name I did not know. He
asked me if I should know him if I saw him, I said I should; by that
I went to the chapel and saw Mr. Church, and then I asked the people
what was the Parson’s name; they told me his name was Church. I said
he ought to be ashamed of himself to preach there, a ******** and
rascal, and left the place, and went home in the greatest pains I
ever felt in my life, and was resolved to see him, which I did the
next day, and give him one of the hand-bills; and the manner he
received me, was like a young man would his sweetheart;—I began my
conversation; Well, sir, I suppose you do not know me? He said he
did not. I said my name was Cook, that kept the Swan, in
Vere-street. He said he thought so, but was not sure: he said why
did I not call before and shake hands with a-body. I told him I did
not know where he lived, nor I did not know his name until I went to
the chapel and found him out. He told me not to make it known that
he ever came to my house, for he and Rowland Hill had daggers drawn,
and that he should be obliged to indite Hill to clear up his
character, and for God’s sake do not expose me.”—(_Here the narrative
breaks off_.)

As an orator, he delivers himself in a full, clear, articulate, tone of voice; but, to criticise his style, or analyse the _substance_ of his discourse, would be a fruitless labour; it would be like dissecting a cobweb. Unmeaning rhapsodies and unconnected sentences, through which the faintest gleam of morality is not to be traced, must, from their evanescent nature, set the powers of recollection at defiance, they even escape the lash of contempt. But, to gratify the reader, the following _notes_ of a SERMON was taken down in short-hand as he delivered it:—

“God is frequently going forth, and we also are often going to the
window to look for him; the more _vile I am_ made to appear to the
_world_, the more God will _assist_ me. Every citizen is a
free-born. Many have wondered how I could go through so much
trouble. There have been a great many that have wished to see me—I
can inform them, I had much rather they had wished to see Christ.
People may be laughed at for being fools, but, you may depend upon
it, the more God will like them. All that believe not will certainly
be damned. The duties of christianity are not to be preached to an
ungodly world. John Church is very much spoken of, but they had much
better speak of Jesus. The people of the established church feel no
spiritual joy. Spiritual discourse is enlivening to the senses. &c.
The bread of life is not to be given away to _dogs_. I am not going
to turn auctioneer, but I am going to inform you, that, next Lord
day, I am going to publish a book, proving that God, the Son, and the
Spirit, are all one great God. My sermon will be good news and
comfort to all poor sinners. Satan and all his spirits never sleeps;
the power of life and death is only in the hands of our Lord Jesus
Christ. Devils are allowed to harass the people of God day and
night,—no wonder they perplex those they can’t destroy. People are
mostly liable to fall, in their first love, into awful heresies and
temptation. All the Lord’s people do not see into the glory of my
text—’tis like a jewel in a rock of adamant.—The worst sin was the
murdering of God’s saints. When I sit in darkness the Lord will be a
light unto me. I am never tired of preaching, and, I believe, my
dear brethren are never tired of hearing me. Many men laugh at the
doctrine of the new birth—are there not many learned doctors that
know nothing of it? Let a man come under any circumstances, I will
receive him—Don’t laugh at the doctrine of inspiration; be wise, it
has often been preached by our church. If every one that is saved
should be as bright as the sun, what a place heaven must be, where
there will be so many millions! Angels beckon me away, and Christ
bids me come. The sight of Christ, you may depend on’t, will be
worth suffering for. O that I had the voice of an archangel, I would
indeed do wonders. I doubt the superiority of one angel over another
in heaven—Christ is entirely independent of or with God. We must
have the spirit of God before we are his people. Believe in the
predestination of eternal life, but not in eternal death; people that
suffer were before-hand predestined so to do _by God_. Bad or horrid
is the religion of a proud pharisee. The MOB is seldom stirred up
but through priests; there is now a case of the very kind: envy
bursts forth through jealous and envious neighbouring _priests_, and
published by _deists_, there can be nothing to fear; and, I verily
believe; that any thing prayed for to Christ will certainly be
granted, as has always been the case with me. Let us for ever
endeavour to turn every thing, whether good or bad, into good. I do
not care who hears me, whether _God_ or _man_, _friends_ or _foes_,
_devils_ or _angels_, or any thing else; and let them call me an
Antinomian again if they please. There must be spiritual life in the
soul. I do not believe that God begot Jesus Christ—they say too that
Joseph was an impostor, at this very day:—everything that is done
against the church is done against Christ; also, that which is done
against Christ is done against the church; and anything done against
the people of God is done against Christ. It is a most blessed thing
that we can throw our burthens upon Christ. That religion that is
preached by the people of God is God himself. There can be no going
forth until the spirit of God has entered. The Lord Jesus Christ and
the people of God are all one. Christ has no sorrow but the people
of God must sympathise with him; and the people of God have no
affliction but that Christ sympathises with them. This monster—when
he was about to preach, would frequently say to his
_favorites_;—“Well, I am going tip ’em a gammoning story, my old
women would believe the moon to be made of green cheese, If I was to
tell them so. And I must tell them something.”

In consequence of a respectable young tradesman, in the Borough, Mr. E— B—, who was one of his hearers, becoming disgusted with his hypocrisy, and some attempts he had made upon him, leaving him altogether, he wrote the following beastly epistles:—

Had this wretch received a classical education, one might suppose he had been writing a paraphrase on Virgil’s eclogue, beginning with the line—_Formasum_ Pastor Corydon _Ardebat Alexin_.

Copy of a letter, written by the Rev. John Church, Minister of the Obelisk-Chapel, Blackfriars’-Road, to Mr. E— B—, Rodney-Street, Kent-Street, Borough, dated March 3, 1809.

“Dear Ned,

“May the best blessings be yours in life and in death, while the
sweet sensations of real genuine disinterested friendship rules every
power of your mind, body, and soul. I can only say I wish you as
much captivated with sincere friendship as I am; but we all know our
own feelings best. Friendship, those best of names,—affection, those
sweetest power,—like some powerful charm that overcomes the mind. I
could write much on this subject, but dare not trust you with what I
could say, much as I esteem you.—You would consider it unmanly and
quite effeminate; and having already proved what human nature is, I
must conceal even these emotions of love which I feel. I wish I had
the honour of being loved by you as much and in as great a degree as
I do you. Sometimes the painful thought of a separation overpowers
me; many are now trying at it; but, last night, I told the persons
that called on me that, let them insinuate what they would, I would
never sacrifice my dear Ned to the shrine of any other friend on
earth; and that them you did not like, him should have none of my
company at all. I find, dear Ned, many are using all their power to
part us; but I hope it will prove in vain on your side: the effect
all this has upon me is to make me love you ten times more than ever.
I wish opposition may have the same effect upon you in this
particular; but I fear not. However, I am confident if you love me
now, or any other time, my heart will ever be sat upon you, nor can I
forget you till death. Your leaving of me will break my heart,—bring
down my poor mind with sorrow to the grave, and wring from my eyes
the briny tears, while my busy meddling memory will call to
remembrance the few pleasant hours we spent together. I picture to
my imagination the affecting scene, the painful thought. I must
close the affecting subject; ’tis more than my feelings are able to
bear.—My heart is full, my mind is sunk.—I shall be better when I
have vented out my grief. Stand fast, my dearest Ned, to me: I shall
to you whether you do to me or no; and may we be pardoned, justified,
and brought more to the knowledge of Christ. O help me to sing—

When thou, my righteous judge, shall come
To fetch thy ransom’d people home,
May I among them stand;
Let such a worthless worm as I,
That sometimes am afraid to die,
Be found at thy right hand.

I love to be among them now,
Before thy gracious feet to bow,
Though vilest of them all;
But, can I bear the piercing thought,
What if my name should be left out,
When thou for them should call.

Learn these two verses by heart, and then I will write two more, as
they are expressions of mind, fears, sensations, and desires.—I must
close, I long to see your dear face again, I long for Sunday morning,
till then God bless you.

I remain unalterably thy dear,
thy loving friend.
J. CHURCH.”

Another letter was received by Mr. E— B— on the 15th of March, 1809, from Church, without a date, as follows:

“Dear Sir,

“Is this thy kindness to thy once professed much loved friend, surely
I never, never, did deserve such cruel treatment at your hands; why
not speak to me last night in James-Street when you heard me call,
stop! stop! Ned! do, pray do; but cruel, cruel, Ned, deaf to all
intreaties—O why was I permitted to pass the door of Mr. Gibbons when
you and West were coming out. Why was I permitted to tramp up and
down the New Cut after you; I only wanted to speak one bitter,
heart-breaking, painful, distressing, word, farewell: I only wanted
to pour my sorrows into your bosom, to shake hands with you once
more, but I was denied this indulgence. I never, never, thought you
would deceive me—O, what an unhappy man am I; the thing that I most
feared is come upon me, no excuse can justify such apparent
duplicity; O, my distress is great indeed. O my God! what shall I
do? O Christ! O God! support me in this trying hour, what a night
am I passing through; I cannot sleep, its near three o’clock; alas!
sleep is departed, how great my grief, how bitter my sorrows, the
loss of my character is nothing to the loss of one dearer to me than
anything else. O let me give vent to tears; but I am too, too, much
distressed to cry; O that I could. I feel this like a dagger; never,
never, can I forgive the unhappy instrument of my distress in
Charlotte-street. Why did my dear friend Edward deceive me? O how
my mind was eased on Wednesday night; alas, how distressed on
Thursday. I have lost my only bosom friend, nearest, dearest,
friend, bosom from bosom torn, how horrid! Ah, dear Suffolk-court,
never surely can I see you again. How the Philistines will triumph;
there, so would we have it: how Ebeir, Calvin, Thompson, Edwards,
Bridgman, all will rejoice, and I have lost my friend, my all in this
world, except the other part of myself, my wife, and poor babes;
never did I expect this from my dear E— B—. O for a calm mind, that
I might sleep till day-light; but no, this I fear will be denied me.
How can I bear the piercing thought, parted; a dreadful word, worst
of sensations, the only indulgence, the only confident, the only
faithful, the only kind and indulgent, sympathising, friend, to lose
you. O what a stroke; O what a cut, what shall I do for matter on
Sunday; O that I could get some one to preach for me; how can I lift
up my head. O sir, if you have a grain of affection left for me, do
intreat of God to support me; this is a worse affliction than the
loss of my character nine months ago. A man cannot lose his
character twice. O, I did think you knew better; I did think I had
found one in you that I could not find elsewhere; but no, the first
object presented to you, seen suddenly, gained your mind, gained your
affections; and I, poor, unhappy, distressed, I, am left to deplore
your loss. O for submission, but I am distressed; woe is me. O that
I had never, never, known you, then I should never feel what I do;
but I thank you for your company hitherto, I have enjoyed it four
months exactly, but this is over for ever; miserable as I am, I wish
you well for ever, for ever. I write in the bitterness of my soul
which I feel. May you never be cursed with the feelings I possess as
long as you live. What a day I have before me! I cannot go out of
my house till Sunday morning. How can I conceal my grief from my
dear wife?—how shall I hide it?—what shall I say?—I am miserable, nor
can I surmount the shock at all. I have no friend to pour out my
sorrows to now, I wish I had; I am sorry you are so easily duped by
any to answer their purposes: my paper is full, my paper is full, my
heart is worse; God help me! Lord God support me! What shall I do,
dear God! O Lord have mercy on me! I must close; this comes from
your ever loving, but distressed,

J. CHURCH.”

In addition to the confession made to Mrs. Hunter, the following confessional letter from Church, was sent to the great surprise of the Rev. Mr. L—, two days after the offence had been committed. It appears that Church was but very slightly known to the above gentleman, in consequence of some money transactions having passed between them:—

DEAR SIR—Surely upon the reception of this short note you will say,
ah, _Church_ is like all the rest of the parsons, promise much and do
little, yea nothing: to your note I can only with a pained heart
reply _I cannot indeed_—I can scarcely write this note, my soul is
too deeply pierced. About eight or nine years ago Dr. Draper left
the church in the Borough and God opened Chapel-court for me, many
attended and have been blest, now a singular providence, but a most
distressing one, has occurred to take me shortly from my dear, dear
family and beloved congregation. But God has sent Mr. L— to preach
all the truth to my poor dispersed flock, at least so it appears to
me, and I would do all the good to promote the success of Mr. L— that
my poor people might not be starved till I return to them in peace,
which may be many months. My heart is broken, my enemies have ruined
me at last, and I shall never, never surmount it, an unpleasant
affair happening at Vauxall, is added too, and I must take the
consequences: no arm can help, relieve, or deliver, but the Lord’s,
and I feel persuaded the Lord will _not_: judge my feelings if you
can. I shall secretly come and hear you, to get all the good I can
to a heart deprest, disconsolate, and full of woe. Oh, the joy of my
enemies! Oh the distress of my friends! Oh, my poor heart! Let a
sigh go up to God for me when you can.

Your’s, in the utmost distress,

J. C.

The following bad character has been given of Church by Mr. and Mrs. Gee, of the New Cut, who keep a cake-shop, where he once lodged:—

“Mr Church, the minister, lodged at our house a year and a half, and
left last year at Lady Day.

“We were in hopes that we were about to have a godly praying minster
in our house; and to be sure the first night he had somewhat like a
prayer, and that once afterwards were the only times he ever went to
family prayer in our house. Nor could they have any prayer, as he
would be frequently out almost all hours of the night, and would lie
in bed till ten in the morning. Several times he and his wife would
have skirmishings and fightings between themselves, while the
children would be left to run about the streets out of school hours,
and allowed to keep company with children that would swear in our
hearing most shockingly. His children were always left to be very
dirty, and would be sent sometimes three or four times in a morning
for spirituous liquors of all sorts. As for reading good books, or
even the Bible, he scarce ever thought of it, but would spend a deal
of his time in loose and vain talk, in walking about, and fawning
upon young men, that was his chief delight.

“Sundays and working days were all alike to them, for they would send
out to buy liquors, and whatever else they wanted, on Sundays as well
as other days.

“The house would be frequently more like a playhouse (I might say a
bawdy house) than a minister’s house, were a set of young people
would come and behave more indecently than ought to be mentioned.
Even one Sunday morning they made such an uproar as that they broke
one of the windows, after that they would go with him to his chapel,
and, after that, he would give the sacrament to such disorderly
people, let their characters be ever so loose.

“He was always ready to go fast enough out to dinner or supper where
he could get good eating and drinking, but poor people might send to
him from their sick bed times and times before he would come to them.
Seeing so much of his inconsistencies and shocking filthiness in
their rooms, (though they always paid their rent,) we were determined
to give them warning to quit our house, and we do not think that a
worse man or woman ever came into any house before, especially as Mr.
Church pretended to preach the gospel; such hypocrites are much worse
than others, and, besides this, we never heard a man tell lies so
fast in all our lives. It is a great grief to us that ever we went
to hear him preach, or suffered him to stop so long in our house.”

GEORGE AND FRANCES GEE.

It appears from the testimony of George Tarrier, and James Russell, of Redcross-street; of Richard Jessop, of Castle-street; and William Williams of the Mint; that the _Rev. John Church_, on the 16th of November, 1809, also attended at the funeral of Richard Oakden, a clerk in the Bank, who was hung before Newgate, for an abominable offence, on 14th November, 1809. This _pious_ minister and his partizans returned to the Hat and Feathers, Gravel-lane, kept by a Mr. Richardson, where the funeral set out from, to partake of a jovial dinner. His conduct here, it seems, was beyond description.

It is averred, that his wife, upon hearing the infamy of his conduct took to drinking, to avoid reflection, which soon occasioned her death. But, within the last three months since, he has been charged with the above detestable offence, in order (we presume under the mask of hypocrisy,) to rescue, in some degree, his character from the public odium with which it had been marked, he has been induced to marry a respectable woman, who kept a seminary for young ladies at Hammersmith. The verdict of “Guilty” had been scarcely pronounced, when the relatives of the children, with the greatest promptitude possible, took them all away from the said school.

Some time previous to the commission of the offence for which Church has been at last convicted he made an attempt, in the open street, on the person of a poor Frenchman, who had him conveyed to the watchhouse, where a long examination took place, but the proof not being very conclusive, the affair was hushed up.

Since his conviction, Church has resided at the house of _a friend_, where _his followers_ are admitted to see him on producing a card signed by himself, on which are inscribed certain texts of scripture. Will this wretch never cease blaspheming the holy scriptures by his appropriation of them!

It may not be improper to state one of the tricks made use of to threw the prosecutor off his guard. A limb of the law, it appears, of the _Jewish_ persuasion, _gratuitously_ offered to conduct the prosecution for the young man; but upon a refusal being given him, on account of Mr. HARMER being selected for that purpose, it was ultimately discovered that this _philanthropic_ Israelite had been exerting himself towards exculpating Church, with all the ingenuity he was master of in his defence, from the heinous offence alleged against him. The “laws delay” was resorted to, but only to put off the trial till the next assizes, but the expenses materially increased, as a means of deterring the prosecutor from proceeding. It is, however, lamentable to observe, that the charges in bringing such a wretch to justice, should amount to eighty or ninety pounds!

From the acknowledgement of this monster himself, the profits of this _precious_ recepticle produced him from £1000 to £1200 annually.

At length, this precious hypocrite, who has so long set all decency at defiance, by public preaching, notwithstanding his diabolical well known propensities, has been found guilty of the crime he has so long (and so numerously) been charged with. Much as it might be wished that such a monster, under the disguise of that sacred habit, which at all times is entitled to reverence, should be consigned with his crimes to oblivion. But such suppression would be doing a serious injury to public morals. Delicacy at all times ought to be a paramount consideration, but there are cases in which a great deal more injury both to morals and liberty may arise from the suppression than the exposure of indecencies. This we apprehend to be one of that sort, and great care has been taken to avoid entering into any disgusting particulars. It is due to the community at large that such a dangerous character should be exposed to society, and it is equally important to that sacred body, who can only rise or fall in public estimation from their good conduct.

He will be brought up the first day of next term to receive judgement in the Court of King’s Bench. Mr. Gurney we understand, although he so ably and eloquently defended the guilty monster, Church, undertook his cause with the greatest reluctance.

APPENDIX.

Since the publication of our third edition, we have received the following curious epistle, in _print_, from the Rev. J. L. Garrett, whose name is mentioned by us, p. 29 and p. 31. This letter, we understand, has been very industriously circulated amongst his friends and acquaintance. Although we cannot comply with the reverend gentleman’s request, to erase his name from our pages, as it does not appear that we have stated any thing materially incorrect, we will do him the justice to print his vindication of himself, a mode of proceeding which we think will serve the reverend gentleman’s interests more than any other, our work having so unprecedented a sale, that it must carry it into every channel necessary for the Reverend Professor of Natural Philosophy’s vindication, of whose _reformation_ we are truly happy to hear.

THE REV. J. L. GARRETT’S VINDICATION.

_Letter addressed by the Rev._ J. L. GARRETT, _Professor of Natural Philosophy_, _&c. to the Publisher of a Six-penny Pamphlet_, _intituled_, “_The Life and Trial of_ Mr. JOHN CHURCH.”

DEAR SIR,

As bigotry, superstition, and misguided zeal, those dreadful sources of violence, wasting, and destruction, which once too often actuated both my tongue and pen, have now, through divine Grace, for several years, ceased to form any trait in my deportment; you will, I trust, allow me the humble claim, of having that erased from your pamphlet, which a better use of my reason has so evidently erased from my conduct.

Rest assured, I most sincerely wish success to every laudable effort you can exert to suppress vice, but particularly vices so extremity disgraceful to human nature—but have the goodness, Sir, to understand that I never, in my life, was what your pamphlet calls me, a friend or acquaintance of the person you allude to, nor _never_ had any thing _to do with him_, but what was _forced on me_ by _his own insinuations_, which principally were carried on with some of my people in Lant-street while I was out of town.

I also remark that I had no hand in getting him into Banbury; and can only say, would to God that those things which drove him out had been followed by sincere repentance, then I think I should have been one of the first to have administered the consolation of the gospel; but as things are, I shall leave the detection and suppression of vice in abler hands than my own, with this prayer, that “That truly wretched man, may yet be brought with sincere repentance to the feet of Jesus, obtain mercy, and, under the influence and operation of the holy spirit, gain the completest mastery over a nature so awfully depraved, and thus prove that nothing is too hard for God.”

While I remain,

Your’s respectfully,
J. L. GARRETT.

Philosophical Museum,
Mile End, Aug. 28th, 1817.

P.S. Since I sent my note to the press, my friends have manifested some objections to the gentleness of my remonstrances, under circumstances so truly aggravating, as that of having my name at all mentioned in the details of such a filthy concern; and as I have occasionally the instruction of noblemen’s sons, of the first respectability, I must, under every consideration, insist on its being immediately withdrawn.—But, if humanity should dispose you to dispense with my name, in this instance, without further trouble, it shall certainly be at your service, whenever you feel disposed seriously to argue the possibility of one bigot in a hundred being brought to the right use of his reason.

You will, I trust, excuse the shortness of this address, as my own paralytic debility, accompanied with a death in my family, which has not yet advanced to interment, forbids me to say more.

_To Mr. J. Fairburn_,
_Publisher_, _&c._

CHURCH BURNT IN EFFIGY!

We are informed by a most respectable follower of and believer in, John Church, one who gave evidence on his trial in his favour, and whose name we will, if required, give up to satisfy the most credulous of its authenticity, that on Monday evening last, after a visit to his residence, adjoining the Tabernacle, in the Borough-road, he returned to Rock-House, Hammersmith, which he had no sooner entered than the mob, having gained a knowledge of his being there, attacked with mud, filth, and other missile annoyances, and presently broke all the windows, expressing their indignation at Church’s most abominable atrocities; meanwhile, by groans, hisses, and all sorts of execrations, they having previously drest up an effigy of him, in a black silk gown, with a painted _Church_ placed on each side, that the most dull might be informed whom it was meant to represent, paraded with it all through the village, when they finally burnt it to typify those _Gomorrah fires_, which, in the absence of a timely and sincere repentance, we are taught to believe will be the lot of the original in that place where fire is never quenched. Of this repentance we are sorry to observe no signs at present, but we trust the forth-coming punishment (most probably _solitary confinement_) will give him leisure to reflect on his atrocities and awaken him to a due sense of their enormities: truly happy shall we be to hear that the retribution of an earthly judge has shewn him the greater danger in which he stands with regard to his heavenly one.

AN EPISTLE

_From the_ DEVIL _to his Friend mid Follower_ JOHN CHURCH.

OH, say not, JOHN CHURCH,
I’ve left you _in the lurch_,
When _your life in my service you’ve past_;
Though _I seem to forsake_,
My dear John, do not _quake_,
I’ll be sure to _stick to you at last_.

You know that _Old Nick_
Still is sure those to _trick_,
Who think they _as deep are as he_;
And _he_, still, John, it proves,
_Chaseneth_ those he best loves,
And _he loves none so dearly as thee_.

Besides, John, I thought
If I let you be caught
_In your tricks here on earth_, ’twould be well;
For ’twould serve for a taste
Of the joys you must haste
To enjoy with me, Johnny, in h—.

And then, John, your _preaching_,
And _spiritual teaching_,
Had almost grown _too great a joke_;
To those who knew you,
And they were not a few,
Who still laugh’d as on gospel you spoke.

True, you still rail’d at me,
John, _sans ceremonie_,
And no one thought me your sworn brother;
Like rouges in-grain true,
Who their tricks to pursue,
Still behind their backs backbite each other.

_Like me you wear black_,
My dear John, on your back,
Then, hasten, dear John, to come down;
Guilt’s ne’er look’d on so well,
My dear Johnny, in h—,
As when _clad in a minister’s gown_.

_We are hypocrites both_,
To deceive nothing loth,
In short we’re just form’d for each other;
Then _come Johnny_, _do_,
_Or I must come for you_,—
Oh, come to Old Nick, your dear brother.

You shall be treated well,
Dearest Johnny, in h—,
You on _sulphur and brimstone_ shall feast;
We’ll with _fires keep you warm_,
And do all things to charm;
As befits so illustrious a guest.

In h—, John, you’ll meet
Many friends from _Vere-Street_,
Which quite cosey and handy will be;
For their _chaplain_ in h—
You may be, John, as well
As on earth you us’d one time, be.

True, John, scripture you quote,
Like a parrot, by rote,
So too many other men do;
And then ’tis well known
Almost to every one,
I, the devil, can quote scripture too.

Thy locks all so lank,
And thy chops all so blank,
And thy hoarse nasal twangings to boot;
Finely humm’d all the folks;
But adieu to such jokes,
For, like me, you’ve now shewn _cloven foot_.

THE END.

* * * * *

ADVERTISEMENT.

_Irish Gallantry_! EIGHT EDITION, WITH ADDITIONAL TIT-BITS!!!

_This Day it published_, _Price only Sixpence_,
FAIRBURN’S EDITION
OF THE
_UNPRECEDENTED_
TRIAL
BETWEEN
MARK BROWNE, Esq.
PLAINTIFF,
AND
MARTIN JOSEPH BLAKE, Esq.
DEFENDANT,
FOR
Adultery;
INCLUDING
MR. PHILLIPS’s
ELOQUENT SPEECH FOR THE PLAINTIFF
At Full Length;

_With the whole of the_ CURIOUS EVIDENCE _on both sides_, _of which the_
_Judge_ (LORD NORBURY)

SUPPRESSED THE PUBLICATION!!!

Comprising such a Body of _Piquante_, _Unique_, and Extraordinary
Evidence
of IRISH GALLANTRY, as was never before brought
into a Court of Justice.

* * * * *

TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND.
BY T. FINNERTY, ESQ. DUBLIN.

In this Edition is given a complete detail of the Plaintiff’s incredible and unprecedented Bet of £5,000 respecting his Wife; his Whimsical Crim. Con. Rehearsal; His Amours with his House-Maid in the Parlour, and Lady’s Maid in the Carnage; his acting of the “Gallant Gay Lothario;” Horse Imitations; Adventures of “Trusty Roger;” Entertainment of the “Plenipotentiary;” extraordinary Wish concerning a _certain distinguished Female_; Whimsical alteration of Dr. Shadwell’s Name by the substitution of a Letter; New Mode of educating a Daughter; the modern Don Juan, whose Amours would take up a Month in telling; the darling _Piece_, or little Kitty Tierney; Galway _undrest Delicacy_; or, never mind your Clothes; shut your Eyes, and come to those you like best; a Wife’s good Qualities, with a Husband’s Prowess; Michael Tully and Honour Brenan, or _knowing a Woman_ “VERY WELL;” the prudent Nursery-Maid, _up to spoiling a Bed_, but not to _spoiling Sport_, &c. &c. &c.

* * * * *

LONDON:
Published by JOHN FAIRBURN, 2, Broadway, Ludgate-Hill,

* * * * *

_Price Sixpence_.

FAIRBURN’S EDITION of the whole Proceedings on the TRIAL OF ROGER O’CONNOR, Esq. the celebrated Irish Patriot, Friend and Associate of Sir Francis Burdett, Bart. on a Charge of robbing the Galway Mail-Coach, in December, 1812. Tried at the County of Meath Assizes, before Mr. Justice Daly, on Monday, August 4, 1817, and following Day.—_Taken in Short Hand by T. Finnerty_, _Esq._ _Dublin_.

_Price 3s. 6d. neatly done up in boards_, _illustrated with Engravings_,

FAIRBURN’S CORRECT EDITION of the TRIAL of JAMES WATSON, Senior, for HIGH TREASON, including the whole of the Evidence, Speeches of the Attorney-General, Solicitor-General, Mr. Wetherell, and Mr. Serjeant Copley, with the Charge to the Jury, &c. &c. _This Edition contains nearly double the Information of any other_, and may be had in Twenty-four Numbers, at Three-Halfpence each.

_Price One Shilling_. _Embellished with a Coloured Plate_—“_Scene in the Red Bed-Room_.”

THE TRIAL between LORD ROSEBERRY and Sir HENRY MILDMAY, for CRIMINAL CONVERSATION with the Plaintiff’s Wife. Including the Attorney-General’s Speech, and Mr. Brougham’s Reply, at full length. Tried at the Sheriff’s Court, Bedford-street, on Saturday, December 10th, 1814. Fourth Edition, including the Love-Letters.

_Price Threepence_.

THE TRIAL between LIEUTENANT TRELAWNEY, Plaintiff, and CAPTAIN COLEMAN, Defendant, for CRIMINAL CONVERSATION with the Plaintiff’s’ Wife; including the Amorous Love Letters, &c. &c. Tried in the Court of King’s Bench, Westminster, before Mr. Justice Holroyd, and a Special Jury, July 9, 1817.