LETTER IX.

“A City, set on a hill, which cannot be hid.”

TO THE SAME.

Dear Brother,—Having begun the solemn, arduous, and important work of proclaiming the name and fame of the dear God-man, I found the truth was blessed to several, and the Lord led me on. I was presently invited to speak before the Westminster Society very often, and to preach at good Mr. Burnham’s, the Baptist Meeting, in Grafton-street, at seven o’clock in the morning; from thence to Edward-street, Soho; and, it was at this time I was providentially brought to Mrs. Bar’s, in Orange street. I had been in the ministry a considerable time before I went there; and the occasion of my going there was simply this: a Mr. Weston, whom I had heard with pleasure, at the Adelphi Chapel, was engaged to preach at Mrs. Bar’s: I ran from my work, with my apron on, to the house, and when I came there, I found Mrs. B. had heard I was coming to hear the Word, and was asking all who came in, if their names were Church, “for” she said, “if he comes, he must speak to night, as Mr. Weston is not able to come.” She, of course, intreated me to give an exhortation; this I did, as the people were destitute that night. I spoke on my favorite subject, the love of Christ, John xi. 36. The congregation being satisfied, I was invited to visit them every fortnight, which I did, being disengaged on Monday evenings. Here I often found it good to be, and the Lord gave frequent testimonies to the Word of his Grace. I preached several times at Dudley-court, for a Mr. Garniss; and soon after I was invited to Paddington, where I preached in a small room, till it was so crowded they thought it necessary to build a meeting, which was soon accomplished, in Bell-street, Edgeware Road, where I continued my labours as often as possible. When I first went to Paddington, there was no gospel preached there, except by the worthy and useful philanthropic Rev. Basil Wood, whose full value will never be known in this lower world. While thus fully employed, I was called, in providence, to Barrett’s-court, to preach in a house, where an elderly gentleman, Mr. Dunhall, had preached for some years. I generally preached on Fridays and Sunday evenings, till the concourse of people became so great, I was sometimes alarmed for the safety of the house; it was at this place good Mr. Baker, the long and invariable friend of Mr. Huntington, heard me, as he said, with sacred pleasure, and informed Mr. H. of it. Shortly after this, the lease being out, the preaching was given up, which I much regretted; as I had enjoyed many blessed seasons there. I continued at my daily employment, thought over my subjects at my shop bench, and preached wherever I was invited; occasionally for the Itinerants, at Ealing, Mill Hill, Hendon, and other places, but particularly at the Hyde. Thus my head, my heart, my tongue, feet, and hands, were perpetually employed; and I think they were the happiest moments of my life, when, like the apostle, I went forth among the Gentiles, “taking nothing of them, for his name sake.”—3 John, 7. Having lost my favorite spot, another door opened to me. (But more of this presently.) I often regretted I could not hear my favorite, Mr. L. at all, as all my time was taken up, as I have just related; and having been in the ministry about two years, I was speaking one morning, at Mr. Burnham’s Meeting, upon Song iii. 4, “Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?” When I had concluded, Mr. Jesson, who is now in heaven, came to me, and observed, I had been speaking much of the love of Christ, but the question was, had I ever kept his commandments; I told him I hoped I had, at least some of them; to which he replied, that there was one he feared I had not kept, and that was the ordinance of Baptism. I told him I was, in a measure, convinced that adult baptism was right, but I wanted a better understanding of it, that I might see it my duty and privilege to attend to it. This ordinance was that day to be administered, and a sermon to be preached previous to it. I attended, and Mr. B. spoke from this text, “We use great plainness of speech.” This was a plain sermon, on some very plain truths, and which plainly proved the doctrine was from heaven: and what was I, that I could resist the truth? I had, before this period, seen the ordinance of believers baptism was scriptural; but I was now fully persuaded it was of Divine appointment—a sacred institution, and ought to be obeyed as a Divine command. I had heard good Mr. Keeble, in Blandford-street, with pleasure and profit. I knew several of the members, who were pious, discreet persons. It was but shortly after I had heard Mr. B. as above, I proposed myself to Mr. K. as a candidate for baptism: I gave in my experience at the church-meeting, and was received without a dissenting voice, but there was a condition to be performed, to which I hastily gave my consent, which was, to decline preaching entirely, as it was not agreeable to the order of the particular Baptists, to baptize any preacher, as a preacher, without first resigning that office, submitting to baptism, and, after a period, to have his gifts tried at the church-meetings, and then, either going forward, or keeping back, as that church directed. At first, this appeared to be right, and to this I agreed, as soon as I had taken leave of my many little congregations, I would then agree to such orders, and to this I most solemnly agreed before the deacons. I went to all my little places, and bid them farewell, and my mind seemed a little at ease. As I had many doubts rising in my mind, about my call to the work, I thought, in the multitude of counsellors, there would be safety if I ever was called out again; but, after a few weeks rolled away, I was deeply convinced the Lord had called me to the work of the ministry. I constantly kept looking up to God for direction, and it came to me with great power: that as the Lord had blessed my labours to many, and as he had called me himself, qualified me, and opened doors for me, I did not think I was acting right to give it up. Besides, the many pressing invitations on every hand, I concluded that my public work was of much greater importance than my act of baptism. I still considered it of importance to be baptized, that it was a Divine command, and ought to be obeyed; but, why one ordinance was to jostle out another, I could not tell. One Sunday morning, my mind was much distressed about it, and this was attended with prayer, and many tears; my wife seeing my uneasiness, reasoned with me, and told me, as God had called me to the ministry, I ought to go on; and if I saw baptism right, I could submit to that also; and, being thus fully persuaded in my own mind, that both were right, I waited on Mr. K. and opened my mind fully to him; but the good man could not alter the plan, and therefore, I gave up every idea of uniting myself to that body of Christians, and went on preaching the gospel, agreeable to the apostle’s advice, “Let every man abide in the place to which God has called him.” I must confess I do not see the exact propriety of this method, adopted by particular Baptists. I beg pardon if I err; but I will suppose a case: that the Lord should call forth a man to preach his word, and that man have scriptural reasons, with the testimony of God in his soul, and proof of his success, but, through some prejudice, the church disapproves of him—is that man to decline the work, because the voice of the church is not unanimous to the call? I leave this subject for wiser heads to determine. The apostle Paul was first converted, then he was baptized, and then he preached the gospel; and, after these things, he assayed to join himself to the church; but, this is no more rule for believers now than the manner of his conversion was for ours. Some are gently led along, others are deeply exercised with the bondage of the law; some have had a drop of the wrath of God, on the spirit, as David, Job, Heman, and, perhaps, Paul; but, others, only have a slight apprehension of it, yet enough to shew them their need of Christ, as a surety, righteousness, atonement, and complete Saviour. This was my case.—Grace be with you.

I remain yours, J. C.

How harsh soe’er the way,
Dear Saviour, still lead on,
Nor leave us till we say,
Father, thy will be done.
Finish, dear Lord, what is begun;
Choose thou the way, and still lead on.

LETTER X.

“And the Lord shall go before thee.”

To —

How dear are the saints to their Lord; and they are dear to us. The memory of some of them is precious, especially those who have been useful to our souls. The remembrance of our late pastor, Mr. Burnham, will ever be dear to our hearts; it was under his ministry we first met, and with him we hope to spend a blessed eternity, through the grace of our dear Lord. The reasons for my first joining the church, under that good man’s ministry, were this; Mr. Keeble refused baptism to me, because it was disorderly to baptize a preacher without first becoming a member of that church, and being called out by that church; and having occasionally heard Mr. B. I waited on him, and related the whole business, as in my last letter. Mr. B. was as zealous for strict order as Mr. K. but with this difference, that although I might still exercise in the sacred work constantly, yet, till I had passed the regular orders, I should not have the sanction and approbation of the church. This sanction I doubtless considered important; and as I was privileged still to go on in the ministry, my mind was at ease on that subject. After conversation and prayer with Mr. B. I was proposed as member to the church. I attended, gave an account of the Lord’s dealings with me, was strictly examined by Mr. B. as to soul matters, my motives and views in joining the church, and going on in the ministry; and being satisfied himself, and the church likewise, the day was appointed for the ordinance of Baptism to be administered, I spoke, as usual, on the same Lord’s-day morning, and previous to the Baptism, chose that fine passage, 90th Psalm, “And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us.” In the forenoon Mr. B. preached on, “For by one spirit are we all baptized into one body.” It was an excellent sermon. When I came to the water, I was permitted to address the audience, in which I gave my views of the ordinance, and my motives for thus obeying the command. You remember the time, the place, and the circumstances. I was just 28 years of age, and had been above three years in the public ministry. The Lord, I hope, was with us. On the following Lord’s Day, I was admitted to the Lord’s Supper with the brethren who were baptized with me—and shortly after this, I had the painful task to signify to the church my wish to have my talents tried before them, previous to their sanctioning my going out as a preacher. I knew I had the Lord’s approbation; at least, when in a good frame of mind I both saw it and felt it; but if I had the church’s likewise, I should of course be well pleased. Every Tuesday evening was appointed for that purpose. The church met, and the first time I was to choose my own subject, which was John, xvi. 14. This met with general approbation. The next Tuesday the minister was to appoint the text, which he did, Rom. viii. 16. This was not so much to his mind, though he approved of the truths I uttered. The last time was by the church’s request, Rom. viii. 29, 30. These were all approved of, but none like the first. It was then proposed to the church, whether they considered me as called and qualified for the ministry; which was carried without a dissenting voice. Our pastor then gave me a most solemn charge on the subject, and I believe he acted as became a Christian, a gospel minister, and a circumspect man. I felt some sacred pleasure in this approbation, and went forth teaching and preaching. The Lord was with me most sensibly, and many souls were edified, comforted, and built up on their most holy faith. The Scriptures were opened to them, and God gave them light, life, love and liberty. This I have frequently been informed of, from various quarters. I was exceedingly partial to village preaching, and have many times regretted ever leaving it, to be settled over any people; but the Lord had ordained it otherwise before I had an existence: for He worketh all things after the counsel of his own will, and you and I know He is too wise to be mistaken.

God bless and shine upon you; and remember, they that turn many to Christ, shall shine as the stars in the firmament of heaven for ever.

Yours, J. C.

LETTER XI.

“And I will direct their work in truth.”

To —

I think the first time the Lord led you under my poor feeble ministry, was at Lant-street, Borough. I think it necessary to inform you of the leadings of Divine Providence in that business. While a member of the church at Grafton-street, under the ministry of Mr. B. yet continually preaching, I became acquainted with a good man, a minister of the gospel, who had received an invitation to preach at Lant-street, but being engaged elsewhere, he requested I would go in his stead, to which I consented, without asking my pastor’s opinion, or the opinion of any other discreet man: here began my popularity, and here, alas! began my misery also. I went, and soon strutted into the pulpit with long robes, in which, at first, I felt very awkward, but it exactly met the native vanity of my heart: the chapel had been sadly deserted before, but I being a stranger, the place was crowded. After I had preached a few times here, I continued morning and evening for some time. No one in the Borough knew me, and it was so much the better in one sense, though not in another; for, preaching the early lecture at Mr. B’s. then coming into the Borough, preaching again, destitute of a shilling, and acquainted with no one in the neighbourhood, I was obliged to walk, perhaps in the afternoon, to Redcross-street, in the City, and back to Lant-street, to preach my fourth sermon for the day; yet, no one invited me to partake a dinner with them for some weeks; this made me faint and weary, till my circumstances were better known, and then I found the people in the Borough, and St. George’s Fields, the most generous and friendly I ever met with in my travels; but I must make you smile. A good man, who is an excellent preacher now, and who has long known me, one day, about this time of my preaching at Lant-street, said to me, “C. I think you play the hypocrite the best I ever knew one in my life.” This startled me at first, till he explained himself thus: “I was hearing you at Lant-street, last Sunday, and saw you dressed in your full robes, and yet I knew you had not a shoe to your feet, and in the most indigent circumstances.” I only replied, that I thought being poor, and seeming so, was of no use to me. Mr. G. returned from his travels, so that my services were then wanted no more there. Mr. G. did not know me at that time. I knew him, having heard him once only, some years before I was in the ministry; but, hearing much of me, he sent for me, to preach, one Lord’s-day evening. The gentleman alluded to in the beginning of this letter, was asked for some one to go into Oxfordshire; his mind ran directly to me, and he advised me to go there; and, as usual, I soon gave my consent, and went down to the place, the day before Christmas Day: the journey was long, but I arrived safe, was cordially received, and preached there on the Christmas Day; I was well received, and abode a month; the people and the managers treated me with every mark of affection, and I returned to London, loaded with their kindness. Never having experienced such treatment before, and meeting with some experimental Christians, and many who loved the truth, the people became very dear to me; it was shortly proposed to me to settle with them, and I gave my consent. Here I acted just as self willed as I had done before, and advised with no godly minister, or experienced people upon the subject. It is the wisdom of the wise to understand his way, but, alas! I did not; which I see the folly of now it is too late to mend, but the Lord has borne long with my manners in the wilderness.

Yours, truly, J. C.

And while upon the earth I live,
I want the Saviour’s love in view,
And say, my God, my sins forgive,
And pardon all my virtues too.