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isd. 0cJr., nn. 


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Ldte of Bmrnngliam, Eaj^. 

OP »np LATE 





^ COMPILED BY ' *• t 


I ■ 11 I II ! ■> 


REV. J. brewer; a sermon on his DEATH, BY 
PSiilCE. ^ 

Oh JonAthao, thou wut slain upon thy high pla«es. I am <UitreM«d tM 
thee, my brother Jonitfhan !.M...Z>(n;Ml. 

^ *■ 


Vonton : 


JNo. 59 Washington-St. (Cornhill.) 


1 / 


IT was observed by this excellent is«ii, during bit 
last affliction, that he never till then gained any personal 
instruction from our Lord's telling Peter by what death 
he should glorify vCrod. To die by a consumption, had 
osed to be an object of dread to him : But, " Oh my 
Lord, (said he,) if by th^ death I can most glorify thek, 
I prefer it to all others," " '{'he lingering death of the 
cross, by which our Saviour himself expired, afforcte^ 
liim an opportunity of uttering some of the most affect- 
ing sentences which are left on sacred record : And 
to the lingenng death of this his honoured servant, we 
are indebted for a considerable part of the materials 
which appear in these Memoirs. Had he been taken 
away suddenly, there had been no opportunity for him 
to have expressed his sentiments and feelings in the 
manner he has now done in letters to his friends. While 
in health, his hands were full of labour, and consequent- 
ly his letters were written mostly upon the spur of oc" 
casion ; and related principally to business, or to things 
which would be less interesting to Christians in genera). 
It is true, even in them it was his manner to drop a fef^ 

11^ PRXrACK. 

wBtiments, towards tbe close, of an experimental kind ; 
and many of these hints will he interspersed in this bner 
account of him : But it was dnring- his affliction, when, 
being laid aside nearly a year, and obliged to desist from 
all publick concerns, that he gave scepe to the feeling9 
of his heart. Here, standing as on an eminence, he re- 
viewed his life, re-examined the ground of his hope, and 
anticipated the crown which awaited him, with a joy 
truly unspeakable and fvM of glory. 

Like Elijah, he iias left the chariot of israei, and as* 
eended as in a chariot qf fire; biU not without having 
first communicated of his eminently Christian spirit. 
Oh that a double poition of it may rest upon U9 !r 




MR. SAMUEL PEARCE was born at 
Plymouth, on Jul^. 20th^ 1766. His father, 
who survives him, is a respectable silversmith, 
and has been manj years a deacon of the* Bap- 
tist chtjrch in that place. 

When a child, he lived with his grandfather, 
who was verj fond of him, and endeavoured to 
impress his mind with the principles of relig- 
ion. At about eight or nine jears of age« he 
came home to his father with a view of learning 
his business* As he advanced in life, his evil 
propensities, as he has said, began to ripen ; 
and forming connections with several vicious 
school -fellows, he became more and more cor- 
rupted. So greatly was his heart, at this time, 
set in him to do evil, that had it not been for 
the restraining gofidness of God, which some- 
how^ he knew not how, preserved him in most 
instances from carrying his wicked inclinations 
into practice, he supposed he should have beeu 
utterly ruined. 

At times he was under strong convictions^ 
which rendered him miserable ; but at other 
times they subsided ; and then he would re- 
turn with eagerness to his sinful pursuits. 
When about fitteen years old he was sent by 


6 pearce's memoirs. , 

his hHier to inquire after the welfare p( a per^ 
son in the neigh bourhood, in dj^ing circum- 
stances^ who (though before his departure he 
was in a happy state of mind, yet) at that 
time was sinking into deep despair. While in 
the room of the dying man, he heard him cry 
out with inexpressit)le agony of spirit, ^* I am 
damned lor ever!" These awful words pierced 
his soul ; and he felt a resolution at the time 
to serve the Lord : but the impression soon 
tirore oft and he again returned to folly. 

When about sixteen years of ase, it pleased 
God eftectually to turn him to mmself. A 
sermon deliTered by Mr. Birt, who was thea 
co-pastor with Mr. Gibbs, of the Baptist 
church at Plymouth, was the first mean of im- 

Sressing his heart with a sense of his lost con- 
itioB, and of directing him to the gospel rem« 
edy. The change in him appears to have been 
audden, but efi'ectual ; and the recollection of 
his former yicious propensities, though a source 
of bitterness, yet furnished a strong evidence 
of its being the work of Gkid. **^ I believe," 
he says, ** few conversions were more joyful. 
The change produced in my views, feelings, 
and conduct, was so evident to myself, that I 
could no more doubt of its l^eine from God, 
than of my existence. I had the witness in 
myself, and was filled with peace and joy un- 
speakable." ' 
His feelings being naturally strong, and re- 
ceiving a new direction, he entered into reli- 
gion with all his heart $ but not having known 
the devices of Satan, his soul \\as entangled 
by its own ardour, and he was thrown into 

freat perplexity. Having read Doddridge's 
liae and rrogrua of Religion in the SotUj he 


determined formal! j to dedicate himself to the 
Lord, in a manoer recommended in the seven-* 
teentli chapter of that work. The form of a 
covenant, as there drawn up, he also adopted 
as his own % and that he might bind himself in 
the most solemn and affecting manner, signed 
it with his blood. But afterwards failing in 
his engagements, he was plunged into dreadful 
perplexity, and. almost into despair. On a re- 
view of his covenant, he seems to have accus- 
ed himself of a pharisaical reliance upon the 
strength of his own resolutions ; arid therefore 
taking the paper to the top of his father's 
house, he tore it into small pieces, and threw it 
from him to be scattered by the wind. He did 
not however consider his obligation to be the 
Lord's, as hereby nullified ; but feeling more 
suspicion of himself, he depended upon th$ 
blood of the cross. 

After this he was baptized, and became a 
member of the Baptist church at Plymouth, 
the ministers and members of which, in a few 
years, perceived in him talents for publick 
work. Being solicited by both his pastors, he 
exercised as a probationer $ and receiving a 
unanimous call from the church, entered on 
the work of the ministry in November, 1786. 
Soon after this he went to the academy at 
Bristol, then under the superintendence of Dr. 
Caleb Evans. 

Mr. Birt, now pastor of the Baptist church 
in the square, Plvmouth Dock, in a letter to 
the Compiler of these Memoirs, thus speaks of 
him :— '* Though he was, so far as I know, 
the very first fruits of my ministry, on my 
coming hither, and though our friendship and 
affection for each other were great and con- 


stanf, yet previoQS to his going to Bristol I 
had but few opportunities of conversing witk 
him, or of maKing particular observations on 
him. All who best knew him, however, will 
remember, and must tenderly speak of his 
loving deportment ; and those who attended 
the conferences with him soon received the 
most impressive intimations of his future emi- 
nence as a minister of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

** Very few," adds Mr. Birt, "have enter- 
ed upon, and gone through their religious pro- 
fession with more exalted piety, or warmer 
zeal, than Samuel Pearce ; and as few have 
exceeded him in the possession and display of 
that charity which ^ suffereth long, and is kind^ 
that envietli not, that vaunteth not itself, and 
is not puffed up, that doth not behave itself 
unseemly, that seeketh not her own,, is not 
easily provoked, thinketh no evil, that beareth 
all things, believeth all things, endureth all 
things.' But why should I say this to you ? 
You knew him yourself." 

While at the academy he was much distin- 

fuished by the amiableness of his spirit and 
ehaviour. It is sometimes observable that 
where the talents of a young man are ud mired 
by his friends, and his early efforts flattered 
by crowded auditories,^ effects have been pro- 
duced which have proved fatal to his future 
respectability and usefulness. But this was 
not the case with Mr. Pearce. Amidst the 
tide of popularity, which even at that early peri- 
od attended his ministerial exercises, his tutors 
have more than once remarked that he never 
appeared to them to be in the least elated, or 
to nave neglected his proper studies ; but was 


uniformly the gerious, industriotis, docilC) 
modest) and unassuming jouni^ roan. 

Towards the latter end of 1789, he came to 
the church in Cannon -street, Birmingham^ to 
whom he was recommended bj Mr. Hall, now 
of Camhridge, at that time one of his tutors. 
After preadiing to them awhile on approbation, 
he was chosen to be their pastor. His ordina- 
tion was in August, 1790. Dr. Evans gave 
the charge, and the late Mr. Robert Hall of 
Arnsbj, delivered an address to the church on 
the occasion. Tn the year 1791, he married 
Miss Sarah Hopkins, daughter of Mr. Joshua 
Hopkins of Alcester : a connection which ap^- 
pears to have been all along a source of great 
enjoyment to him. The following lines ad- 
dressed to Mrs. Pearce when he was on a 
journey, a little more than a year after their . 
marriage, seem to be no more than a common 
letter ; yet they show, not only the tenderness 
of his affection, but his heavenly miodedness, 
his gentle manner of persuading, and how 
every argument was fetched from religion, and 
every incident improved for introducing it :-^ 

Chipping Norton^ jSuguat 15, 1792, 

** I believe on retrospection, that I have hitl^- 
erto anticipated the proposed time of mj re- 
turn, rather than delayed the interview with 
my dear Sarah for an hour. But what shall 
1 say, my love, now to reconcile you to my 
procrastinating my return for several days 
more? Why I will say it appears I am called 
of God ; and I trust the piety of both of us 
will submit and say. Thy will be done. 

You have no doubt perused Mr. By land's 
jetter to me, wherein I find he solicits an ex- 


change. The reason he assigns is so obviousTjr 
important, that a much greater sacrifice than 
we are called to make, should not be withheld 
to accomplish it I therefore propose, God 
willing, to spend the next Lord's daj at 
Northampton. I thought of taking tea with 
you this evening :—/Aaf would have been high- 
ly gratifying to us both ; but it must be our 
meat and drink to do and submit to the will 
of our heavenly Father. All is good that 
comes from him, and all is done right which is 
done in obedience to him. Oh to be perfectly 
resigned to his disposal — ^how good is it ! Maj 
you, my dearest Sarah, and myself, dailv prove ^ 
the sweetness of this pious frame of soul : then 
all our duties will be swf et, all our trials wiU 
be light, all our pleasures will be pure, and 
all our hopes sanctified. 

<<This evening I hope to be at Northampton. 
Let your prayers assist my efforts on the en- 
suing Sabbath. You will, I trust, find in Mr. 
R a ship richly laden with spiritual treasures. 
Oh for more supplies from the exhaustless 
mines of grace! S. P*'* 

The soul* of Mr. Pearcc was formed for 
friendship : It was natural therefore to sup- 
pose, that while engaging in the pursuit of his 
studies at the academy* he would contract reli- 
gious intimacies with some of his brethren ; 
and it is worthy of notice, that the grand ce- 
ment of his friendship was kindred piety. In 
the two following letters, addressed to his 
friend, Mr. Steadman, the reader will perceive 
the justness of this remark, as well as the en- 
couraging prospects which soon attended his 
labours at Birmingham :*•— 


If 7 very dear Brother, JIfey 9, 1793. 

*< You live so remote that I can hear nothing 
of your prosperitj at Brouehton. I hope joa 
are settled with a comfortable people, and that 
you enjoy much of your Master's presence, 
Doth in the study and the pulpit. For my part, 
I have nothing to lament but an insensible, un* 
cprateful heart, and that is sufficient cause for 
lamentation. This, only this, bows me down ; 
and under this pressure I am ready to adopt 
the words I preached from last evening :— OA 
thai I had wings like a dave^ for then would I 
fiy away and be at rest ! ^ 

As a people we are generally united ; I be- 
lieve more so than most churches of the same 
dimensions. Our number of members is about 
two hundred and ninety-five, between forty 
and fifty of whom have joined us since I saw 
you, and most of them I have the happiness 
of considering as my children in the faith- 
There is still a crying out amongst us after sal- 
vation ; and still, through much erace, it is 
my happiness to point them to the Lamb of 
God, WHO taketh away the sins of the world. 

In preaching, 1 have often peculiar liberty ; 
at otner times barren. I suppose my ex- 
perience is like that of most of my brethren : 
but I am not weary of my work. I hope still 
that I am willing to spend and be sppnf, so 
that I may win souls to Christ, and nnish my 
course with joy } but I want more heart re- 
ligion : I want a more habitual sense'of the di- 
vine presence ; I want to walk with God at 
Enoch walked. There is nothing that grievea 
me so much, or brings so much darkness on 
ny souly as my little spir^tualityi and frequent 


wanderings in secret prayer. I cannot neglect 
the dtttj $ but it is seldom that I enjoy it 

* Ye that love the Lord indeed. 
Tell me, is it so with yoti ?' 

When I come to the house of God, I pray and 
preach with freedom. Then I think the pre- 
sence of the people seems to weish more with 
me^ban the presence of God, and deem myself 
a ql^crite, almost ready to leave my pulpit, 
for some more pious preacher. But the Lord 
does own the word ; and asain T say, if I go 
to hell myself, I will do wnat I can to keep 
others from goins thither ; and so in the strength 
of the Lord 1 wfll. 

An observation once made to me helps to 
support me above water: — **If you did not 
plough in your closet, you would not reap ia 
the pulpit." And again I think the Lord 
dweUeth in Zion^ and loveth it more than the 
dwellings of Jacob. S. P." 

Feb. 1,1793. 

<^The pleasure which your friendly epistle 
gave me, rises beyond expression ; and it is 
one of the first wishes of my heart ever to live 
in your valued friendship. Accept this, and 
my former letters, my dear brother, as suffi- 
cient evidences of my ardent wishes to pre- 
serve by correspond en ce« that mutual remem- 
brance of each other, which on my part will 
ever be pleasurable, and on yours, 1 hope, nev-* 
er painful. 

*' But ah, how soon may wc be rendered in- 
capable of such an intercourse ! Wiieu I left 
Briatoly I left it with legreU 1 was sorry to 

rSAE€S'8 HYliOlllft. 1$ 

leave inj stadiea to embark (inexperienoed at 
I am) on the tempestuoas ocean of publick Ufe« 
"where the high blowing winds, and rude and 
noisy billows, must more or less iaevitahlj an- 
noj the trembling voyager. Nor did it make 
a small addition to my pain, that I was to 
part with so many of my dear companion9t 
with whom I had spent so many happy hours, 
either in furnishing or unborthenins the^nd* 
I need not say, an«ong the first of tnese Con- 
sidered Josiah Evans.* But ah, my friend, 
we shall see his face no^ more ! Through di- 
vine grace I hope we shall go to him, but he 
will not return to us. * He wasted awav, he 
gave up the ghost, and where is he V I was 
prepared for the news because I expected it 
The last time 1 heard directly from him« was 
by a very serious and affectionute letter* which 
I received, I think, last September. To it I 
replied ; but received no answer. I conjec- 
tured, I feared ; and now my conjectures and 
fears are all realiaed* Dear departed youth! 
thy memory will ever he grateful to this affec- 
tionate breast. May thy amiable qualities live 
again in thy surviving friend, that to the latest 

Eeriod of his life he may thank God for the 
-iendship of Jfosiah EvansI 
^* 1 assure you, my dear Steadman, I feel, 
keenly feel, the force of the sentimentf wh}jph 
Blair thua elegantly expressesi^ 

*Of}oys departed ne'er to be reoall'd| 
How paiDml the remembrance !' 


*See a brief account of him, giTen in part Iqr Mr. 
I^oei in Dr. ilippon^s Eegiflter, Vol. I. p. old-^l^« 


14 pbarob's memoi&s. 

*' But I sorrow not as one without hope. I 
have a two-fold hope : I hope he is now among 
the spirits of the just made perfect, and that 
he will be of the blessed and holy number who 
have part in the first resurrection : and I hope 
also, through the same rich, free, sovereign^ 
almighty, matchless grace, to join the number 
too. Pleasing thought! Unite to divide no 
moj^ ^ 

^P '^reached last night from Rev. xxi. 6 : 
<.I wmI give unto him that is athirst of the 
fountain of the water of life freely. ' I took 
occasion to expound the former part of the 
chapter, ^nd found therein a pleasure inex- 
pressible | especially when speaking from the 
first verse,— * And there was no more sea.' 
The first ideii which presented itself to me 
was this — there shall be no bar to intercourse. 
Whether the thought be just or not, 1 leave with 
YOU and my hearers to determine : but I found 
happy liberty in illustrating it. What is it 
that separates one nation, and one part of the 
globe from another ? Is it not the sea ? Are 
not Christians, though all of one family, the 
common father of which is God, separated bj 
this sea, or that river, or the other stream be- 
low P Yes ; but they are one family still. 
Tliere shall be none of these obstructions to 
cqmmunion, of these bars to intercourse ; 
nothing to divide their affections or disunite 
their praise for ever. Forgive my freedoms^. 
I am writing to a friend, to a brother. S. P.'' 

There are a few, if any, thinking men, but 
who at some seasons have had their minds per-^ 


PKAROe's MEMOlBft. 15 


pleted with regard to religious principles^lEVeii 
those which are of the greatest importances 
In the end, however, where the heart is righti 
they commonlj issue in a more decided aw;- 
tachment to the truth. Thus it was wi|h Mjj^ 
Pearce. In another part of the above XletteTf- 
he thus writes to his friend Steadmai/:— 'tj 
have, since 1 saw jou, been much peVnLgiga 
about some doctrinal points, both A^iMbaa ' 
and "Bocinian, I believe through readin^iRrj, 
attentively, but without sufficient dependence 
on the Spirit of truth, 8evt»ral controvi&rsies 
on those subjects ; particularly the writhigs of 
Whitby, Priestly, and others. Indeed^ had 
tile state ot mind I was in about tep weeks 
since continued, I should have been ibcapable 
of preaching with comfort at all. But in the 
mount of the Lord will he be seen. Just as 
I thought of giving up, he who hath the hearts 
of all men in his hand, tind turneth them as 
the rivern of water are turned, was pleased, 
by a merciful though afflicting providence^ to 
set me at a happy liberty. 

I was violently seized with a disorder very 
rife here, and which carried off many, supposed 
to be an inflammation in the bowels. One 
Sabbath evening I felt such alarming symptoms 
that I did not expect to see the Monday morn- 
ing. In these circumstances 1 realized the 
feelings of a dying man. My mind had been 
80 accustomed to reflect on virtue and moral 
goodness, that the first thing I attempted, was 
a survey of my own conduct; my diligence 
and faithfulness in the ministry, my unspotted 
life, &c. &c. But ah ! vain props these for 
dying men to rest on ! Such heart sins, such 

16 PSAHOE's M15MOIR8. 

OMptions and evil propensities retHrred to 
i.^mind, that if ever I knew the monient when 


Illicit my own righteousness to be like loath** 
snuk and filthy rays, it was then. And where 
s^ou^d 1, where could I, where did I flee, but 
to;||ii|p whose glory and grace I had been of 
diegrading, at least in my thoughts P Yes, 
if saw peace for guilty consciences wad 
tVone obtained throu^ an almighty 8a** 
vioVI. - And O ! wonderful to tell, i again 
came to him $ nor was I sent away without 
the blessing. I found him full of all compas- 
sion, ready to receive the most ungrateful of 

' O ! to ftace how great a debtor 
Daily I'm constrained to be.' 

Thus, my dear brother, was the snare broken, 
and thus I escaped. 

' A debtor to mercy alone, 
Of covenant mercy I sing.* 

Join with me in praising Him, who remember* 
ed me in my low estate, because his mercy 
endureth forever. . Yet this is among the €ul 
things. I have found it has made me more 
spiritual in preaching. I have prized the gos« 
pel more than ever, and hope it will be the 
means of guarding me against future tempta- 
tions. Your t)rother, with ardent affection, in 
the dear Lord Jesus* 8. P." 

From his first coming to Birmingham, his 
meekness and patience were put to the trial 
by an Antinomian spirit which infected many 
individuals, both in and out of his congrega- 
tion. It is well known with what affection it 

praroe's msmoirs. it 

was his practice to beseech sinners to be rec- 
onciled to God, and to exhort Christians to the 
exercise of practical godliness : but these were 
things which they could not endure. Soothing 
doctrine was all thej desired. Therefore it 
was, that his ministry was traduced by them 
as Arminian, ' and treated with neglect and 
contempt. But, like his divine Master, he. 
bore the contradiction of sinners against him- 
self, and this while he had the strongest satis- 
faction that in those very things to which they 
objected, he was pleasing God. And though 
he plainly perceived the pernicious influence 
of their principles upon tneir own minds, as 
well as the minds ot others, yet he treated 
them with great gentleness and long forbear- 
ance ; and when it became necessary to ex- 
clude such of this description as were in com- 
munion with him, it was with the greatest re- 
luctance that he came into that measure, and 
not without having first tried all other means 
in vain. He was not apt to deal in harsh lan- 
guage ; yet in <»ne oi his letters about that 
time, he speaks of the principles and spirit of 
these people as a ^' cursed leaven." 

Among his numerous religious friendships, 
he seems to have formed one for the special 
purpose of spiritual improvement. This was 
with Mr. Summers of London, who often ac- 
companied him in his journeys ; to whom, 
therefore, it might be expected he would open 
bis heart without reserve. Here, it is true, 
we sometimes see him, like bin brethren, 
groaning under darkness, want of spirituality, 
and the remains of indwelling sin ; but fre- 


18 pearoe'b MEMOmS. 

quentlj rising above all, as into his native ele- 
ment, ami nouring forth his ardent soul in ex- 
tres^ions or joy and praise. On Aug. 19, 1793^ 
e writes thus :— 

My d«ar Brother) 

** When I take \nj pen to pursue my corret- 
pondence with yot/, 1 have no concern but ta 
communicate something which may ansHrer Uve 
same end we propose in our annual journeys : 
viz. lending some assistance in the important 
object of getting^ and ke^ting nearer to €rod» 
This 1 am persuaded is the mark at which we 
should be continually aiming, nor rest satisfied 
until we attain that to which we aspire. 1 am 
really ashamed of myself, when on the one 
hand, I review the time that has elapsed since 
I first assumed the Christian name, with the 
opportunities of improvement in godliness 
which have crowded on my moments since thai 
period $ and when on the other, \fed the little 
advance 1 have made ! More Hgnt^ to besure^ 
I have; but light without heat leaves the 
Christian half dissatisfied. Yesterday I preach- 
ed on the duty of engagedness in God's service, 
from Jer.. xxx. 21, * Who is this that engaged 
his heart to approach unto me ? saitn th^ 
Lord.' (\. text for which I am indebted to 
our last journey.^ While ui^n^ the necessity 
of A^ar/ religion, including sincerity andardour^' 
I found myself much assisted by reflecting on 
the ardour which; our dear Redeemer discovered 
in the cause of sinners. ** Ah," I could not 
help saying, *Mf our Saviour had measured his 
intenseness in his engagements for us by our 
fervency in fulfilling our engagements to him, 


we should have been now farther from hope 
than we are from perfection." 

' Dear Lord^ the ardoar of thy love 
Reproves my cold returns/ 

** Two things are causes of dailjr astonish- 
ment to me— The readiness of Christ to 
come from heaven to earth for me } and mj 
backwardness to rise from earth to heaven 
with him. But oh how animating the pros- 
pect! A time approaches when we shall rise 
to sink no more : to * be for ever with the 
Lord.' To be wUh the Lord for a week, for 
a daj9 for an hour ; how sweetly must the mo- 
ments pass! But to be for ever with the 
Lord,*— ^^/ instamps salvation with perfec- 
tion ; that gives an energy to our ^opes, and a 
dignity to our joy, so as to render it * un- 
speakable and full of ^loryl' I have had a 
few realizing moments since we parted, and the 
eS^ct has been, I trust, a broken heart. O, my 
brother, it is desirable to have a broken heart, 
were it only for the sake of the pleasure it feels 
in being helped and healed by Jesus ! Heart- 
affecting views of the cursed effects of sin are 
highly salutary to a Christian's growth in hu- 
mility, confidence, and gratitude. At once 
how abasing and exalting is the comparison of 
OUF loathsome hearts with that of the lovely 
SavioBk-I In him, we see all that can charm 
an angePs heart; in oursdves^ all that can 
sratify a devil's. And yet we may rest per- 
lectl V assured that these nests of iniquity shall 
ere long be transformed into the temples of 
God ; and these sighs of sorrow be exchanged 
for^songs of praise. 


*^ Last Lord^s day I spent the mdsf profita- 
ble Sabbath to invself that I ever remember 
bince I have been in the ministry ; and to this 
hour 1 feel the sweet > solemnities of that day 
delightfully protracted. Ah, my brotlier, 
"were it not for past experience, I should 

' My heart presumes I cannot lose 
The relish all my days.* 

But now ! rejoice with trembling 5 desiring to 
* hold fast what I have, that no man take my 
crown.' Yet fearing that I shall find how 

— < *Erc oiie fleeting hour is past. 

The flatt^riog world employs 
Some sensual bait to seize my taste, 

And to pollute my joys.' 

Yours, in our dear Saviour, S. P."^ . 

In April, 1794, dropping a few lines to the 
Compiler of these Memoirs, on Lord's daj 
evening, he thus concludes : — *' We have had 
a good day. I find, as a dear friend once said. 
It is pleasant speaking for God when we walk 
with him. Oh for much of Enoch's spirit! 
The Head of the church grant it to my dear 
brother, and his affectionate friend, S. P." 

In another letter to Mr. Summers, dated 
June 24, 1794, he thus writes: — <*We, my 
friend, have entered on a correspondence of heart 
with heart, and must not lose sight of that 
avowed object. I thank you sincerely for con- 
tinuing the remem(>rance of so unworthy a 
creature in your intercourse with Heaven: 


and I fliank that sacred Spirit, whose qaicken- 
ing influences jou say jou enjoj in the eier* 
else. Yes, my brother, I have reaped the 
fruits of yotfr supplications. I hare been in- 
dulged with some seasons of unusual joj, tran- 
quil as solitude, and solid as the rock on which 
our hopes are built In publick exercises, pe- 
culiar assistance has been afforded ; especiailj 
in these three things~1'he exaltation of the 
Redeemer's elory ; the detection of the crook- 
ed waj9, false refuges, and self-delusions of 
the human heart ; and the stirring up of the 
saints to press onward, making God's cause 
their own, and considering themselves as liv- 
ing not for themselves, but for him alone. 
* ** Nor hath the word been without its effect ; 
above fifty have been added to our church this 
year, most of whom 1 rejoice in, as the »eals 
of my ministry in the Lord. Indeed I am 
Burrounded with goodness $ and scarce a day 
passes over my head, but I say, were it not 
for an ungrateful heart I should be the hap- 
piest man alive ; and that excepted, I neither 
expect nor wish to be happier in this ^\oild. 
My wife, my children, and myself are uninter- 
ruptedly healthy ; my friends kind : my soul 
at rest ; my labours successful, &c. Who 
should be content and thankful, if I should 
not? Oh, my brother, help kne to praise! 

S. P." 

In a letter to Mrs. Pearce, from Plymouth, 
dated Sept. 2, 1794, the dark sid,e of the cloud 
seems towards him : — ^^ I have felt much bar- 
renness, says he, as to spiritual thingSi since 

22 pearoe's memoirs. 

I have been here, compared with mj usual 
frame at home $ and it is a poor exchange 
to enjoy the creature at the expense of the 
Creator's presenile : a few seasons of spiritual- 
ity I have enjoyed ; but my heart, my incon- 
stant heart, is too prone to rove from its prop- 
er centre. Pray for me, my dear, my dearest 
friend! I do for you daily. Oh wrestle for 
me, that I may have more of Enoch's spirit! 
I am fully persuaded that a Chriisnan is no 
longer really happy, and iuwardlv satisfied, 
than whilst he walks with God ; and I would 
this moment rejoice to abandon every pleasure 
here for a closer walH with him. I cannot, 
amidst all the round of social pleasure, amidst 
the roost inviting scenes of nature, feel that 
peace, with God whicji passeth understand- 
ing. My thirst for preaching Christ, I fear, 
abates, and a detestable vanity for the reputa- 
tion of a **good preacher" (as* the world terms 
it) has already cost me many conflicts. Daily 
I feel convinced of the propriety of a remark 
which my friend Summers made on his journey 
to Wales, that ^ It is easier for a Christian to 
walk habitually near to God, than to be irreg- 
ular in our walk with him.' But I want reso- 
lution f I want a contempt for the world ; I 
want more heavenly omindedness i V want more 
humility ; I want much, very much of that, 
which God alone can bestow. Lord, help the 
weakest lamb in all thy flock ! 

*^ I preached this evening from Cant. ii. 3 : 
^I saf down under his shadow with great de- 
light, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.' 
But how little love for my Savihur did I feelf 
with what little affection and zeal did I speak! 


pkaboe's memoirs. S^ 

X am, hj some, praised ; I am followed by 
many; I am respected by roost of my ac- 
quaintances ; but all this is nothing ; yea, 
lens than nothing, compared with possessing 
*this testimony, that I please God.' Oh thou 
Friend of sinners, humble me by repentance, 
and melt me down with love! 

*^ To-morrow morning I set off for Launces- 
ton. I write to night, lest my stay in Corn- 
mrall might make my delay appear tedious to 
the dear and deserving object of my most un- 
dissembled lipc. On, my Sarah, had I as 
much proof that I loved Jesus Christ, as I 
have of my love to you, I should prize it more 
than rubie» ! As often as you can fiiid an hour 
for correspondence, think of your more than 
ever affectionate S. P." 

In another to Mr. Summers, dated Nov. 10, 
1794, he says :— ^^ I suppose I shall visit Lon- 
don iif the spring. Prepare my way by com- 
munion both with God and man. I hope youf 
soul prospers. 1 have enjojed more of God 
within this month than ever since the day of 
my espousals with him. Oh, my brother, help 
me to praise! I cannot say that I am quite so 
exalted in my frame to-day ; yet still I ac- 
knowledge what I have lived upon for weeks.—' 
That were there no being or thing in the uni- 
verse, beside God and me, I should be at no 
loss for happiness. Oh, 

' ' 'Tig heaven to rest in his embrace 
And no where else but there.' 

S. P.'' 




Oh, how sweet it is to me, 
Tore my gracious Lord to fall) 

Talk with him continually, 
Make my blessed Jesus all. 

Oth«r pleasures I have sought, ^ 

Tried the world a thousand times ; 

Peace pursued, but found it not, 
For I still retained my crimes. 

Never could my heart be bWiBVI, 
Till from guilt I found it freed ; 

Jesus now has me released, 
I in him am free indeed. 

Saviour, bind me to thy cross, 
Let thy love possess my heart ; 

All besides I count hut dross : 
Christ and I will never part. 

In his blood such peace I find, 

In his love such joy is given ; 
He who is to JIbsus ioin'd. 

Finds on earth a little heaven. 

The following liQes appear to have been 
written soon after, if not oefore, bia entrance 
on the work of the ministry ; 



Whxkx*er I look into thy word, 

And read about my dearest Lord, , 

The Friend of smful man; 
And trace my Saviour's footsteps tliertf 
What humble love, what holy feari 

Tluroush fdl hM conduct ran 1 

pearok's memoirs. 23 

If I regard the matcbleM grace 
He shewed unto the human race^ 

How he for them became 
A poor sojourner here below, 
Oppressed by pain and sorrow too, 

r can't but love his name. 

And when I view his love to God, 
Those steps in which the Saviour trod, 

I long to tread them too ; 
I long to be inspir'd with zeal 
To execute my Father's will, 

As Jesus us'd to do. 

I read that he, on duty bent, 
To lonely places often went, 

To seek his Father there : 
The early morn and dewy ground 
Can witness, fhey the Saviour found 

Engag'd in fervent pray'r. 

And did my Saviour use to pray, 
Before the light unveird the day ? 

And shall I backward be ? 
No, dearest Lord, forbid the thought ; 
Help me to fight, as Jesus fought. 

Each foe that hinders me. 

And yon, my friends, who love his name. 
Who love to imitate the Lamb, 

And more of Jesus know ; 
Come, let us all surround his throne, 
And see what blessings on his own 

Our Saviour will bestow. 

Though fears be great, temptations strong, 
And though we oft have waited long. 

Perhaps he may design 
This morn to give each soul to see, 
And say with Paul, " He died for me !" 

And my Redeemer's mine. 

Now cheerful we'll begin to pray, 
That he will wash on? sins awa]r 
In his atoning blood : 


t6' fsaroe's memoirs.' 

Thtit he his bleiwing may bestow, 
And give each sinner here to know 
That he's a child of God» 


Stupbndoui love in Christ doth dwell, 
Love, which no mortal toneue can tell ; 
Bat yet, so gracious is the Lord, 
He tells his people in his Word. 

Here, in those lilies of love, f see 
What Christ, my Saviour, did for me ; 
Here I behold the wondrods plan 

By which he saves rebellious man. 

Here we may view the Saviour God, 
Oppress'd by pain, o'erwhelm'd with blood ; 
And if we ask the reason whv ? 
He kindly says : " For you I die." 

Here love and mercy, truth and grace, 
Conspicuous shine in Jesus' face ; 
Here we may trace the wondrous road, 
By which a sinner comes to God. 

O boundless grace ! O matchless love \ 
That brought the Saviour from above, 
That caus'd the God for man to die, 
Expiring in an agony. 

Then say, my soul, canst thou engage 
In tracing o er the sacred page, 
And there his love and mercy see. 
And not love him who died for thee ? 

O stupid heart ! O wretched soul ! 
80 cold, so lansuid, and so dull ; 
Angels desire this love tu know, 
O niay I feel these longings too ! 

Descend, thou Spirit of the Lord, 
Thy light, and help, and grace afford ; 
And, while I read these paffes o'er, 
Constrain my soul to love thee more* 


pea&oe's memoirs^ 2f 


His labonnus exertions in promoting Missions 
to the Heatheju and offering himself to be- 
come a Missionary, 

Mr. Pearce has been uniforinlj the spirit- 
ual and the active* servant of Christ ; but 
neither his spirituality nor his activity would 
have appeared in the manner they have, but 
for his engagements in the introductisn of the 
gospel among the heathen. 

It was not long after his settlement at Bir- 
mingham, that he became acquainted with Mr. 
Caret, in whom he found a soul nearly akin to 
his own. Wheh the brethren in the counties of 
Northampton and Leicester formed themselves 
into a Missionary Society at Kettering, in Oct. 
1792, he was there; and entered into the busi- 
ness with all his heart. On his return to Bir- 
mingham, he communicated the subject to his 
congregation with so much effect, that to the 
small sum of 13/. ^s 6(/., with which the sub- 
scription was begun, was added 70/., which 
was collected and transmitted to the treasur- 
er ; and the leading members of the church 
formed themselves into an Assistant Society. 
Early in the following spring, when it was re- 
solved that our brethren, Thomas and Carey, 
should go on a mission to the Hindoos, and a 
considerable sum of mon^^y was wanted for 
the purpose, he laboured with increasing ardour 
in various parts of the kingdom ; and when 
the object was accomplished, he rejoiced in all 
his labour, smiling in every company, and 
Messing God. 

S8 pbarob's memoirs. 

During his labours and journeys, on this 
important object, he wrote several letters to 
his friends, an extract or two from which, will 
discover the state of his mind at this period, 
as well as, the encouragements that tie met 
with in his work at home :— 


Birmiogbam, February 8, 1793. 
My very dear Brother, 

*'Umdv of sentiment often creates friend- 
ship among carnal men, and similarity of feel- 
ing never fails to produce affection among 
fious m(*n, as far as that similarity is known, 
have loved you ever since I knew you. 
We saw, we felt alike in the interesting con- 
cerns of personal rehgion. W e formed a re- 
ciprocal attachment. We expressed it by 
words. We agreed to do so by correspon- 
dence ; and we have not altogether been Want- 
ing to our engagentents. But our correspon- 
dence has been interrupted, not, I believe, 
through any dimmuuon of regard on either 
side : I am persuaded not on mine. I rather 
condemn myself as the first aggressor; but 
I excuse while I condemn, and so would you, 
did you know half the concerns which devolve 
upon me in my present situation. Birming- 
ham is a central place ; the inhabitants are 
numerous ; our members are between three 
and four hundred. The word preached has 
lately been remarkably blessed. In less than 
five months I baptized nearly forty persons, 
almost all newly awakened. Next Lord's 
day week I expect to add to their number. 

pearol's memoirs. 5^ 

These persons came to my house to propose 
the most important of all inquiries : ^ What 
must y/ve do to be saved ?' I have been thus 
engaged some weeks during the greatest part 
of most days. This with four sermons a 
iveek, will account for my neglect. But your 
letter, received this evening, calls forth every 
latent affection of my heart for you. We are, 
my dear brother, not only united in the com- 
mon object of pursuit — salvation; not only 
rest our hopes on the same found at ion^-Jesi/f 
Christ; but we feel alike respecting the poor 
heathens! Oh, how Christianity expands the 
mind ! What tenderness for our poor^iellow sin- 
Ders! What sympathy for their moral misery! 
What desires to do them everlasting good 
doth it provoke! How satisfying to our judg- 
ments IS this evidence of grace! How grati- 
fying to our present taste are these benevolent 
breathings! Oli, how I love that man whose 
soul is deeply affected with the importance of 
the precious gospel to idolatrous heathens! 
Excellently, my dear brother, you observe, 
that, great as its blessings are in the estima- 
tion oia sinner called in a Christian country, 
inexpressibly greater must they shine on the 
newly illuminated mind of a converted pagan. 
^^ We shall be glad of all your assistance in 
a pecuniary way, as the expense will be heavy. 
Dear brother Carey has paid us a visit of love 
this week. He preached excellently to-night. 
I expect brother Thomas next week or the 
week after. I wish you would meet him here* 
I have a house at your command^ and a heart 
greatly attached to you. S- P«" 


30 pearce's memoirs. 


FehruAty 33, 1793. 

" I am willing to go any where, and do any 
thing in my power ; but I hope no plan will 
be suffered to interfere with the affecting, — 
hoped for, — dreaded day, March 13, (the day 
of our brethren, Carey and Thomas's solemn 
designation at Leicester.) Oh, how the an- 
ticipation of it at once rejoices and afflicts me. 
Our hearts need steeling to part .with our 
much-loved brethren, who are about to venture 
their all for the name of the Lord Jesus. I 
feel my. soul melting within me when I read 
the twentieth chapter of the Acts, and especial- 
ly verses 36—38. But why grieve t We 
shall see them again : Oh,, yes \ them, and 
the children whom the Lord will give them ; 
we, and the children whom the Lord hath 
given us. We shall meet again : not to weep 
'and pray, but to smile and praise. S. P. " 

From the day of the departure of the Mis- 
sionaries, no one was more importunate in 
prayer than Mr. Pearce j and on the news of 
their $afe arrival, no one was more filled with 
joy and thankfulness. 

Hitherto we had witnessed his zeal in pro- 
moting this important undertaking at home ; 
but this did not satisfy him. in October, 
1794, we were given to understand that he had 
for some time had it in serious contemplation 
to go himselt^ and to cast in his lot with his 
brethren in India. When his designs were 
first discovered, his friends and connexions 
were much concerned about it^ and endeavour- 

pbarce's memoirs. 31 

ed to persuade him that he was already in a 
sphere of usefulness too important to be relin- 
quished But his answer was, that they were 
too interested in the aftair to be competent 
judges, and nothing would satisfy him short 
of his making a formal offer, of his services to 
the Conimittee: nor could he be happy for 
them to decide upon it, without their appoint- 
ing a day of solemn prayer for the purpose^ 
and, when assembled, hearing an account of 
the principal exercises of his mind upon the 
subject, with the reasons which induced him 
to n)ak§ the prop<^al, as well as the reasons 
alleged by his connexions against it. 

On Oct. 4, 1794, he wrote to an intimate 
friend, of whom he entertained a hope that he 
might accompany him, as foibws :— > . 

" Last Wednesday I rode to Northampton, 
where a minister's meeting was held on the 
following day. We talked much about the 
mission. We read some fresh and very en- 
couraging accounts. We lamented that we 
could obtain no suitable persons to send out to 
the assistance of our brethren. Now what do 
you think was said at this meeting ? My dear 
brother, do not be surprised that a// present 
united in opinion, that in all our Connexion 
there was no man known to us so suitable as 
you, provided you were disposed for it, and 
things could be brought to bear. I thought it 
ri^ht to mention this circumstance i and one 
thing more I cannot refrain from saying, that 
were it manifestly the will of God, I should 
call that the happiest hour of mj life, which 

32 pearoe's memoirs. 

witnessed our both embarking with our familiea 
on boar] one ship, as helpers of the servants 
of Jesus Christ already in Hindo&tan. Yes, I 
could unreluctantlj leave Europe and all its 
contents for the p^easures and perils of this 
glorious service. Often my heart in the stn- 
cerest ardours thus breathes forth its desires 
unto God : ^ Here am I, send me!' But I 
am ignorant whether you from experience can. 
realize my feelings. Perhaps you have friend- 
ship enough for me to lay open your medita- 
tions on this subject jn your next. If yoa 
have had half the exercises that I have, it will 
be a relief to your labouring mind : or, if you 
think I have made too free with you* reprove 
me, and I will love you still. Oh if 1 could 
find a heart that had bren tortured and ravish- 
ed like my own in this respect, I should form a 
new kind of alliance, and teel a friendship of a 
novel species. With eagerness should I com- 
municate all the vicissitudes of my sensations, 
and with eagerness listen to a recital of kin- 
dred feelings. With impatience I should 
seek, and with gratitude receive direction 
and support, and, 1 hope, feel a new occasion 
of thanKfulness, when I bow my knee to the 
Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. 
Whence is it that I thus write to vot/, as I 
have never written to any one before f Is there 
a fellowship of the Spirit ; or is it the confi- 
dence that I have in vour friendship that thus 
directs mv pen ? Tell me, dear— , tell mc 
how you nave felt, and how you still feel on 
this interesting subject, and do not long delay 
the gratification to your very affectionate friend 
and brother^ S. P/* 

pearoe's memoirs. 33 

About a month preceding the decisioa of 
this affair, he drew up a narrative of his expe- 
rience respecting it ; revolving at the same 
time to set apart one day in every week for 
secret fasting and prayer to God for direction ; 
and to keep a diary of the exercises of his 
mind during the month. 


When the Committee were met at North- 
ampton according to his deiiire, 1^ presented 
to them the narrative ; and which was as fol- 
lows :— 

** October 8, 1794. Having had some pe- 
culiar exercises of mind relative to my persim- 
ally attempting to labour for the dear Redeem- 
er amongst the heathen $ and being at a loss to 
know what is the will of the Lord in this mat* 
ter respecting me, I have thought that I might 
gain some satisfaction by adopting these two 
resolutions ; First, That I will, as ia the pres* 
ence of God, faithfully endeavour to recollect 
the various workings of my mind on this sub- 
JL'ct, from the first period of my feeli^ig anv 
desire of this nature until now, and wommit 
them to writing ; together with what consider- 
ations do now, on the one hand, impel me to 
the work, and on the other, what prevent me 
from immediately resolving to enter upon it. 
Secondly, That I will from this day keep a regu- 
lar journal, with special relation to thisoiattor. 

** This acc«>unt and journal will, *I hope, 
furnish me with much assistance, in forming a 
future opinion of the path of duty ; as well as 
help any friends whom I may hereafter think 
proper to consult, to sive me suitable advice in 
the business. Lord,lielp me! 

34 pbarce's memoirs. 

**It is very common foe youn» converts to 
feel strong desires for the conversion- of oth- 
ers. These desires immediately followed the 
evidences of my own religion : and I remem- 
ber well they were particularly fixed upQ;i the 
poor heathens. I believe the first wetik Aat I 
knew the grace of God in truth, I ^t up 
many fervent cries to Heaven .in their behalf ; 
and at the same time felt a strong desire to be 
employed in promoting their salvation. It 
was not long: after, that the first settlers sailed 
for Botany Bay. I longed to go with them al- 
though in company with the convicts, in hopes 
of making known the blessings of the great sal- 
Tation in New Zealand. I actually had 
thought of making an effort to so out unknown 
to my friends ; but, ignorant how to proceed, 
I abandoned my purpose. Nevertheless, I 
could not help talking about it ; and at one 
time a report was circulated that I was reallj 
going ; and a neighbouring minister very sen- 
ou-sly conversed with me upon the subject. 

♦'While I was at the Bristol Academy, the 
desire remained ; but not with that energy as 
at first, except on one or two occasions. Be- 
ing sent by my tutor to preach two Sabbaths 
at Coldford) I felt particular sweetness in de- 
Toting the evenings of the week to going from 
house to house among the colliers, who dwell in 
the Forest, of Deane^ adjoining the town, convers- 
ing and praying virith them and preaching to them. 
In these exercises Iffound the most solid satisfac- 
tion that I have ever known in discharging the 
duties of my calling. In a poor hut^with a stone 
to stand upon, and a three-legged stool for my 
desk, surrounded with thirty or forty of the' 


wnutty. neighbours, I have felt such an unc- 
tion irom above, that my whole auditory have 
been melted into tears, whilst directed to ^ the 
Lamb of God's which taketh away the sin of the 
world ;' and I, weeping amons them, could 
scarcely speak, or they hear, for interrupting 
sighs 4nd sobs. Many a time did I then think. 
Thus it was with the apostles of our Lord, when 
they went from house to house among the 
poor heathen. In work like this, I could live 
and die. Indeed, had I at that time been at 
liberty to settle, I «hould have preferred that 
situation to any in the kingdom with which t 
was tlien acquainted. 

^^ But the Lord placed me 1^ a situation 
very diiferent He brought me to Birming- 
ham ; and ht^re, among the novelties, cares, 
and duties of my station « I do not remember 
any wish for foreign service, till after a resi- 
dence of some months I heard Dr. Coke preach 
at one of Mr. Wesley's chapels, from Fsalm 
Ixviii. 3i. ^Ethiopia shall soon stretch out 
her hands unto God.' Then it was, that in Mr. 
H(»rne's phrase, ^ I felt a passion foi missions.' 
Then I felt an interest in the state of the 
heathen world far more deep and permanent 
than before, and seriously thought how I. could 
best promote their obtaining tlie knowledge of 
the crucified Jesus. 

** As no way at that, time was open, I can- 
not say that I thought of taking a part of the 
good work among the heathen abroad ; but re- 
solved that I would render them all the a^Ats- 
tance I could at home.- . My mind ivas em- 
ployed during the residue of that week in med- 
itating on FsaiiA Uvii. d. ^ Glorious things 

36 pka&ob's memojes. 

are spoken of thee, O city of God ;'-— gnd tbe 
Bext Sabbath morning I spoke from thcrae 
words. On the promised increase of the church 
of God. I had observed that our monthly meet- 
ings for prajer had been better attended than 
the other prayer meetings, from the lime that I 
first knew the people in Cannon-street : but I 
thought a more general attention to them was 
desirable. I therefore preached on the Sab- 
bath-day evening preceding the next monthij 
prayer-meeting, irom Matt. vi. 10. *Thy 
tin&dom come ;' and urged with ardour and af- 
fection a universal union of the serious part of 
the congregation in this exercise. It rejoiced 
roe to see thr€^ times as many the next night as 
usual ; and for some time after that, f had 
nearly equal cause for joy. 

^^As to my own part, I continued to preach 
much upon the promises of God respecting the 
conversion of the heathen nations ; and by ao 
doing, and always communicating to my peo- 
ple every piece of information I could otKaiit 
respectint^ the present state of missions, thej 
soon imbibed the same spirit : and from that 
time to this they have discovered so much con- 
cern for the more extensive spread of the gos- 
pel, that at our monthly prayer-meetings, both 
stated and occasional, I should be as much sur- 
prised at the case of the heathen being omitted 
m any prayer, as ^t an omission of tbe name 
and merits of Jesus. 

*^ Indeed it has been a frequent mean of en* 
kindling my languid devotion, in my private^ 
domestic, and publick en^gements in prayer. 
"When I have been barren in petitioning tor my** 
s^i and other things, often have I been aweet* 

»B4&CX'8 KBX0EB9L 

1^ ealarged when I came to notice the sitiuir 
tioa of those who were perishisg for lack of 

** Thus I weat oa prayiDgy and preachings 
and Gonversinc on the sufaject, till uie time of 
brtober Carey^B ordination at Xjeicester, Maj 
94t 179U On the evening of that dajt he 
read to the ministers a great part of his OM&iif- 
ecripty since published ; entitled, Jin inquiry 
ifi/a the dtUgoHom of chrUtiana to uu fneamt 
far the conversion ^ the hutthme. This added 
fresh fuel to my zeal* But to pray and preach 
«& the sulgect, was all I could then think of 
doings But when I heard of a proposed meel* 
ing at Kettering, Oct £, 1792, tor the expresa 
pnrpose of conridering our duty in r^ard to 
the heathens, I could not resist mj incline* 
tion for goin^ ; althoudi at that time I was not 
nittch acquainted with the ministers of tho 
Northamptonshire association. There I go(b 
mj judgment informed, and mj heart increasr' 
ingly interested^ I returned home resolyed 
laj myself out in the cause. The publick 
atepa I have taken are too well known to need 
repeating ; but my mind became now^ i^filyy^ 
to go among the heathen myself. Yet a con- 
sideration w my connexiona with the dear. pe<i!» 
fie of God in Birmindham, restraimed fmy jdof^ 
aires, and ki^t me from naming my wishoa to 
any body, (as I remember) except to br^ar 
Carey. With him I waa j^retty free. We 
had an interesting cqavenuttion about it juat 
before he left Bttnqpje.. I shall neyer forget 
the moRfier of his Aayk^ MWellt you wiU come 
after us." My heart said, Amen! and my ea* 
gmiesafor the woik-inccaasedi' though I nev* 



er talked freely aboat it, except to ray wife» 
and we both then thought that my relation to 
the church in Cannon-street, and usefulnesa 
there, forbade any such an attempt HoweT- 
er, I have made it a constant matter of prayer^ 
often begging of God, as I did when first I 
was disposed for the work of the roinistryt 
either that he would take away the desire, or 
open a door for its fulfilment. And the result 
has uniformly been, that the more spiritual I 
have been in the frame of my mind, the more 
love I have felt for God $ and the more com-* 
munion I have enjoyed with him, so much the 
more disposed have I been to engage as a mis- 
sionary among the heathen. 

<* Until the accounts came of our breth- 
ren's entrance on the work in India, my con- 
nexions in Europe pretty nearly balanced my 
desire for going abroad | and though I felt 
quite devoted to the Lord's will and work, 
yet I thought the scale rather preponderated 
on the side of my abiding in my present situ- 

** But since our brethren's letters have in- 
formed us that there are such prospects of use- 
fulness in Hindostan^— that priests and people 
are ready to hear the word,— «nd that preach- 
erf^are a thousand times more wanted, .thaa 

Seople to .preach to, my heart has been more 
eeply affected than ever with their condition $ 
and my desires for a participation of the toila 
and pleasures, crosses and comforts of which 
they are the sulipects, are advanced to an anx- 
iety lyhich Q.othing can remove, and time seems 
to increase. 

<« It has pleased God also lately to teach m^ 
ll^oie thag ^veri that hxmsu?. i| the/otmroir) 

<tf ba^piness ;' that likeneds to him, friendship 
for him, and communion with him, fofm ihe 
basis of all >nie enjoyment ; and that this can 
be attained as well in an eastern jungle, among 
Hindoos and Moors, as in the most polished parti 
of Europe. The very disposition^ which, blessed 
l>e tny dear Redeemer! he has given me, to be 
any thing,' do aa^ thing, or endure any thing, so 
Aat his name might beglorifieil, — 1 say, the dia- 
position itself is heaven begun below. I do 
feel a* daily panting after more devotedness to 
his service, and I can never think of my suf- 
fering Lord, without dissolving into love ; love 
which constrains me to glorify him with my 
body and spirit, which are his. 

^* 1 do often represent to myself all the 
possible hardships of a mission, arising from 
my own heart, the nature of the country, do- 
mestic connexions, disappointment in my 
hopes, &c. &c. And then i set over against 
them, all, these two thoughts,—/ am God? 9 
servant^ and Gad is my friend. In this, I an- 
ticipate Wppiness in the midst of suffering, 
light in darkness, and life in death. Yea, I 
do not count my life dear nnto myself, so that 
I may win some poor heathens nnto Christ % 
and I am willing to be offered as a sacrifice on 
the service of the faith of the gospel • 

**Mr. Home justly observes, *thiat, in order 
to justify a man's undertaking the work of a 
missionary, he should be qualified for it, dis- 
posed heartily to enter upon it, and free from 
Buch ties as exclude an engagement.'— As to 
the first, others must judge for me ; but they 
must not be men who have an interest in kee^ 
ing me at home. I shall rejoice in opportuni^ 

ties of ftttainii0 to $a. acquaintance witik Mie. 
ideas of judiciom and mipartial men in ttu^ 
natter, and with then I must leave it. A wil* 
lingttesa to emhark in this cause Ido possess; and 
I can hardly persuade mjself that God has for 
ten Tears inehoed my heart to this work with- 
out having any thing for me to do in it ^Bui 
the third thing requires more cMMideratioii | 
lind here alone I hesitate.''*— Here he goea 
on to state all the objectioae from this quarter^- 
with his answers to them, leaving it with hia 
brelhren to decide when they had heard the 

The Committee, after the most serious a»di 
mature deliberation, though they were fully 
eatibfied as to brother Pearee's qualificatiott8«L 
and ^eatlv approved of his spirit, yel were 
iinammousiy of opnion thai ht might not ia 
go ; and that not merely on account of his 
connexions at home, which midit have beoi 
pleaded ia the case of brother Carey, but oa 
Recount of the ibisstoR itself, which required 
his assistance in the station whioh he already 

In this opinion, brother Carey himself^ 
with singular disiaterestediiess of miwl^ after- 
wards concurred ; and wrote to brother Pearcoi 
to the same effect.* 

' On receiving the opiinon of the Committee^ 
be immediately wrote to3lrs. P. as follows>^ 

Hy deu Sarah, J^fiartkampUm, Nov. 13, 1791. 

<^ i AM disapnointed, but not dismayed. I 
ever wish to make my Saviour's will my own. 
I am more satisfied than ever I expected I 
ehould be with a negative upon my earnest de^ 

* See Periodieal Aoconnto, Mo. V. p. 374. 

PEABOE's MElfOIRfl. 4]F 

sir^s, because the buBiiiess has been to cihi« 
ducted^ that, I think, (if by anj meant sack 
an is^ne could be ititured) the mind of Christ 
has been obtained My dear brethren here 
have treati'd the affair with as much serious- 
ness and affection as I could possibly desire^ 
and, 1 think, more than so insignificant ft 
worm could expect. After we had spent tho 
former part of this day in fasting anff prayer* 
with conversation on the subject, till near two 
o'clock, brother Potts, King, and 1 retired. 
IV e prayed while the Committee consulted* 
The case seemed difficult, and I suppose they 
were nearly two hours in deciding. At last^ 
time forced th^'m to a point ; and their answer 
I enclose for your satisfaction. Pray take care 
of it ; it will serve for me to refer to when my 
Blind may labour beneath a burden of guilt an- 
other day. 

1 am my dear Sarah's own S* P." 

.The decision of the Committee, though it 
rendered him much more reconciled to abide 
in his native country than he could have been 
without it ; yet did not in the least abate 
his zeal for the object* As he could not pro- 
mote it abroad, he seemed resolved to lay him- 
self out more for it at home. In March, 1795, 
after a dangerous illness, he says in a letter to 
Mr. Fuller — ^* Through mercy 1 am almost in 
a state of convalescence. May my spared life 
be wholly devoted to the service of my dear Re- 
deemer. I do not care where I am, whether 
in England or in India, so I am emplovei as 
he would have me ; but surely we need I0«;j^ 

D 2 


bwd that Gkni would send some more liel|p to 

Id January 9 1796, when he was first inforvi- 
od by the Secretarj^ of a young main (Mr» 
fountain) being desirous of going, of the char* 
ncter that was given of him % our friend Mrv 
Savage, of London, and of a Committee Meot> 
•lag Ming in contemplation, be wrote thus us 
answer—^* Your letter, just arrived, pat— 4 
was going to say^ another soul into my Ihtle 
bodv $ at least k has added new life to th« 
aonf I have. I cannot be contented with tbe 
ihott^t of being absent from your proposed 
ineeting. No, no ; I must be there, j[for my 
•wn sake I mean) and try to sing with yo% 
** O'er the gloomy hills of darkness.'^* 

In August, the same year, having received a 
letter from India, he wrote to Mr. Fuller aa 
follows— -^* Brother Carey speaks in such a 
manner of the eSeets of the gospel in his neigh* 
bourhood, as in my view promises a fair illus- 
tration of our Lord's parable, when he compar* 
•d the kingdom of heaven to a little leaven) 
kid in three measures of meaU which insinuat- 
ed itself so effectually as jto leaven the lump 
at last. Blessed be God, the leaven is alread j 
in the meal. The fermentation is begun ; and 
my hopes were never half so strong as they ara 
now, toat the whole shall be effectually leaven* 
od. O THAT I waas there to wrrNCSs thx 
DELIGHTFUL PBOOEss! But whithor am I run- 
aing ? • • . I Loao to wrtte tou trom hikdos-^ 

On receiving other letters from India, in 

*Th« 4128 Hymn ef Dr. Rippon's 8eleetioB| ffsqusatlj 
— at our Cmmittde mwuig^ 

FBABCPS'S lUBMaimt* 4& 


fmoMwff 1797, be thus writes >-<*Pef1iape 
Toll are now rejoicing in spirit with que over 
Kesb lAtelligence from Bengal. This moment 
have I eoDcIiided reading two letters from 
brother Thomas: one to the SocietTf and the 
ether to mjself.* He speaks of otliers froa 
brother Care^. I hope they are already ia 
your possession* If his correspondence baa 

Kduced the same effects on your heart as 
ther Thomas's has on mine, yon are filled 
with gladness and hope. I am grieved that I 
cannot convey them to you immediately. I 
lone to witness the pleasure their contents 
will impart to all whose hearts are with us. O 
that 1 were accounted worthy of the Lord te 
preach the gospel to the Booteas!" 

Being detained from one of our mission 
Meetings by preparing the Periodic^ Accounts 
for the press, he soon after wrote as follows >-» 
*^We snail now get out No. lY. very soon. I 
hope it will ^ to the press in a very few days. 
Did you notice, thst tne very day on which we 
invited all our friends to a day of prayer en be* 
half of the mission, (Dec 528, 1796) was the 
same in which brother Carey sent his best and 
most interesting accounts to the Society? I 
hope you had solemn and sweet seasons at 
Korthampton. On many accounts 1 should 
,luive reioiced ta have been with you : yet I am 
satisfied that on the whole I was doing best at 

It has been already observed, that for a 
month preceding the decision of the Commit- 
tee, he resolTi^ to devote one day in every 

]f 0. IV. p. S94, 301. ^ 

44' PEAttCEV MSBfOlRft.' 

week to secret prayer andfasting, and to keep s- 
(Hary of the exercises of his mind daring the 
whole of that period. This diary was not 
shown to the ' Committee at that time, but 
merely the preceding narrative. Since his 
death a few of them have perused it ; and 
have been almost ready to tnink, that if thef 
had seen it before, they dared not oppose 
bis going. But the Lord hath taken him to 
himself. It no longer remains a questioa 
now, whether he shall labour in England or ia 
India. A few passages, however, from this' 
tratiscript of his heart, white contemplating a 
great and disinterested undertaking, wilt lur* 
Bish*a better idea of his character than could 
be given by any other hand. 

<^Oct 8, 1794. Had some remarkable 
freedom and affection this morning, both in 
family and secret prayer. With many tears I 
dedicated myself, body and soul, to the ser*^ 
vice of Jesus ; and earnestly implored fall sat- 
isfaction respecting the path of duty.— I feel 
a growing deadness for all earthly comforts ; 
and derive my happiness immediately from. 
Goo himself. May I still endure, as Moses 
did, by seeing him who is invisible! 

"Oct. 10. Enjoyed much freedom to-day 
in the family. Whilst noticing in prayer the 
state of the millions of heathen who know not 
God, [ felt the aggregate value of their immor- 
tal'souls with peculiar energy. 

^^Afterwarcls was much struck whilst (on 
my knees before God in secret) I read the 
fourth chapter of Micah. The ninth verse I 
fancied very applicable to the church in Can- 
non-street : but what reason is there for such 

m cry ftbovt m iii^;iMAc«nt « worm at I astf 
The tkird chapter of Habakkttk too well ex- 
presses that /mixture of aok mni tfsad tit^emt 
with whieh I c ou templ ate the work of the rois- 

*<Whiltt at mj«r-»eetiitt to«4iigbt, I 
learned more of ttie meaning of some passaeetf 
of ecriptore than ever before. SuitaBle 
finunes of sonl are like good liebts, in which a 
painting appears to its fuU ac^antage. I had 
often medhated on Phil. iii. 7, 8, and Oal. vL 
14 : bat never /eft cmcififxton to the world, and 
disesteem for all that it contnins aa ait that 
time. All prospects of pecuniary iadapen* 
denee, and growing reputatiM, with wnidi 
in nnworthter momenta f had amnsed mjselff 
were now chased from my mind | and the de» 
oire of living whoihf to Christ (vwailowed op 
every other thought Frowns and smitest, fni- 
iiess or want^ honoor and reproach, were now 
equally indifferent % and when I concluded the 
Bieetiagt my whole soul felt, as it weire, ^ 
ing after the lost she^p of Christ among &e 

*« I de^ feel a grewing satisfaction in the pro- 
posal of spendine my whole life in something 
nobler than the locality of this island will ad- 
mit I long to raise my Master's banner in 
elimes where the sound of his fame hath bat 
scarcely reached. He hath said, for my en- 
coun^menti that d/ nations shall flow un- 
to it 

**The conduct and 'success of Staeh, Boon-* 
ish, and other Moravian missionaries in Green- 
land, both confound and stimulate me. O 
Lord» forgive my past indcdence in thy ftervice^ 

4§ ,' ^SARes's MBBCOlkS. 


and help me to redeem the re«diie of my daj9 
for exer^oQs more^vorthy a friend of mankindy 
and a servant of God. 

^^Oct 13. Being: taken up with visitord the 
former part of the day, I spent the after part 
in application to the Bengal laneuage^ and 
found the difficulties I apprehended vanish as 
fost as I encountered them. I read and pray- 
ed^ prayed and read, and made no small ad-. 
vances. Blessed be God! 

** Oct. 15. There are in Birmingham 50,0OQ 
inhabitants $ and exclusive of the vicinity, ten 
ministers who preach the fundamental truths 
of the gospel. *In Hindostan there are twice 
as many miUimis of inhabitants $ and not sa 
many gospel preachers. Now Jesus Christ 
hath commanded his ministers to go into all 
the world,' and preach- the gospel to every- 
creature. Why should we be so dispropor-. 
tionate in our labours P Peculiar circumstances- 
must not be urged against positive commands :. 
I am therefore bound, if others (lo not go, to^ 
make the means more proportionate to the mul- 

<*To*ni^ht, reading some letters from broth- 
er Carey, in which he speaks ot his wife's ill- 
ness when she first came into the country, I 
endeavoured to realize myself not only with a 
sick, but a dead wife. The thought was like, 
a cold dagffer to my heart at first ; but on re- 
collection 1 considered that the same God rul- 
ed in India as in Europe ; and that he could, 
either preserve her, or support me, as well 
there as here. My business is pnly to be' 
where he would have me. Other things I 
loave to him. Lordy though with timidity, 

ViEAllOlb's MEMOIRS* \7 

yet t hope not without satisfaction, I look ev- 
ery possible evil in the face, and saj^ * Thy 
>nll be done.' 

*^ Oct' ir. This is the first day I have set 
apart for extraordinary devotion in relation tf^ 
my present exercise of mind. Rose earlier 
than 'USuaU and began the day in prayer that 
Gtod woald be with me in every part of it^ and 
grant that the end I have in view may be clear- 
\^ ascertained-— the knowledge of his will. 

^* Considering the importance of the work 
before me, I began at the foundation of all re- 
ligion, and reviewed the groands on which I 
stood $ the beins of a God, the relation of man- 
kind to him, wiui the divine inspiration of the 
scriptures ; and the review afforded me great 
satisfaction.* I also compared the difi^rent 
religions which claimed divine origin, and 
found little difficulty in determining which 
had most internal evidence of its divinity. I 
attentively read, and seriously considered 
Doddridge'^ three excellent sermons on the 
evidences of the Christian religion, which was 
followed by such conviction, that I had hardly 
patience to conclude the book before I tell 
on my knees before God to bless him for such 
a religion, established on such a basis ; and I 
have received more %ol%d satisfaction this day 
upon the subject than ever 1 did before. 

* There is a wide difference between admitling these 
principles in theory, and making ust of tktm. David 
might have worn Saul's accoatrements at a parade : but 
in meeting Goliath he must go ibrth in an armour that 
had been tried. A mariner may sit in his cabin at his 
ease while the ship is in harbour : but. ere he bndertakee 
a voyage he must examine its soundness, and whether it 
^tili endttre the storms whivh way overtake hiia. 

48 f SAmos'a MibSiOza9» 

<* I also conridered, since the gespel is trnet 
since Cbmt is the head of the church, and Ua 
will is the law of all his followers, what are 
the obligations of his servants in respect of the 
enlargement of his kingdom. I here referred 
to our Lord's commission, which I could not 
but consider as universal in its ol^t, and 
, permanent in its ebli^tions* I read brotW 
Carej's remarks upon itr-«nd as the command 
has never been repealed ; as there are sullioatf 
of beings in the world on whom the command 
may be exercised ; as I can produce no conn* 
ter-revelation | and as I lie under no natural 
impossibilities of performing it, I concluded 
that I, as a servant of Christ, was bound hj 
this law. 

**I took the narrative of my experience, 
and statement of my views on the sufeaect in 
my hand, and bowing down before God, I 
eamestlj besought an impartial and an enli^« 
ened spirit I then perused that paper i and 
can now say* that I have (allowing for my own 
fallibility) not one doubt upon the subject I 
therefore resolved to close this solemn seasoa 
with reading a portion of both Testaments, 
add eaniest prayer to God for my family, mr 
people, the neathen world, the society, ana 
particularly for the success of our dear breth* 
ren Thomas and Garey^ and his blessing, 
presence, and ^race to be ever my guide and 
glory. Accordingly I read the 49th chapter 
of Isaiah ; and with what sweetness ! I never 
read a chapter in private with such feelings, 
iince I have beeli in the ministry. The 8, 9^ 
10, SO and dl vecaes I thought temarkaUj 



'^ Read also part of the epiatle to the Ephc- 
Aians, and the first chapter to the Philippians. 
O that for mc to live may be Shriat alone! 
jpiessed be my dear Saviour, in prayer I have 
had aiich fellowship with him, as would warm 
me in Greenland, comfort me in New Zea- 
land, and rejoice me in the talley of the shadow 
of death! 

^^ Oct. 18. I dreamed that I saw one of the 
christian Hindoos. O how 1 loved him! I 
long to realize my dream. How pleasant will 
it be to sit down at the Lord's taole with our 
black brethren, and hear Jesus preached in 
their language. Surely then will come to pass 
the saying that is written, ^ In Christ there is 
neither Jew nor Greek, Barbarian, Scythian, 
bond nor free, all are one in him.' 

«' Have been happy to-day in completing the 
manuscript of Periodical Accounts, No. I. 
Any thing relative to the salvation of the heath- 
en, brings a certain pleasure with it. I find I 
cannot pray, nor converse, nor read, nor 
study, nor preach with satisfaction, without 
reference to this subject. 

«*Oct. 20. Was a little discouraged on 
reading Mr. Zeigenbald*s conferences with the 
Malabarians, till I recollected, what ought to 
be ever present to my mind in brother Carey's 
words,— THe tiwf A t* (rotPa. 

*^ In the evening I found some little dilB- 
cuUy with the language ^ but considering how 
merchants^ and captains overcome this diffi- 
culty for the ^e of wealth, I sat eonfounded 
before the Lord that I should ever have indulg- 
ed s||ch a thought $ and looking up to him, 1 
$et about it wi& cheerfulAOjtft <Ad touAd thftt I 


was making a sensible advance* althoagh I caa 
never apply till 11 o'clock at night, on aceovat 
of my other duties.* 

«' Preached from 2 Kings, ir. 26. « It is 
well.' Was much enlarged both in thoaght 
and expression. Whilst speaking of the satis- 
faction enmed by a truly pious mind, when it 
feels itself in all circumstances and timea in 
the hand of a good God^ I felt, that were the 
universe destroyed, and I the only beii^ in it, 
beside God, he is fully adequate to mv com- 
plete happiness $ and had I been in an Aftican 
wood, surrounded with venomous serpents, de- 
vouring beasts, and savase men, in snch a 
frame, I should be the subject of perfect peace 
and exalted J9y* Yes, O my God, thou hast 
taught me that thou cione art worthy o( m j 
confidence ; and with this sentiment fixed in 
my heart, I am free from all solicitude about 
any temporal prospects or concerns. If thy 
presence be enjoyed, poverty shall be riches^ 
darkness light, affliction prosperity, reproach 
my honour, and fatigue my rest : ano thou 
hast said, * My presence shall go with thee.^ 

'^ Night studies, often continned till two or tbre* 
4>*elock in the moroing, it is to be feared, were the fiiit 
occasion of impairing Mr. Pearce*s health, and brought 
on that train oT nervous sensations with which he was 
afterwards afflicted. Thoush not much accustomed to 
converse on this subject, ne once acknowledged to a 
brother in the ministrv, that owing to his enervated 
state, he sometimes ereaded the approach of poblick 
services to snch a degree, that he would rather lyivCftub* 
mitted to stripes than engage in them ; and that whlls 
in the pulpit, he was frequently distroiMed with the ap^ 

pishfOAOB of ftUiag ovsr it 

SfMUgh, Lord, I ask for nothing, nothing 

'* But how sad the proofs of our depravitj ; 
and how insecure the best frames wc enjoy 1 
Rf^tnmine home, a wicked expression from a 
person who passed me caught mj ear, and oc- 
curred so often to my thonghts for some miH"^ 
Btes, as to brinj^ guilt upon my mind, and 
mrerwheim me with shame before God. But I 
appealed to God for my hatred of all such 
things, secretly confessed the sin of my heart, 
and again ventured to the mercy-Beat On 
snch occasions, how precious a Mediator is to 
the soul. 

*^Oct. S3. I did not for the former part of 
tiie day feel my wonted ardour for the work of 
s oiissionary ; but rather' an inclination tocon« 
suit flesh and blood, and look at the worst 
side of things. I did so $ but when on my* 
knees before God in prayer about it, I first 
considered that my judgment was still equally, 
satisfied, and m^ conscience so convinced, that 
I durst not relinqai^h the work for a thou- 
sand worlds. And then I thought that this 
dull frame had not been without its use ; as I 
was now fully convinced, that my desires to 
go did not arise from any fluctuation of incon- 
stant oflissions, but the settled convictions of 
^7 judgment. I therefore renewed my vows 
unto the Loid, that let what difficulties soever 
be in the way, I would (provided the society 
approved) surmount them all. I telt a kind of 
nnutterable satisfaction of mind, in my resolu- 
tion, of leaving the decision in the hands of niy^ 
brethren. May God rij^htly dispose their 
hearts! I have no doubt but he will 


«< Oct. £$. Have found a little time to ^ 
lAj to the Bengalee language. How pleaftaiit 
it IS to work Ibr God! Love transforms thorns 
to roses, and makes pain itself a pleasure. I 
never sat down to any study with such peci>« 
liar and continued satisfaction. The thought 
of exalting the Redeemer in this language^ !• 
a spur to my application paramount to everr 
discouragement for want of a living tutor. 1 
have passed this day with an abiding satisfac- 
tion respecting my present views. 

♦* Oct 24. O for the enlightening, enliven* 
ingf and sanctifying pretence of Grod to-day! 
It is the second of those days of extraordinary 
devotion which I have set apart for seeking 
God, in relation to the mission. How shaU I 
spend it F I will devote the morning to prayer* 
reading, and meditation ; and the afternoon to 
visiting the wretched, and relieving the needy. 
May God accept my services, guide me by hia 
counseU and employ me for his praise! 

<* Having besought the Lord that he would 
Bot suffer me to deceive myself in so impor- 
tant a natter as that which I had now retired 
to consider, and exercised some confidence that 
he would be the rewarderof those whodili^^ntly 
seek him, I read the 1 19th Psalm at the con- 
clusion of my prayer, and felt and wondered 
at the congruity of so many of the verses to the 
breathings of my own heart. Often, with ho- 
ly admiration, 1 paused, and read« and thought^ 
and prayed over the verse again, especially 
verses ^,31, 59, 60, 112, 145, 146. ^ Mf 
soul breaketh fot the longing that it hath unta 
thy judgments at ail times. 1 have stack nn* 


to iby tettimoaies i O Lord, put me dot to 

*^ Most of the morning I spent in serioUBlj 
reading Mr. Home's Leiters im Aii»$ian9f 
baving first bened of the Lord to make the 
perusal profitable to mj instmctton in the 
path of dntj. To the interro^tion, * Which 
of you will forsake ail, denj himself, take np 
his cross, and, if Ood pleases, die for his reh- 

8'on1' I replied spontaneously. Blessed be 
od, I am williogi Lord, help me tp accom* 
plish it! 

** Closed this season with reading the 6lst 
and 62nd chapters of Isaiah, and prayer for the 
church of God at large, my own congregation, 
the. headiens, the society, brethren Thomas 
and Carey, all missionaries whom God hath 
tent of every denomination, m^ own case, my 
wife and umily, and for assistance in my 

** The after part of this day has been gloomy 
indeed.* All the painful circumstances whicK 
can attend my aomg have met upon my heart, 
and formed a Toad almost insupportable. A 
number of things, which have been some time 
accumulating, luive united their pressure, and 
made me groan being 4>urdened. Whilst at a 
prayerrmeeting I looked round on my Chris- 
tian friends, and said to myself, A few months 
more, and probably I shall leave you all! But 
in the deepest of my gloom, I resolved though 
ftiot yet to pursue, not doubting but my Lord 
would give me strenatfar equal to the day. 

^* I had scarcely formed this resolution be- 
fore it occurred, My Lord and Master was a 

E S 

54 FSAEOB^t MfeMOIlUt* 

man of sorrowg. Oppreued^ and covared ivittl 
btood, he cried, *^ If it be possible, let tfaia 
cop pass from me*" Yet id the depth of his 
ago:)ie8, he added, ^^Thy will be do&e.'' This 
thought was to me what the sight of the cross 
was to BuDjan's pilgrim ^ I lost mj burden. 
Spent the remainaer ot the meetiog in sweet 
communion with God* 

*^ But on coming home, the sieht of Mrs. P. 
replaced my load* . She had for .some time 
been much discouraged at the thoughts of go* 
ins. I therefore felt reluctsnt to say anj 
thing on this sufagect, thinking it would be an* 
pleasant to her : but though i strove to conceat 
It, an involuntary sigh betrayed my uncasi* 
ness' She kindly inquirjed the cause. I 
avoide<l at first an explanation, till she,, guess*- 
ine the reason, said to this effect^— * I hope ymr 
wUl be no more uneasy on my account* Fsr 
the last two or three days, I have been more 
comfortable than ever in tlie thought of going. 
I have considered the steps you are pursmng; 
to know the mind of God, and 1 think yon 
cannot take more proper ones. When yon 
consult the ministers, you should represent 
your obstacles as strongly as your indues 
ments $ and then, if they advise your goings 
though the parting from my friends will be lu* 
most insupportable, yet I will' make aiyself at 
bappy as I can, and God can make ma ha|^y 
any where*' 

<' Should this little Diary fail into the handa 
of a man having the soul of a missionary, cir>- 
cuknstanced as I am, he will be the only man 
capable of sharing my peace, my joy, my grati- 
tadci my rapture oi aouL Thus at evening- 


4ade it is liglit I thus Gred bringg his- people 
"throfugh fife and through water iuto a wealthy 
^ace$ tiMis those who ask do receive* and 
^eir joy is full. O love the Lord<» ye his 
^ats : the^e is no want to them that fear him! 

^^Oct* S6. Had much enlargemeDt this 
morniBft, whilst speaking on the nature, extent 
mnd influence of divine love ; what designs it 
larmed-»<-with what energy it acted — with what 
peraev^rance it pMrsuedits object — what ob- 
stacles it Burmouated-^what difficulties it con- 
^«iered«-*and what sweetness it imparted un- 
der (he beaviest loads, and severest trial si 
Almost through the day I ei^oyed a very de- 
wrable frame, and on coming home, my wife 
«Bd I had aome conversation on the aubject of 
my goings • She said, though in general the 
thought wae painlul, yet there were some sea- 
sons when she had no preference, but felt her- 
jrelf disposed to go or stay, as the Lord should 

** This day wrote to brother Fuller, briefly 
stating ny desires, requesting his advice, anci 
prspoaitig a meeting ot the Committee on the 
OMttiess. 1 feel great satisfaction arisipg 
IrMH my leaving the matter to the determioa- 
tMm ^ my honoured brethieUf and to God 
Ihreugh them* 

*^Qct S7. To^ay I sent a packet to our 
fcrethrca in India. I could not forbear tellii^ 
brother Carey all mj feeling views, and ex- 
pectations : out without saving I should be ea- 
tirely ^vemed by the opinion of the society. 

.<^Oot SB. Still panting to preach Jecnis 
smdng my lellew sinners to whom he is yet 
nnJoiown. Wrot« to Dn Bogers, of Phik- 

5% ysAMos's MSMoimSk 

delpbia, to-daj, upon A« sabject, niflilVeef^ 
dom and wmnnth, and inqaired whether, whilst 
the people of the United States were fermiiig 
societies to encovrage arts, liberty, and enri* 
gration, there coo Id not a few be found among 
them who would form a society for the trans- 
mission of the word of life to the benichted 
heathens $ or in case that conld not be, wmielli* 
er they might not strengthen our hands in Bir> 
n>pe, by some benevolent proofs of concnrrini; 
with Ub in a design, which they speak of wita 
such approbation P With this 1 sent Home'a 
Letters. I will follow both with my prayer% 
and who can tell T 

*^ Oct 29. Lo<iked over the Code of Hindo# 
Laws to^y. How much is there to admire 
in it, founded on the principles of justices 
The most salutary regulations are adopted ift 
many circumstances. But what a pity that wm 
much eicellence should be abased bylaws t^ 
establish or countenance idolatry, ma^ic^ pitNH 
tittttion« prayers for the dead, false-witnessing, 
theft and snieide. How perfect is the morafii- 
ty of the gospel of Jesus $ and how desirable 
that they should embrace lit Ought not means 
to be used ? Can we assist them too soon>? 
There is reason to think that their Shasteva 
were penned about the beginniM of the fiol- 
lee Jogne, which most be soon after the del- 
uge : and are not 400Q years long enon^ for 
100^ millions of men to be under Sie empire of 
the devil? 

^^ Oct. 51. I am encouraged to enter up«i 
this day (which I set apart for supplicating 
God) by a recollection of his promises to those 
who seek bio. If the sacred word be(rae».. 

PBAftim's M«M<yimt# if 

Ibe serramfs of 0«d cadi mvvr Mek Ms faoeia 
vain ; and as I am cenacnivs 6# mj aiiiceritjr 
&?id earnest desire only to know his pleaaui^4 
that I mar perforin it, t find a decree of coot* 
dence thalt I ^hall realize the fulfifmeiit of tha- 
urord on nvhich he causeth me to hope. 

** Began the day with solemn prayer far the 
assistance of the Holy Spirit in my present ex« 
ercise, that so I mieht efijoy the spirit and 
|K>wer of prayer, and have my personal reli* 

Sion improved, as well as my publick steps 
irected. In this doty I found a little quick<^ 

*»i then read over the narrative of my ex- 
perience, atid my joornaL I find my views 
are still the same $ bat n^y heart is much more 
^tablished than w4ien I fiegan to write* 

*^ Was mach struck in reading Paul's wiirda 
in £ Cor. i. If, when after speaking of hia 
purpose to travel fiir the preaching of the gos- 
pel, he saith, * Did I then Use lifrhtness when t 
was thus minded? Or the things that I purpose* 
do I purpose according to the flesh, that with me ' 
there sliould be yea, yea— nay, nay V Thepiiiff 
0f the apf>stle in not parposing after the flei^, the 
serioitmess of spirit with which he fanned his 
/designs, and hid steadfast adherence to them, 
^ere in my view worthy of tlie highest admiim* 
tion and strictest imitation. 

** Thinking that I might get some assistance 
from David Brainerd's experience, I read his 
life to the time of his being appointed a mis- 
sionary among the Indians. The exalted devo- 
tion of that dear man almost made me question 
mine. Yet at some seasons he speaks of sink- 
ing aa well as rising. His singalar piety ex- 

51 FAiKo&'a iiSM^iasr 

eepted. Us - fceltngty praycis, demmih emu* 
forts, hopes, and sorrows, are my own $ and if 
I cottid tollow bim in nothing else, I knew I 
had been enabled to say this withhioi, * I feel 
Cfxceedingly calm, and quite resigned to God re- 
jBpecting my fqture improyement (or statioa) 
when and where he pleased. My faith lifted 
me above the world, and removed all those 
mountains, which I could not look over of late* 
I thought I wanted not the favour of man to 
lean upon ; for I knew Qod's favour was infi* 
nitely oetter, and that it was no matter where 
or when or how Christ should send me, nor 
with what trials he should still exercise me, if 
I miffht be pre|>ared for his work and will.' 

** Read the ii. iii. iv. v. and vL chapters of 
the- second espistle to the Corinthians. Felt 
a kind of placidity, but not much joy. On be- 
ginning the concluding prayer, I had no 
strengSi to wrestle, nor power with God at all* 
I. seemed as one desolate and forsaken. I 
prayed for myself, the society, the missiona- 
ries, the converted Hindoos, the church in 
Cannon-street, my femiiy, and ministry ; but 
yet all was dulness, and I feared I had offend- 
ed the Lord. I felt but little zeal for the mis- 
flion, and was about to conclude with a lamen- 
tation over the hardness of mj heart $ whdo of 
a sudden it pleased God to smite the rock 
with the rod of his Spint, and immediately the 
waterti beg^n to flow. O what a heavenly^ 
glorious^ roeltii^ power was it! My eyes, al'* 
most closed with weeping, hardly sufier me to 
write. I feel it over a^ain. what a view 
of the love of a crucifiecf Redeemer did I en- 
joy! the attractions of his cross, how pow;erftt.U 

I* was as a giant refreshed with new win^, as 
to mj animation ; like Mary at the Master's 
feet weeping, for tenderness of soul ; like a 
little child, for snbinission to my hearetily 
Father's will ; and like Paul, for a victory 
over all self-love, and creature-love, and fear 
of man, when these things stand in the way of 
my diity. The interest that Christ took in the 
redf^mption of the heathen, the situation of our 
brethren in Bengal, the worth of the soul, and 
the plain command of Jesus Christ, together 
with an irresistible drawing of soul, which by 
far exceeded any thing I ever felt before, and 
is impossible'to be described to, or conceived 
of by those who have never experienced it ; all 
compelled me to vow that I would, by his 
leave, serve him among the heathen. The Bi- 
ble lying open before me (upon my knees) many 
passages caught my eye and confirmed the 
purposes of my heart. If ever in my life i 
Knew any thing of the influences of the Holy 
Spirit, I did at this time. I was swallowed 
up in God. Hunger, fulness, cold, heat, 
fnends, and enemies, all seemed nothing be- 
fore God. I was in a new world. All was 
delightful ; for Christ was all, and in all.' 
Many times I concluded prayer, but when 
rising from my knees, communion with God 
was so desirable, that I was sweetly drawn to 
it again and again, till my animal strength was 
almost exhausted. Then I thought it would be 
pleasure to bum for God.- 

«« And now while I write, such a heavenly 
sweetness fills my soul, that no exterior cir- 
cumstances can remove it | and I do uniformly 
Ut\, thai^e inoro I an tbttSy tto aore I pant 

^ tbe tenr ieie of my bteised J«stt8 among tbe 
beathon. YeSi mj dear, my dying Lord, I 
am tbine« tby servant; and if i neglect the 
service of ao good a Master, I maj wdi expect 
a guilty conscience in life, and a death awful 
as tliat of Jndas or of Spira! 

^^This evening I had a meeting with my 
friends. Returned much dejected. Review* 
ed a letter from brother Fuller, which, though 
he says be has many objections to my goingi 
yet is so affectionately expressed as to yield me 
a erdtification. 

ISoY* S. This evening received a letter from 
brother Ryland, containing many objections : 
but contradiction itself is pleasant when it is 
the voice of judgment mii^led with affection* 
I wish to remember that / may be misiaken, 
though I cannot say I am at present convinced 
that it is so. I am happy to find that brother 
Ryland approves of my referring it to the Com* 
mittee. I have much confidence in the judg- 
ment of my brethren, aud hope I shall be per- 
fectly satisfied with their advice. I do thinky 
however, if they knew how earnestly I nant 
for the work, it would be impossible for tnem 
to withhold their ready aG<)uiescence. ^O 
liord, thou knowest my smcerity, and that if I 
go not to the work it will not be owing to anj 
reluctance on my part! If I stay in Englan<{, 
I fear I shall be a poor useless drone ; or if a 
sense of duty prompt me to activity, I doubt 
whether I shall ever know inward peace and 
joy again. l4ord, I amt thou knowest I am, 
appre99^^ undertake for mei 

^^ Nov. 5« At times to<day I have been re* 
i:oaciled to the thoua^t of at^ing if any breth* 

ita AmM BO advise i b^t at other timefl I 
seem to thiak I could not I look at llrother 
Garej's portrait as it hangs in my study* I 
love him in the bomrels of Jesao Uhristf and 
long to join his labours ; every look calls up 
a hundred thoaeht^ all of which inflame my 
desire to be a fellow-labourer with him in the 
wmrk of the Lord. One thing, however, I am 
resolved upon, that, the Lord keeping me, if I 
cannot go abroad, I will do all I can to servo 
the mission at home. 

** Nov. 7. This is the last daj of peculiar 
devotion before the deciding meeting. May I 
have strength to wrestle with God to-day for 
his wisdom to preside in the Committee, and 
by faith to leave the issue to their determina* 

*^I did not enjoy much enlargement in pray* 
er toKlay. My mind seems at present incapa- 
ble of those sensations of joy with which I have 
lately been much indulged, through its strug- 
glings in relation to my going or staying : yet 
1 have been enabled to commit the issue into 
the hands of God, as he may direct my breth- 
ren, hoping that their advice will be agreeable 
to his will." 

The result of the Committee Meeting has 
already been related ; together with the state 
of his mind^ as far as could be collected trom^ 
bis letters, for some time after it. The termi- 
nation of these tender and interesting exer- 
cises, and of all his other labours, in so speedy 
a removal from the present scene of actiont 
nay teach us not to draw any certain conclu* 
lion as to the designs of God concerniog our^ 

62 rSABOB'S MSMOlftt. 

ftttvre labours, from the ardour or stBcorify of 
our feiAingd. He maj take it well that <* it 
was in our hearts to buiM htm an house^'' 
thouj^ he should for wise reasons have deter- 
mined not to gratify us. Suffice it, that in 
matters of everiasHng moment he has engaced 
to *^ perfect that which concerns us." In Uiia 
he hath condescended to bind himself, as bj an 
oath, for our consolation ; here therefore we 
ma J safelj consider our spiritual desires as 
indicative of his designs : 'but it is otherwise 
in various instances with regard to present 


IRg exercises and labours^ from the time of his 
giving up the idea of going abroad^ to the 
commencement of his last affliction. 

Had the multiplied labours of this excellent 
man permitted his keeping a regular diary, we 
maj see bjr the foregoing specimen of a single 
month, what a rich store of truly Christian ex- 
perience would have pervaded these Memoirs*^ 
We should then have been better able to trace 
the gradual openings of his holy mind, and the 
springs of that extraordinary unction of spirit^ 
and energy of action, by which his life was 
distinguished. As it is, we can only collect a 
few gleanings, partly from memory, and part- 
ly from letters communicated by his friends. 

This chapter will include a period of about 

four yoftrsi dunng which ho went twice to Im^- 

-in to cM&ct for the BapiUi miinofi, and once 
be Tisited DuUin, at the iovitation of the 
EvangtHad Society in that city. 

There appears tiirougbout the general tenor 
of his life, a singular suhtnissiveness to the 
will of God| and what is worthy of notice, this 
disposition was generally most conspicuous 
when his own will was most counteracted* 
The jastness of this remark is sufficiently ap- 
parent from his letter to Mrs. Pearce* of Nov. 
IS, 1794,* after the decision of the Commits 
tee $ and the same spirit was carried into the 
conkmon concerns of life. Thus, about a 
month afterwards, when his dear Louisa was 
ill of a fever, he thus writes from Northampton 
to Mrs. Pearce >^ 

My dear Sarah, Deeembar 13, 1794. 

*^ I am just brought on the' wings of celes- 
tial mercy safe to my Sabbath's station. I 
am well; and my dear friends here seem 
healthy and happy : but I feel for you. I long 
to know how our dear I^uiaa's pulse beats : I 
fi-ar still feverish. We must not, however, 
aniTer ourselves to be infected with a men- 
tal fever on this account Is she ill ? It is 
right Is she very ill ?.— -dying ? It still is 
right Is she gone to join the heavenly choris- 
ters ? It is all ri^ht, notwithstanding our re- 
pinings-— — Repinings! no; we will not re- 
pine. It is best we should go. It is best 
for Aer. This we must allow* It is best for 
ua. Do we expect it ? O what poor, ungrate- 
ful, short-sii^ted worms are we.^ Let us sub- 

'Baa paga 40. 

fnit, my Sanli^ ^1 we cdmetolieateii : if weil« 
Tiot thm see tliat it is best, let us then comfriaiok 
But whj do I attempt to consote i Peri»||ls 
an indalgeat Providence ^as ere now dissi- 
pated jour fears : or if that same kind JProti- 
dence has removed our baibe, you have consola- 
tion enough in him who suffin'ed more than 
wiB ; and more than enough to i^uiet M o«r 
]ias9ions9 in that astonishing osnsideralioay— 
* God 80 loved the world, that he spared noi 
his own Son.' Did God cheerinlly give dfe 
iM>ly ciiild Jesus for us P and ahail we reftme 
our child to him! He gave his 8on toni^r; 
he takes or children to enjoys Yes, to enjoj 

Yours, with the tenderest regard^ S» P.^' 

In June, 1795, he attended the Association 
at Kettering, , partly on account of some mis- 
sionary business there to be transacted. That 
;WaB a season of great joy to many, especially 
the last rforenocm previous to parting. From 
thence he wrote to Mrs. Peaixe as follows :— *• 
' ♦* From a pew in the house of Ood at Ket- 
termg, with my cup of joy running over, I ad^ 
dresH you by the hand of brother Simmons* 
Had it pleased Divine Providence to have per- 
mitted your accompanying me^ my pleasures 
would have received no small addition ; be- 
cause I should have hoped that you would 
have been filled with similar consolation, and 
have received equal edification by the preciiins 
means of grace on which I have attended* In«> 
deed, I never remember to have enjoyed a 
publick meeting to such a high degree since I 

fbarcb's memoirs. 65 

have been in the habit of attending upon them. 
Oh that I may return to you, and the dear 
church of God, in the fulness of the blessing of 
the gospel of Christ ! I hope, mj beloved, that 
you are not without the enjoyment of the 
sweetness and the supports of the bfessed gos- 
pel. Oil that joii may get and keep near 
to Grod, and in him find infiniteij more than 
you can possibly lose by your husband's ab- 

*«Mr. Hall preached, last evening, from 
1 Pet. i. 8. A most evangelical and experi* 
mental season I I was charmed and warmed. 
Oh that Jesus may go on to reveal himself to 
him as altogether lovely! I am unable to write 
more now. To-day I set off for Northampton, 
and preaciii there to-night* The Lord bless 

In July) 1795, he received a pressing invita- 
tion from The General Evangdical Society in 
Dublin, to pay them a visit, and to assist in 
diffusing the go&pel of the grace of God in 
that kinsdom. To this invitation he replied 
in the following letter, addressed to Dr. Mc. 
Dowal :— 

, BiffMnghamy August 3, 1795. 
Rev. and dear Sir, 

**I received your favour of the 22d ult. and 
for the interesting reason you assign, transmit 
a ^speedy answer.' The Society, on whose 
behalf you wrote^ I have ever considered with, 
the respect due to the real friends of the best 
of Clauses— -the cause of God and of his Christ : 
a cause which embraces the most important 

F2 ' 

£10 PJUROe'& IflCMOiRA* 

and durable interests of our fellow men z and, 
Your name, dear sir, I have been taught te 
nold in more than common esteem bj my dear 
brother and father^ Messrs. Birt and Francis* 
The benevolent institution which jou are en- 
gaged in supportiBg, I am persuaded deserve^ 
more than tne good wishes or prayers of jour 
brethren in the kingdom and patience of JesuSy 
on this side the channel ; and it will jield me 
substantial pleasure to afford personal assis- 
tance in your pious labours, fiat, for the 
present, I am sorry to say, I must decline 
your proposal : being engaged to spend a month 
in London this autumn, on the business of oar 
Mission Society^ of which you have probably 
heard. - 

^^When I formed my present connexions 
with the church in Birmingham, I proposed an 
annual freedom for six weeks from my pastoral 
duties ^ and should the * Evangelical Society' 
express a wish for iny services the ensuing 
year, I am perfectly inclined, God willing, to 
spend that time beneath their direction, and at 
what part of the year they conceive a vhit 
would be most serviceable to the good design. 
I only request, that should this be their desire, 
I may receive the information as soon as they 
can conveniently decide, that I may withhold 
myself from other engagements, which may in- 
terfere with the time they maj[ appoint. I en- 
treat you to make my Christian respects ac- 
ceptable to the gentlemen who compose the so- 
ciety, and assure yourself that I am, dear sir, 
respectfully and affectionately. 

Your brother in our Iiord Je^us, S« P." 


The invitation was repeated, and he com^ 
plied with their request, engaging , to go over' 
lu the month of June^ 1796. 

A little before tbis journej^ it occurred to 
Dr. Ryland, Ibat an itinerating misMOO into 
Cornwall mi^ht be of use to the cause of true 
religion* and that two acceptable ministers 
might be induced to undertake it | and that if 
executed during the vacation at the Bristol 
Academy, two of the students might supply 
their place. He commanicated his thougnts 
to Mn Pearcet who wrote thus in answer 

May 30, 1796. 
My very dear Brother, 

^< I thank you a thousand times for your last 
letter. Blessed be God, v/ho hath put it into 
jour heart to propose such a plan for increasing 
the boundaries otZion.' I have read your let- 
ter to our wisest friends here, and they heard 
it with great joy. The plan, the place, the 
mode, the persons — all, w meet our most af- 
fectionate wishes. How did such a scheme 
never enter our minds before! Alas, we have 
notiang in our hearts that is worth having, 
save what God puts there. Do write to me 
when at Dublin, and tell me whether it he re- 
solved on ; when they set out, &c. I hope 
ere long to hear, that as many disciples are 
employed in Great Britain, as the Saviour 
employed in Judea. When he gives the 
word, great will be the company of the preach- 

^* Oh, my dear brother, let us go on still 
]>raying, contriving, labouring, defending, un- 
til * the little leaven leavenetn the whole lump^ 

&8 vsakok's memoirs. 

and the small stone from the moantain fill the 
vhole earth.* 

^* What pleasares do those lose who have no 
interest in God's sracioas and holy caa«el 
How thankful shuQict we be, that we are not 
strangers to the joy which the friends of Zion 
feel when the Lord turneth again Zion's cap- 
tivity. I am« beyond expression. 

Your affectionate brother in Christ, S. P." 

On May 3t, he set off for Dublin, and ^« the 
Lord prospered his way* so that he arrived at 
the time appointed ; and from every accoant 
it appearsr that he was not only sent in the 
fulness of the blessing of the goq)el of peaee^ 
but that the Lord himself went with him. His 
preaching was not only highly acceptable to 
every class of hearers, but the word came 
from him with power, and there is abundaat 
reason to believe, that many will, through 
eternity, praise God for sending his message to 
them by this dear ambassador of Christ His 
memory lives in their hearts, and they join 
vith the other churches of Christ in deploring 
the loss they have sustained by his death. 

'^^He was earnestly solicited by the Bvan- 

feHcal Society to renew his visit to that king- 
oro in 1798. Ready to embrace every call of 
duty, he had signified his compliance ; and thfe 
time was fixed : but the breaking out of the 
late rebellion prevented him from realizing hia 
intention. This was a painful disappointment 
to many, who wished once more to see his 
face, and to have heard the glad tidiogi from 
■ lips.'' 

Sseli IS the britf accMnt «f htt ritit to Dub- 
Un, given bj Or. Mc Dowal. The following 
letter wis written to Mra« Pearce, when He 
had been there a little more than a week :-«- 

DMimt Jum 31, 1996. 

^* I lonK to know how you do, and you w8I 
be as much concerned to knew how I go on at 
this distance from yom. I haste to satisfy yoitr 
inquiries. \ 

^^ I am in perfect healdi : am delightfally 
disappointed with the place, and its inhab- 
itants. I am very thankful that I came over. 
I have found much more religion here already 
than I expected to meet with during the whole 
of my stay. The prospect of usefulness is 
flattering. I have already many more friends 
(f hope Ckristian frtends) than I can gratify 
by visits. Many doors are open for preaching 
me gospel in the city $ and my country excur- 
Hions will probably be few. Thus much fur 

<^ But yott will like to know how I spend 
iny time, &c. Well then : I am at the house 
01 Mr. H— — ^, late High-Sberiflf for the city : 
a gentleman of opulence, respectability, and 
evangelical piety. He is by profession a Cal- 
^niatic 'Presbyterian ; an elder of Dr. Mo. 
Dowal's church ; has a most amiable wife, and 
four children. I am very tbankfol for being 
placed here during my stay. I am c]uite at 
home, I mean as to ease and familiarity ; for 
as to style of living, I neither do, nor desire to 
equal it Yet in frty present situation it is 
^onrenient It would, however, be sickening 
and dully bad I notaGosi t6 go to, to converse 


wMi, to eirioT, and to call n^ €wn. Ob, 'tis 
tfaii, HU tnu, my deareat Saiab, which grwn 
a point to every enjoyment, and sweetens all 
the cop of life. 

*< Tne Lord's day after I wrote to you Iast» 
I preached for Dr. Me. Dowai in the morning at 
half past eleven ; heard a Mr. Rilbnme at five ; 
and preached again at Plunket-street at seyen. 
On Toesday evening I preached at an hospitalt 
and on Thursday evenine at Planket-street 
again. Yesterday, for th^ Baptists in the 
BBomii^, Dr. Mc. Dowal at five, and at Pliinket- 
■treet at seven* 

<* The hours of worship will appear singnlar 
to you : they depend on the usual meat times. 
Vf'e breakfast at ten i dine between four and 
five, sometimes between five and six $ take tea 
from seven to nine | and sop from ten to^ 
twelve. • 

^^ I thank God that I possess an abidinr de» 
termination to aim at tne conseieneea of the 
people in every discourse. ,1 have borne the 
most positive testimony against the prevailing 
evils of professors here :-his, sensuality, gaiety, 
▼ain amusements, neglect of the Sabbath, &o* 
and last night* told an immense crowd of profes- 
sors of the first rank, < that if they made cnstosa 
and fashion their plea, they were awfully de- 
luding their .souls $ for it bad always been tbe 
fashion to insult God, to dissipate time, and te 

{mrsue the broad road to hell ; but it would net 
essen their torments there, that the way to 
damnation was the fashion.' 

^^ I expected my faithfulness would have giv- 
en them ofience ; but I am persuaded it was the 
way to please the liOrd, and those wl^om I 9%'^ 

peeted trotfld be enemies, are not only at peace 
with me, bat even renoance their sensual induU 
gencies to attead on mj mintstrj. I do assur* 
edly believe that God hath sent me hither for 
pood. The five o'clock' meetings are misera- 
blj attended in ||;eneral* In a house that will 
hold 1,500, or ^000 people, you Will hardij 
see above fifty ! Yesterday mornine I preach- 
ed on the su^ect of public wonhip^ from Psalns 
v. 7, and seriously warned them against pre- 
ferring their bellies to God, and their owa 
houses to his. I was delighted and surprised^ 
at the five o'clock meeting to see the place 
nearly full. Surely this is the Lord's doing, 
and it is marvellous in my eyes. Never, nev- 
er did I more feel how weak I ani in myself,^-* 
a mere nothing $ and how strong I am in the 
omnipotence S[ God. I feel a superiority to 
all fear, and possetis a conscious dignity in be- 
ing the ambassador of God. Oh help me to 
praise, for it is he alone who teacheth my hands 
to war, and my fingers to fight : and still pray 
for me ; for if he withdraw for a moment, I 
become as weak and unprofitable as the briars 
of the wilderness. 

**Yoo cannot think how much I am support- 
ed by the assurance that I have left a praying 
people at Birmingham ; and I believe, that in 
answer to their prayers I have hitherto been 
wonderfully assisted in m? publick work, as 
well as enjoyed much in private devotion. 

** I have formed a most pleasing acquaint- 
ance with several serious young men id the 
University here, and with two of the fellows 
of the College ; most pious gentlemen indteed, 
who ^ have und^isone a world of reprosob foi| 

diriat gad bis gospel^ and katc been fbrbidiieK 
to preach in the cfiurcbesbj the Archbidhop $ 
but God has raised another house for them bere^ 
where they preach with much successy and 
have begun a meeting in the CoUege, wlucb 
promises fresh prosperity to the cause of Je- 

The following particulars, in addition to the 
above, are taken partly from some notes in hia 
own hand writing, and partly from the account 
given by his friend, Mr. Summers, who accom-* 
panied aim during the latter part of his visits. 

At his first arrival, the congregations were 
but thinly attended, and the Baptist congrega- 
tion in particular, amongst whom he delivered 
several discourses. It much affected him to 
see the whole city given to sensuality and world- 
ly conformity ; and especially to find those of 
his own denomination amongst the lowest, and 
least affected with their condition. But the 
longer he continued, the more the oongregations 
increased, and every opportunity became in- 
creasing) v interebting, both to him and them. 
His faithful remonstrances^ and earnest recom- 
mend options of prater meetings to his Baptist 
friends, though at first apparently ill received, 
y^ere well t: ken in the end ; and he had the 
Jiappiness to see in tl.em some hopeful appear- 
ances ot a return to God . On June the ^Otb 
he wrote to his tricud, Mr. Summers, us fol- 
lows :— 

If y dear Friead, 

** It you mean to abide by mj opinion, I say, 
cone to UuUiifti and come directly 1 I have 

^earce's memoirs. ^$ 

l|fieii most delightfttllj disappointed* I expect- 
ed darkness, and behold light ; sorrow, and 
I have had cause for abundant joy. I thank 
God that I came hither, and hope that manj 
as well as myself, will have cause to praise 
him. Never have I been more deeply taught 
my own nothingness ; never hath the power of 
God more evidently rested upon me. The har- 
vest here is great indeed $ and the Lord qf^the 
harvest hath enabled me to labour in it with de- 

< I praise him for all that is past, 
I trust him for all that^s to come.* ' 

<< The Lord hath of late been doing great 
thines for Dublin. Several of the voung mea 
in the college have been awakened ; and two 
of the fellows are sweet evangelical preachers. 
One of them is of a spirit serene as the sum- 
mer evening, and sweet as the breath of May. 
I am already intimate with them, and have 
spent several mornings in college with various 
students, who bid fair to be faithful watchmei^ 
on Jerusalem's walls. But I hope you will 
come ; and then you will see for yourself. If 
not, I will give you some pleasant details whea 
lye meet in England* 

S. P.» 

Mr Summers complied with this invitation | 
and of the last seven or eight days of Mr. 
Pearce's continuance at Duolin, he himself 
thus writes :— • 

*^ Monday* July 4. At three in the after- 
noon I went with my friend* Mr. Summers, to 
Mr. K.^-— 's. Spent a very agreeable day. 
Miss A^ K— *- remarked two wonders in JDab^ 


T4 P^AROE's tfStfOIRS.* 

lin : a prayioff societ j, composed of students 
at college, and anothec of lawyers. iTbe fami- 
ly were called together. We sung : I readf 
and expounded the xii. of Isaiah, and prayed. 
At seven we went to a prayer-meetins at 
Plunket-street : very large attendance. Mr. 
B and Mr. S prayedt and I spoke 
ifrom Rom. x. !£» 13. * There is no difference 
between the Jew and the Greek ; for the same 
Lord over all is rich unto all who call upon 
him. For whosoever shall call upon the name 
of the Lord, shall be saved.' — ^Many seemed 
affected. After I had closed the opportunity, 
I told them some of my own experience, and 
requested, that if any present wished for cqH'' 
▼ersation, they would come to me, either that 
evening, or on Thursdajr evening in the vestry* 
Five persons came in :>— -one had been long im- 
pressed with religion, but could never summons 
courage enough to open her heart before. An- 
other, a Miss W ^ attributed her first im- 
pression, under God, to my ministry; and 
told me that her father had regularly attended 
of late, and that her mother was so much 
alarmed as to be almost in despair. Poor 
girl! she seemed truly in earnest about her 
own soul, and as much concerned for her pa- 
rents. The next had possessed a serious con- 
cern for some time, and of late had been much 
revived. One young lady, a Miss H— , staid 
in the meeting-house, exceedingly affected 
indeed. Mr. K— — - spoke to her — She said» 
•he would speak with me on Thursday. 

<^ Tuesday, dth. Went to Leislip. At 
aeven— ^preached to a large and affected audi- 

«* Wednesday, 6tii. Mr. H— — atid myself 

"went ,to Mrs. Mc 6 , to inquire about 

the young lady who was so much affected at 
the meeting. Mrs. Mc G said, her moth- 
er and sister were pious ; that she had been 
Ter^ giddy $ but that last Lord's day she was 
seriously awakened to a sense of sin ; had 
expressed her delight in religion, and fled for 
renige to the blood of Jesus. — Her sister was 
introduced to me ; a sweetly pious lady. I 
agreed to wait for an interview with the young 
lady at Mr. H ^'s, in Eccles^treet to^nov* 


" Thursday 7th. Miss H ■ ■ » her sister, 
and Mrs. Mc G— — , came to Eccles-street*— 
A most delightful interview. Seldom have I 
seen such proficiency in so short a time.—* 
That day week, at Plunket-street, she receiv- 
ed her nrst serious impressions. Her concern 
deepened at Mass Lane, on Lord's-day morn- 
ing—more so in the evening at Plunket-street 
—•but most of all on Monday night.— I exhort- 
ed them to begin a prayer and experience 
meeting ; and they agreed. Blessed be God! 
Ais strengdiens my hands greatly.— At seven 
o'clock, preached at Plunket-street^ from Jer* 
L 4, 5. * Going and weepinj^they shall 
ask the way to Zion with their faces thith- 
erward.' — A full house $ and an impressive 
season. Tarried after the publick services 
were ended, to converse on religion. The most 
pleasing case was a young man of Mr.D— — «'s. 

«« Saturday, 9th. Went with my friend^ Mr. 
8 , to call on Miss H % Found her at 
her mother's*— We first passed the door— She 
ran out after us— Seemed happy i but agitated^ 


Ban, and called her mother— Soda we dHW the 
tioor of the parlour opeii« and a majestic ladj 
appeared $ who, as she entered the room« thus 
accosted me : — * Who art thou, oh blessed of 
the Lord ? Welcome to the widow's house! 
Accept the widow's thanks for comtng after 
the child whom thou hast begotten in the gos- 
pel ]'— I was too much overcome to do more 
than take bj the hand the aged saint A sol* 
€mn silence ensued foe a minute or two ; when 
the old lady recovering, expressed the fulness 
of her satisfaction respecting the reality of the 
change effected in her daughter, and her grati* 
tude for great refreshment of her own soai, by 
means of mj poor labours. She said, she had 
known the Lord during forty years, being 
called under the ministry of John Fisher, m 
the open air, when on a visit to an officer whd 
vas her brother-in-law. She told us much .of 
ker experience, and promised to encourage 
the prayer-meeting, which I proposed to be 
keid in her hou^e every Lord's day evening* 
They are to begin to-morrow, after preaching.— 
It was a pleasant meeting ; and we returned 
with pleasure to Eccles-street. After we rose 
vp to come away, the old lady affectionately 
said, ^ May the good will of Him who dwelt in 
the bosh attend you wherever you go, for ever 
and ever!"* 

The young lady some months after wrote to 
Mr. S , and says amongst other things,—* 
<* I have great reason to be thankful for the 
many blessings the Lord has been pleased to 
bestow upon me, and in particular for his 
sending Mr. Pearce to this city ; and that 
through his means I have been convinced of 

sin« I am happy to inform jon, that throudi 
^ace I am enabled to walk in the narrow paUi. 
The Itord has taken awaj all desire for world- 
ly company ; all my desires now are to attend 
on the means of grace. Blessed be his name, 
I often find him present in them. My moth- 
er and I often remember the happy time we 
spent in your company at our house. She of- 
ten speaks of it with great pleasure, and blesses 
the Lord for the change which grace has 
"wrought in me." 

<« Lord^s day, 10. (The Jast Sabbath.) 
Preached in the morning at Mary's abbey, 
from Job xxxiii. 27, 28. * He looketh upon 
men, and if any say I have sinned, and per- 
▼erteth that which was right, audit profittea me 
not ; he will deliver his soul from going into 
the pit, and his life shall see the light^—- A hap- 
py season. In the afternoon, having dined with 
Mr. W— , he took me to Swift's allcyr, the 
Baptist place of worship, where I save an ex- 
hortation on brotherly love, and administered 

the Lord's supper. At Mr. W 's motion, 

the church requested me to look out a suitable 
minister for them. In the evening I preached 
at Plunket-street, from 2 Tim. i. 18. ^The^ 
Lord grant unto him that he may find mercy of 
the Lord in that day!' A very solemn season. 
<^ Monday, 11th. Met the dear christian 
friends, for the last time, at a prayer-meeting 
in Plunket-street The Lord was there! Sev- 
eral friends spent the evening with us after- 
wards at Mr. H— 's. 

Tuesday, 12th. Went aboard at four ; ar* 
rived at Liverpool on Thursday ; and safely at 
home on Friday, July 15, 1796. Blessed be 


fft psahge's memoirs. 

the Preserver of men, the Saviour of sioners^. 
and the help of his servants, for evermoret 
amen, amen!" 

Some time after, wriiing to his friend who 
accouipaniod him, he says, ^* 1 have received 
several letters from Dublin :-*two from Mas- 
ter B. one from Miss H , one from M , 

three or four from the Baptist friends* aud 
some from others, whom I cannot recollect.— 

Mr. K lately called on me in his waj 

from Bath to Hul3'head. We talked of jou, 
and of our Lord, and did not part till we had 
presented ourselves before the throne." 

Daring his labours in Dublin, he was strong- 
ly solicited to settle in a very flattering situa- 
tion in the neighbourhood ;* and a very liberal 
salary was offered him. On hi« positively de- 
clining it, mention was made of only six 
'months of the year. When that was declined, 
three months were propo:$ed ; and when he 
ivas about to answer this in the negative, the 
party refused to receive his answer, desiring 
nim to take time to consider of it. He did so; 
and thoueh he entertained a very grateful 
sense of the kindness and generosity expressed 
by the proposal, yet after the maturest delib- 
eration, he thought it his duty to decline it. 
Mr. Pearce's modesty prevented his talking 
on such a subject ; but it was known at the 
time by his friend who accompanied him, and 
since his death, has been frequently mentioned 
as an instance of his disinterested spirit. 

His friends at Birmingham were ready to 
iliink it iiard that he should be so willing to 

* At tbe Black Rock, the r<»ideDC6 of 8om« of the 
^'^t genteel families in the vicinity of Dublin. 


leave them to go on a mission among the heath- 
en ; but thej could not well complain, and 
much less think ill of him, when they saw that 
such a willingness was more than could be ef- 
fected bj the most flattering prospects of a 
worldly nature, accompanied too with promis 
ing appearances of religious usefulness. 

About a month after his. return from Dublin, 
Mr. Pearce addressed a letter to Mr. Carey, 
in which he gives some farther account of Ire- 
land, as well as of some other interesting mat- 
ters :— 

Simiingkamf Jhig. 12, 1796. 

**0n my dear brother, did you but know 
with what feelings 1 resume my pen, freely to 
correspond with you after receiving your very 
affectionate letter to myself, and perusing that 
which you sent by the same conveyance to the 
Society, I am sure you would persuade your- 
self that I have no common friendship for you, 
and that your regards are at least returned 
with equal ardour. 

*'I fear (I had almost said) that I shall nev- 
er see your face in the flesh ; but if any thing 
can add to the joy which the presence of 
Christ, and conformity, perfect conformity to 
him, will afford in heaven, surely the certain 
prospect of meeting with my dear brother Ca- 
rey there, is one of (if not) the greatest. 
Thrice hajppy should! be, if the providence of 
God would open a way for my partaking of 
your labours, ^your sufferings, and your pleas- 
ures on this side the eternal world : but all 
my brethren here are of a mind, that I shall 
be more useful at home than abroad ; and I^ 


ihough reluctantlj, submit. Tet I am trnff 
npith jrou in spirit Mj heart is at Mudnabat- 
tr, and at times I eyen hope to find mj.body 
were : but with the Lord I leave it $ he knows 
my- wishes, mj motives, my regret : he knowa 
all mj soul $ and, depraved as it is, I feel an 
inexpressible satisfaction that he does know it. 
However, it is a humbling thought to me, that 
he sees I am unfit for such a station, and un- 
worthy such an honour as to bear his name 
among the heathen. But I must be thankful 
still, that though he appoints me not to a post 
in foreign service, he will allow me to stuid 
sentinel at home. In this situation may I 
havesrace to be faithful unto death! 

<M hardly wonder at your being pained on 
account of the effects produced on the minds 
pfyour European friends, by the news of yonr 
eOga^ement in the Indigo business, because I 
imagine you are ignorant of the process of that 
matter amonest us. When I received the 
news, I glorified God in sincerity, on account 
of it, and gave most hearty thanks to him for 
his most gracious appearance on your behaff : 
l)ut at the same time I feared, lest through 
that undertaking, the work of the mission 
'might in some way or other be impeded. The 
same impression was made on the minds of many 
others : yet no blame was attached, in our 
view, to you. Our minds were only alarmed 
for the future ^ not disposed to censure for the 
past Had you seen a faithful copy of the 
prayers, the praises, and the conversation of 
the day in which your letters were read, I 
know vou would not have entertained one un- 
kind thought of the Society towards you. Oh 


Ob, tsij dear bi^ther^ far be it from us to lay 

an atom upon your spirit^ of a painfal nature* 

T^eed I say, M/e do love, we do respect you, 

nfe do confide too much in you to design the 

smaUest occasion of distre#s to your heart. 

But I close this subject. In future we will 

atone for an expression that might bear a harsh 

construction* We will strengthen, we will 

support, we will comfort, we will encourage 

you in your arduous work ; all, all shall be 

loye and kindness ; glory to God and good 

will to meii. If I have done aught that is 

M^rong, as an individual, pardon me : If we 

have said aught amiss^ as a Society, pardon us. 

Let us forbear one another in love, forgiving 

one anothert.^ even as God for Christ's sak^ 

hath forgiven us. 

*^ By the time this reaches you* I hope you 
will have received Nos. 1. and II. of Periodi- 
cal Accounts. Should you find any thing in 
them, which you think had better be omitted^ 
pray be free in mentioning it, aud in future 
your instructions shall be fully attended to; 
We have taken all the pains, and used all the 
caution in our power jsp render them unexcep- 
tionable i but you caQ better judge in some 
respects than we. [f you should not approve 
of all (though we are not conscious of any 
thing that you will disapprove) you wilt not 
be ofiended, but believe we have done our 
best, and with your remarks, hope to do better 


^'With pleasure approaching toxapture, I 
read the last accounts you sent us. I never 
expected immediate success : the prospect is 
kuly greater than my most sauguine hopes. 

82 pearob's uEMonis*^ 

< The Ungdom of heaven is like to a* litfTe 
leaven hid in three measures of meal, till Ae 
tohoie is leavened.' Blessed be God! the 
leaven is in the meal, and its influence is al- 
ready discoverable. A ereat God is doing 
treat things by you. Go on, my dearest 
rother, go on ; God will do greater things 
than these. Jesus is worthy ot a W9fid of 
praise : and shall IRndoBtthi not praise him I 
Surely he shall see of the travail of his soul 
there^ and the sower and the reaper shall rejoice 
together. Alreadv the empire of darkness tot- 
ters, and soon it shall doubtless fall. Blessed 
be the labourers in this important work i and 
blessed be He who giveth them hearts and 
strength to labour, ana promises that they shall 
not labour in vain! 

<< Do not fear the want of money. Ood is 
for us, and the silver and . the gold are his ; 
and so are the hearts of those who possess the 
most of it I will travel from the Land^s end 
to the Orkney's but we will get money enough 
for all the demands of the mission. I have 
never had a fear on that head : a little exer- 
tion will do wonders j ||id past experience jus- 
tifies every confiflence. Men^ we only want | 
and God shall find them for us in due time. 

** Is brother Fountain arrived ? We hope 
he will be an acceptable remittance, and, viva 
voce, compensate for the lack of epistolary 

^*I rejoice in contemplating; a church of 
our Lord Jesus Christ in Bengal, formed upon 
his own plan. Why do not the Hindoo con- 
verts join it P Lord, help their unbelief! But 
perhaps the drop is now withheld, that you 

VBj by and bj have the shower, and lift np 
jour ejest and say, * These, whence came 
they ? They fly as clouds, and as doves to 
tbeir windows.' For three years, we read of 
few baptized by the first disciples of our Lord ; 
but on the fourth, three thousand, and five 
-Qiottsand openly avowed him. The Lord send 
you such another Pentecost! 

** I intend to write my dear brother a long 
letter. It will prove my desire to gratify him, 
if it do no more. I wbh that I, knew in what 
communications your other correspondents will 
be most deficient : then I would try to supply 
their omissions. 

<^ I will begin with myself: but I have noth* 
ing good to say. I think I am the most vile 
ungrateful servant that ever Jesus Christ em- 
ployed in his church. At some times, I ques-* 
tion whether I ever knew the grace of God in 
truth ; and at others, I hesitate on the most 
important points of Christian faith. I have 
lately had peculiar struggles of this kind with 
my own heart, and have often half concluded 
to speak no more in the name of the Lord. 
IVhen I am preparing for the pulpit, I fear I 
am going to avow tables for facts, and doc- 
trines of men for the truthsiof God. In con- 
versation I . am obliged to be silent, lest my 
tongue should belie my heart In prayer 1 
know not what to say, and at times think prav- 
^r altogether useless. Yet I cannot wholly 
surrender my hope, or my profession. Three 
things I find, above all others, tend to my 
preservation :— First, A recollection of a time, 
when, at once^ I was brought to abandon the 
practice of sins, which the fear of damnation- 

84. AiA^Ob's MBMOHIS. 

ooald never bring me to reUnqui9h before^ 
Surely I saj^ thi^ must-be the finger of God^ 
according to the scripture doctrine of regen- 
eration : Secondly, I leel such a consciousness 
of'guiltf that nothing but the gospel scheme 
can satisfy my mind respecting the hope <tf 
salvation :•— and Thirdly, 1 see that what true 
devotion does appear in the vorld« seems only 
to be found among those to whom Christ is 

*^ But I frequently find a backwardness to 
secret prayer, and much deadoess in it $ and 
it puzzles me to see how this can be consistent 
with a life of grace. However, I resolve, that 
let what will become of me, I will do all I can 
for God while I live, and leave the rest to 
him ; and this I usually experience to be the 
best way to be at peace. 

*< I believe, that if I were more fully given 
up to God, I should be free from these dis- 
tressing workings of mind ; and then I long to 
be a missionary where I should have temp* 
tations to nothing but to abound in the work of 
the Lord, and lay myself entirely out for him. 
In such a situation, 1 think pride would have 
but little food^ and faith more occasion for 
exercise ; so that the spiritual life, and in* 
ward religion would thrive better than they do 

^^At times, indeed, I do feel, I trust, eena* 
ine contrition, and sincerely lament my short- 
comings before God. Oh the sweets that ac- 
company true repentance! Yes, I love to be 
abased before €rod. ^ There it is I find mj 
blessing." May the Lord daily and hourlj 
bring me low,' and keep me so! 

**Ab to my publick work, I find, whilst en- 


gaeed IB it, li|k| caase to complain for want 
either of matteflk* words. My labours are 

accMtable, and nt at|Meth«r unprofitable to 
the liearers : but w|^#;ie^i^ to ne, if my own 

soul starfes whilst oUteM^e fed by me P Oh, 
my brother, I need your prayew, and I feel a 
sreat satisfaction in the n^Oi that jou do not 
forget me. Oh that 1 may be k^ raithful un* 
to death! Indeed, in the mi<hi^or my strug- 
gUnes, a gleam of hope, that t sHall at last 
awake in the likeness of Goil, aflhrds4pe great- 
er joy than words can express. To be with 
Christ, is far better than to continue sinitng 
here : but if the Lord hath any thing to do by 
me, his will be done. « 

^^ I have never so fully opened my case to 
any one before. Your freedom on similar top- 
icH encourages me to make my complaint to 
you, and 1 think if you were near me, 1 should 
feel great relief in revealing to you all my 
heart But 1 shall fatigue you with my moan- 
ings I so I will have done on Ihis subject. 

**> It is not long since I returned from a kind 
of mission to Irdand. A society is establish- 
ed in Dublin for the purpose of inviting from 
England, ministers of various denominations, 
to assist in promoting the interests of the king- 
dom .of Christ there. Some of our Baptist 
brethren had been there before me, as Rippon, 
Langdon, Francis, and Birt ; and I think the 
plants calculated for usefulness. I have, at 
Dr. Rippon's request, sent him some remarks 
on my visit, foi;. the Register | but as it is prob- 
able you will receive this before that comes to 
hand, I will say something of my excuraioa 


96 pbarok's mMOP&s." 

w^ — ^^,^^ ver*'* «;:'*' st made i^^» 

acauainted with ^ej^^t^l state of reli^Ri in 
DuoliiL' I foua^ ^Mf^W^^^ ^^^^ Pi^sbTteriaa 
coneregattcTns ^ iy^o ot these belong to the 
souStern ^esb^teg^, and are Arians or Socini' 
ans ; the o^er two are connected with the 
northern ^dl^i^terj, and retain the Westmin- 
tftfr coirfesion of faith. One of the^e latter 
ceng^eg|tiona; is very small, and the minister, 
thouzb orthodox* appears to have but little 
siifc^BS* . The other is large and flourishing : 
the place of worship ninety feet by seventj, 
and, injthe mornisg, well filled. Their timefr 
of publick service are at half past eleven, and 
five. In the afternoon, the usual congrega- 
tions are small indeed ; for five o'clock is the 
dinine hour in Dublin, and few of the hearers 
.would leave their dinners for the gospel. Dr. 
Mc Oowal is the senior pastor of this church, 
a verjr affecticinate, spiritual man. The 
junior is Mr. Horner. ' The doctor is a warm 
friend of the Society, at whose request I went 
over to Ireland. 

** There is one congregation of Burgher Se« 
coders, and another of Antiburghers. The 
latter will not hear any man who is not of their 
own cast; the former are much more liber* 
al. ^ I preached for them once,- and they af« 
fectionately solicited a repetition of my^ser- 

^ *« Lady Huntingdon's connexion has one so- 
ciety here, the only one in the kin^om, per- 
haps, except at Sligo, where there is anotner. 
It is not largCi and I fear rather declining* 

There is not one independent church in the 
kinedom. There vere ten Baptist societies in 
Ireland : thejr are now reduced to six ; and 
are, I fear, still on the decline. 

**Xhe inhabitants of Dublin seem to be 
cbieflj composed of two classes : the one as- 
Bume tl^ appearance of opulence; the other 
exhibit marks of the most abject poverty: and 
as there are no parishes, in Ireland vfhich pro- 
vide for the poor, many die every year for want 
of the necessaries of life. 

*^ Most of th^ rich are by profession protes- 
tants ; the poor are nearly all papists, and 
strongly prejudiced against the reformed reli- 
gion. Their ignorance and .superstition are 
scarcely inferior to your miserable Hindoos. 
On mictsummer day I had an affecting proof 
of the latter. On the publick road, about a 
mile from Dublin, is a well, which was once 
included in the precincts of a priory, dedicat- 
ed to St. John of Jerusalem. This well is in 
bigh repute for curing a number of bodily com- 

S taints, and its virtues are said to be mostef- 
cacious on the saint's own day. So from 
twelve o'clock at nieht, for twenty-four hours, 
it becomes the rendezvous for all the lame, 
blind, and otherwise diseased people, within a 
circuit of twenty miles. Here tney brought 
M and young, and applied the * holy water,' 
both intemalgr snd externally | some by jwur- 
ine, some by immersion, and all by drinking : 
whilst, for the good of those who could not 
come in person, their friends filled bottles 
with the efScacious water to use at home. 
Several! saw on their knees before the wel]> 
at their devotions, who were not unfrequently 

8S fbarob's msmoirs. 

interrupted with a glass of whiskey. Witb 
this they were supplied from a number of deal- 
ers in tnat article, who kept sundings all round 
the well. 

** Near the spot, was a church-jard« where 

great numbers kneeled upon the tombs of tiieir 
eceased relatives, ana appeared earnestly 
engaged in praying fur the repose of their 

*' It was truly a lamentable sight My 
heart ached at their delusions, whilst I fek 
gratitude, I hope unfei^ed, for an acquaint- 
ance with the water of life, of ^hich^ if a man 
drink, he shall live for eter. 

** There are few, •r none, of the midjdie 
class to connect the rich and the poor ^ so that 
favourable access to theon is far more difficult 
than to the lower orders of the people in Eng- 
land ; and their priests hold them in such 
bondage, that if a catholic servant only attend 
on firunily worship in a protestant house, pem- 
ance must be performed for the (tfence. 

Mention has already been made of his haT^ 
ing ^^ formed a pleasins acquaintance with sev* 
eral serious young genSemen of th^ UniversilT 
of Dublin."* The following letter was adk 
dressed to one of them, the Ri'v Mr. Matthias^ 
a few months after his return :-*- 

Dear Brother Mattbiag, 

I* I have been employed this whole day in 
writing letters to Dublin ; and it is the first 
day I have been able to redeem for that pur- . 
pose. I will not consume a page in apology. 

♦ Page 71. 

feabce's memoirs. 89 

jLet it suffice to say, that necessitr, not disin- 
cUnatioD, has detained from my Irish friends, 
those proofs of my gratitude and esteem, which 
ID other circumstances I ought to haye pre- 
sented three months ago. I thought this morn- 
ing' of answering all their demands before I 
slept : but I have written so many sheets, and 
all full, that I find my eyes and my fingers 
both fail ; and I believe this must close my in- 
tercourse with Dublin this day. When I 
shall be able to complete my purpose, I do not 
know. To form friendships with good men is 
pleasant ; but to maintain all thai cammuniony 
^hich friendship expects, is in some cases very 
difficult Happj should I be, could I meet 
my Irish friends in propria persona, instead of 
fitting in solitude, and maintaining, by the te- 
dious medium of the pen, this distant inter- 
course* But ^ The Lord, he shall choose our 
inheritance for us.' Were all the planets of 
our system embodied, and placed in close as- 
sociation, the light would be creator, and the 
object grander ; but then, usefulness and sys- 
tematic beauty consist in their dispersion : 
and what are we, my brother, but so man^ sat- 
ellites to Jesus, the sreat Sun of the Christian 
system ? Some, indeed, like burning Mercu- 
nes, keep nearer the luminar;^', and receive 
more of its light and heat, whilst others, like 
the ringed planet, or the Georgium Sidus, pre- 
serve a greater distance, and reflect a greater 
portion of his light : yet if, amidst all this di- 
versity, they belong to the syetem^ two things 
may oe affirmed of all : — all keep true to 
one centre, and borrow whatever nght they 
have from one source. True it is, that the 

H2 . 

DO pearoe's memoirs* 


further they are from the sua, the longer are. 
they in performing their revolutions : and is 
not this exemplified in us ? The closer we 
keep to Jesus^ the n^ore brilliant are our graces,, 
the more cheerful and active are our lives f 
but alas we are all comets $ we all move itf 
eccentric orbits : at one time glowing beneatb 
the ray divine, at another freezing and con- 
gealing the icicles. * Oh what a miracfe ta 
man is man^' 

^^ Little did I think when I began this let- 
ter, that I should have thus indulged myself ia 
allegory ; but true friendship, ? believe,, always 
dictates extempore ; and my friends must nev* 
er expect from me a studied epistle. They caa 
m<>et with better thoughts, than I can furnish 
them with, in any bookseller's shop. It is not 
the dish, however well it may be cooked, that 
gives the relish, but the sweet sauce of friend-- 
ship ; and this i think sometimes makes even 
nonsense palatable. 

'* But I have some questions to put to you ;— 
first, how are all my college friends, Messrs. 
Walker, Maturin, Hamilton, &c.? How is their 
health? But chiefly, how are the interests of 
religion among you ? Are any praying students 
added to your number? Do all tnose you 
thought well of, continue to justify their pro- 
fession? You know what it is that interests 
me. Pray tell me. all, whether it makes me 
weep, or rejoice. 

^* I hope Mr. H-— 's ministry was blessed in 
Dublin. Do jrou know any instances of it i 
We must sow in hope, and 1 trust that we shall 
all gather fruit to eternal life, even where the 
bucmings have never, appeared to us in this 
vorld. How is it wita your own soul? I 

pearce's memoirs. dl 

tbank God I neiver, I think, rejoiced habituallj 
$o much in him as I have done of late. ^^God 
is loveJ*^ That makes me happj. I rejoice 
ibat God reigns \ that he reigns over all ^ that 
he reigns over me ; over roj cro8i>e»9 my com- 
forts, my family, my friends, my senses, my 
mental powers, my designs, my words, my 
preachine, my conauct $ that he is God over aU 
blessed forever I am willing to liye, yet I 
long to die, to be freed from all error and all 
Bin. I have nothing else to trouble me ; no 
other cross to carry. The sun shines without, 
all day long ; but I am sensible of internal dark- 
ness. Well, through grace it shall be all light 
by and by. Yes, you and I shall be angels of 
lights all Mercuries then j all near the sun ; 
afways in motion; always glowing with zeal 
and flaming with love. Oh for the new heavens 
and the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteous- 

< Oh what love and concord there 

And what 9weet harmony 

In heaven above, where happy souls 

Adore thy majesty. 
Oh how the heavenly choirs all sing 
To him who sits enthroned above 3 

What admiring ! 

And aspiring ! . 

Still desiring : — 
Oh how I long to see this feast of love !' 

" Will you tell brother M that I wait 

an opportunity to send a parcel to him ? In 
that I will enclose a letter. My very aflbction- 
ate respects to him, and Mr. n— «-, with all 
my college friends as though named. If you ht 
not weary of such an eccentric correspondent, 
pray do not be lo^; ere you write toyour unwor- 
diy, but aSectionate brother in Christ. &• P« *^ 

9d pearoe's memoirs. 

Awhile after this, he thas writes to his friend^ 
Mr. Summers :•«- 

<< December, 1796. I rejoice that yoa have 
been supported under, and brought tiiroa^ 
your late trials. I do not wonder at it, for it 
IS no more than God has promised ; and though 
we may well wonder that he promises any thing, 
yet his performance is no just ground of sur- 
prise ; and when we find ourselves so employ- 
ed, we had better turn our wonder to our own 
unbelief, that for one moment suspected God 
.would not be as good as Ms word. 

*^I have been lately more than ever de- 
lighted with the thought, that God hath mr 
faged to do an j thing for such worms as we. 
never studied the deistical controversy so 
much, nor ever rejoiced in revelation more. 
Alas! what should we know, if God had not 
condescended to teach us, Paul veryjustlj 
remarks, that no one knoweth any tnms; of 
God, but the Spirit of God, and he to whom 
the Spirit revealeth him. Now the Spirit hath 
revealed God in the Bible, but to an unbeliev- 
er the Bible is a sealed book. He can know 
nothing from a book that he looks upon as an 
imposture, and jet there is no other book in 
which God is revealed $ so that to rqect the 
Bible, is to immerse ourselves in darkness, and 
whilst professing to be wise, actually to become 
a fool $ whereas, no sooner do we believe what 
the S]>irit saith, than unto us is God revealed, 
and * in his light do we see light' S. P.'' 

To the above maybe added^ a few extracts 
of letters, which he addressed to his friends in 
ir9r, and 1798. 



Mareh^ 1797. 

** During the last three weeks, I have, at 
Vmes, been verj poorly, in colds, &c. Am 
l>etter now, and have been all along assisted 
in going through my publick duties. Let us 
continue to pray for each oth^ r, till death 
makes it a needfess service. How uncertain 
is life, and what a blessing is death to a saint! 
I seem lately to feel a kind of affection for 
death.' Metbinks if it were visible, I could 
einbi^ce it. * Welcome herald, that bids the 
prisoner be free ; that announces the dawn of 
everlasting day $ that bids the redeemed come 
to Zion with everlasting joy, to be beyond the 
reach of an errolieous judgment, and a deprav- 
ed heart. To believe, to feel, to speak« to act 
txaetlif as God will have me ; to be wl>olly ab«- 
Borbed and taken up with him; this, this,' 
nothing short of this, can make my bliss com- 
plete. But aU this is mine. Oh the height^ 
the depth, the length, the breadth of Re||eem- 
ing love! it conquers my heart, and constrains 
me to jfield myself a living sacrilice, accepta- 
ble to God, through Jesus Christ* 

** My dear brother, we have had many hap-: 
py meetings upon earth : the best is in re^ 

' No heart opon earth can conceive , ^ 
The bliN) that in heaven Aey share -, 

Then, who this dark world would not leave. 
And cheerfully die to be there !' 

«* Oh how full of love, and joy, and praiae^ 
shall we be when that happv state is ours! 
Vfe\U yet a little wl^le, and He that shall 
cone, will come. Even so cooiey Lord Jesus! 


Mj dear brother, forgive the hasty effusions of 
jL heart that loves you in the bowels of Jesus, 
ai|d is always happy in testifying itself to be 
Affectionately yours, & P.'' 


On the falling away of some who had promised fiur 
in ?efigion. 


** I thank you, my dear brother, for the con- 
fidence you repose in me, the affection you 
have for me^ and the freedom with which you 
write to me. Assure yourself that I sincerely 
sympathize in the cutting events which you 
have lately |experienced. Trying indeed! 
Your heart must bleed. Tet be not discour- 
^sed in vour work. The more Satan opposes 
^ ckrUty tne more let U8 oppose Aim. He comes 
'^th great violence because his time is short. 
His Kingdom is on the decline; his strong 
holds are besieged, and he knows they must 
soon ke taken. '"^Whilst it lasts^ he is making 
desperate sallks on the armies rfthe Lamb. It 
is no great wondelr that he fights and wounds a 
raw recruit now and then, who strays from the 
camp, and thoughtless of the dan^, keeps 
not close by the Captain's tent. I hope our 
glorious Leader will neal the wounded, and se- 
cure tffe captive. He is sure to make repn^ 
sals. Christ wilMia^e ten to oie« You will 
et see his arm made brave. He shall go forth 
ike a man of war. The prisoners shall be re* 
deemed, and theold tvrant shall be cast into 
the bottomless pit. ile of good cheer, my fel- 
low soldier. The cause is* not ours, but 
Ood's. Let us endure hardness^ and %&& 


%^t the good fig^t of faith. At lut we shall 
come off conqudlrors, through Him who hath 
loved us. . . • 

**I ho)>eyou have some causes forjdjr, as 
well as erieL I trust (heush one, or two, or 
t^ree fall, the tens, and uie twenties stand 
their ground. Oh do vf^^t you can to cheer 
them under the common trial Let then not 
see a faint heart in you. Fight manfully slill. 
Tell them to watch the more; to pray the 
harder ; to walk the closer with Ood. So out 
of the eater shall comeforth meat, and sweet- 
ness oat of the stiiono;. S..F." 


Who had been burnt oat of their residence. 

^^ The many expressions of christian friend* 
ship which I received from you, and your af* 
fectionate families, during my last visit to 
London, will often exdte mteful recollection 
in future, as they have almost daily since I 
parted from you ; and though I do aot write 
this avowedly as a mere letter of acknowledg- 
ment, yet I wish to assure you, that I am not 
forgetful of my friends, nor unthankful for 
their kindness. May all the favour you show 
to the servants of our common Lord for his 
sake, be amply recompensed in present peace, 
and future felicity, wnen the promise oi Him 
who cannot lie, shall be fulfilled. — * A cup of 
cold water given to a disciple, in the name of 
a disciple, shall not lose hs reward.' 

.*< But, whilst you, my dear friends, live *ia 
hope of the glory' that remains < to be reyeaU 

#6 fI&aaoe's memoirs* 

ed,' I am persuaded that you expect off as tiie 
fruit of sovereign mercy, whfoh first forms ntf 
to the mind of Christ, then accepts, and thea 
rewards. Truly, if sinners be rewarded, it 
must be, * of ^race,* and Rot of debt ' Yet it 
is a mercy ot unspeakable maj;nitude, that 
grace should establish a connexion, between 
obedience and enjoyment ; such a connexion, 
as at once insures joy to the believer, and glo* 
ry to Christ. 

^^ Oh that our thoughts, our affections, our 
desires may be much in heaven! Here^ vov 
have been taught, is * no continuing city,' na 
certain place of abode ; and though you have 
been taught it awfully in flames, yet if you 
learn it effectually, the terror of the means 
will be conquered by the excellency and glory 
of the consequences. Yes, my friends, *in 
heaven we have a better and enduring sub- 
stance :' the a[Nirtment8 there are more 8pa« 
cious ; thie society more sweet ; the enjoy- 
ments more perfect ; and all to last for ever. 
Well may christians ^ rejoice in hope of the 
glory of^iod!' S. P.'» 


Jfovemher 17, 1797] 

Blessed be ^the Preserver of men,' for all 
his goodness to dear Mr. and Mrs. B. With 
theirs shall my gratitude also ascend, whilst sep- 
rated from their society ; and with theirs, 
shall it more warmly and permanently ascend 
when we meet to form a part of the general 
sembly, the church of the first born. 


' ** I do not return to London this autumn^ 
Irat I mean to Twit Portsmonth. I must bft 
indebted to you for mj dtrections. We shall 
be very happy to see you at Luke-street : but 
9FM8 I suppose will be the vortet that Will 
swallow up much of your time. Well, so yott 
are happy, we must be disinterested enough to 
be satisfied, although we be denied a personal 

^^ Let as not forget that we are Christians $ 
lind Christians proress a hope of a better coun*< 
try than Cambria contains. T^ere, we all be- 
long. Already citizens by privilege, we shall 
be by possession soon. 

* Boll swifter round, ye wheels of time. 
And bring the welcome day/ 


'^ In hope of greeting you both iti that good 
land, I remain, most anectionately yours, 

— •— S. P.» 


November 17, 1797. 

•* I feel much for you in relation both to the 
duties and trials of your present situation : at 
the same time I bless God who fixed you in it, 
because I am persuaded that it will be for his 
glory in the churches of Christ. And though 
none but those, whose hands are full of reli- 
gious concerns, can guess at your difficulties'; 
yet our blessed Redeemer knows them all* 
Oh, my brother, you are travailing for Him, 
who redeemed you by his blood $ who sympa- 
thizes with you, and who will graciously 
crowti you at last. Small as my trials are, 1 
^oold turn smith, and work at the anvil and 
ihe ibi^ rather than bear tiiem for any oth«r 



master than Chr%$U Yet were they, ten tboas- 
and times as maoj as thej are, the thought of 
their ^being for him, I tmstt would sweeten 
them all. 

*^ I hare reason to be very thankful for much 
pleasure of late, both as a christian and a min- 
ister. I have never felt so deeply my need of 
a Divine Redeemer, and seldom possessed 
such solid confidence that he is mine. I want 
more and more to become a little child, to 
dwindle into nothing in my own esteem, to 
renounce my own wisdom, power and good- 
ness, and simply look to, ana live npon Jesus 
for idl. I am ashamed, that I have so much 
pride, so much self-will. Oh my Saviour! 
make me < meek and lowly in heart $' in this 
alone I find * rest to my soul.' 
^ *^I could say much of what Immanuel has 
done for my soul $ but I fear lest even this 
should savour of vanity. When shall I be 
like my Lord ! Oh welcome death, when I have 
nothing more to do for Christ! To him, till 
then, may I live every day and every hour! 
Rather may I be annihilated than not live to him! 

^* Tou will rqoiee with me to hear that we 
have a pleasing piospect as a church. Several 
very hopeful^ and some very valuable charac- 
ters are about to join us. Lord, carry on thj 
work! S. P/^ 


On the dangerooi iUness of one of the children. 

PortsfntnUhf January 29, 1796. 

'^ Ignorant ot the circumstances of our dear 
child, how shall I address myself to her dearer 
notherl With a fluttering heartf and a tremb^ 


ling hand, I, in this uncertainty, resume mr 
pen. One consideration tranquillizes mj mind, 
— -I and mine are in the hands of €hd : the 
vnse, the good, the indulgent Parent of man- 
kind! Wkateyer he does is best I am pre- 
pared for all his will, and hope that I shall 
never have a feeling, whose language is not, 
• Thy will be done.' 

<* I am most kindly entertained here by Mr. 
and Mrs. Shoveller : and, except my dear Sa- 
rah^ presence, feel myself at home. TTiey 
have had^eater trials than we can at presebt 
know. They have attended seven children to 
the gloomy tomb : tbey have b^en supported 
beneath their loss, bv Him who hath said, 'At 
thy days, so shall thy strength be.' Mrs. S. 
tells me, she * blessed God for all.' May my 
dear Sarah be enabled to do the same, what-* 
ever the result may prove. To-morrow I ex- 
pect another letter from you ; yet lest you 
should too much feel my absence, I will not 
delay forwarding this a single post. that it 
may prove in some degree a messenger of con- 

<* Yesterday I preached three times; God 
was very good. I received your letter before 
the first service: you may be assured tliat 
I bore you on my heart in the presence of my 
Lord and yours ; nor shall I pray in vain. 
He will either restore the child, or support 
you under the loss of it. I dare not pray with 
importunity for any earthly good $ for * who 
knoweth what is good for man in this life, all 
the days of his vain life which he spendeth as 
a shadow ?' But strength to bear the loss of 
•arthly comfortSi he has promUed: for that I 


importune; and thaif I doubt not, irill hn 

^* In a houj^e directly opposite to the wind- 
oiw before which I now write, a ti^e, Kmotfier^ 
is just departed. Why am 1 not a bereaved 
husband ? Why not my children motherleas ? 
When we compare our condition with onx 
wishes, we often complain : but if we compare 
it with that of maiiy around us, our complaints 
irould be exchanged for gratitude and pvaise. 

— #— S. P.» 


February 14, 1798. 

** Not a day has hurried by, since I parted 
with my dear friends in Pall Mall, but they 
have been in my affectionate remembrance; 
but not being able to speak with any satisfaction 
respecting our dear child, 1 have withheld my- 
seli from imparting new anxieties to bosoms al- 
ready alive to paiaful sensibility. 

** At length, however, a gracious Qod puts it 
in mv power to say that there is hope. After lan- 
guishing between life and death for many dars 
she now seems to ame^d. We flatter ourselves 
that she has passed the crisis, and will yet be 
restored to our arms : but parental fears for- 
bid too .strong a confidence. It mav be that 
our most merciful God saw that the shock of a 
audden reinoval would be too strung for the ten- 
der feelings of a mother ; and so by degrees, 
prepares fui: the stioke which must tall at last. 
However, she is in the best hands, and we are* 
I hope, preparing for submission to whatever 
may be the blessed will of God. 

*^ I was brought home in safety, and feel my- 
self in much better health in consequence of 


my jouniey. Oh that it may be all consecrated 
to m J Redeemer's praise ! 

^* Happy should I bey if I coold oftener enjoy 
your friendly society $ but we must wait for the 
full accomplishment of our social wishes^ till 
we come to that better worlds for which diyine 
grace is preparing us*— There our best^ our 
brightest hopes, and there our warmest affec- 
tions must be found. Could we have all we 
want bdiow, we should be reluctant to ascend, 
i¥hen Jesus calls us home. No, this is not our 
rest ; it is polluted with sin, and dashed with 
sorrow : but though our pains in themselves 
are evil, yet our God turns the curse into a bless-* 
in^9 and makes all that we meet with accom- 
plish our good. 

** What better can I wish, my friends, than 
the humble place of Mary, or the happy rest 
of John ! Faith can enjoy them both, till ac- 
tually we fall at the Saviour's feet, and lean up- 
on his bosom, when we see him as he is. 

' Oh the delights, the heav'nlj joy«, 

The glories oi the place, 
Where Jesus sheds the orighteet beams 

Of his overflowing grace !' 

s. p.'' 



**My Love is erttcified:*^ 
Hewn dcaideriani cruoifiiuBi «it 

Warm was bis heart, his faith was strong) 
Who thus in rapture cried, 

*Wben IgnaUm, pastor ofth« ^urch at AntiQcli, watxondenuMdl^ 
(he emperor Trajan, to raffer death at Rooke, he waa appreh«Mnre4hat tbw 
Clviitiaiii there, eat of their grea* ^f^ey i<jj: him, 94§!^ •pt^rvtti to 


102 pbarob's memoirs* 

When on his way to martyrdom, 

Warm alto be my love fbr Him» 

Who thus for ainaera dy*d ; 
liOOg as I live be this my theme^ 

My Love is crncify'd. 

Come, oh my flpul, behold him piefc'4 

In hand9 and feet an^ side ; 
And say, while he's in blood immers'd, 

My Love is crueify'd. 

What lover ere to win my heart, 

So much has done beside ? 
To him ru cleave, and never part ; 

My Love i$ crucify'd. 

Oh that in Jesus* wonnds, my soul 

Secure, may ever bide, 
An4 ting as changing seasons roll. 

My Love is crucify^d. 

In seasons t>ft, when bow'd with fear, 
My trembling heart has sigh'd, 

This thought ajgain brings comiort near, 
My Love %s cructfy*d. 

To what a test his love was put, 

When by his sufTriogs try'd. 
But faithful to the end endur'd ; 

My Love is cm$ify'd. 

His garments white as wintry snows, 

In crimson floods were dy*d ; 
Hence spring the blessings he bestows : 

My Love is cfMdfy'd, 

Down from his wounded body flowed 

The all-atoning tide, 
Which peace restored 'twixt me and God;; 

My Love is erueify*d. 

Now, by the Cross, is hell subdued, 
And all his pow'rs defy'd ; 

{rereBt hk martyrdom ; and therefore wrote a letter from Smjma totbe 
.•man dkriitiaiii, whieii he aeat on before bin, w h e rMa he eameitty be- 
•eechca them to take no mcararei for the eoatimiaiice of his life} aai 

igitotherthin0,aa7i, «* I long for death," addiut Of a ration vhy ht 
tntdepiroiuof thwt«itU7iashMfeTttoCyvirt,«tfyto?eM cra«^ 

vbarob's memoirs* iOl 

It yields to Jesus' coBqueriag blood; 
My 1*9^ if erucify*d. 

Ne'er oiay my dear despised Lord 

By me be once <leBy'd ; 
My joy, my crown, my boast be tbi^, 

My Love is €rucify*d. 

Dead be my heart to all below. 

In Cbrist may I abide ; 
Why should I love the creatve soi 

My Love is crucify'd. 

Shameful his deBlh,oh let it slay 

In me all cursed pride ; 
Lowly in Jesus, may 1 eav. 

My Love is enicify*d. 

When first my soul, br Hying faitbr 

My bleedinff Lord espy '3^ 
My lips declared at ev'ry oreath. 

My Love is crucify'd. 

And since my happy heart has know9 

His sacred blood apply 'd, 
This still has been mj sweetest song. 

My Lome is erue%fy*d. 

And whilst upon this world I stay, 

Whate'er may me betide, 
To all around 111 eyer say, 

My Love is erucify*d. 

When throBgh death's gloomy vale I wai](y 

My Lord shall be my giiid^ ; 
To him ril Bing, of him I'll talk, 

My Love is crucify'd. 

Could I, his praise e'en now I'd souad,. 

As vast creation wide ; 
But I shall sing on heayenly ground. 

My Love is erucify^d, 

Tes, ^ben to that blessed land I mouii^ 

On places high to ride, 
Through all eternity I'll shout, 

Mt lotb is crugify'd. 

Jmrnry 19, 179^ 

104 fearoe's memoirs. 



«AAcdMwtel7aadr«gie4to Mn.J. H^-^, «b the death of herdOf 
hy her trnty lyBpatkiiiag frieod,) 8. P.* 

MTffrdk ti^tlW, 

"In a BWeet spot, which Wisdom chofl«. 
Grew an unif|ue and lovely Roee ; 
A flow*r 10 fair^as seldom borne — 
A Roee almost without a thorn. 
Each passing stranger stop'd to view 
A plant poaeessing charms so new : 
** iw&et fToieV /" each lip was heard to say^- 
Nor less the Owner pleased than they ; 
Reared by his hand with constant care. 
And planted in his choice parterre. 
Of all his garden this the pride, 
No flow'r so much admir'd beside. 

Nor did the Rose unconscious bloom. 
Nor (eel ungrateful for the boon ; 
Oft as her guardian came that way, 
Whether at dawn or eve of day. 
Expanded wide — ^her form nnveil'd, 
fihe douhU fragrance then ezhal'd. 

As months rolled on, the spring appeared. 
Its genial rays the Rose matur'd ; 
Forth from its root a shoot extends — 
The parent Rose-tree downward bends, 
And, with a joy unknown before, 
Contemplates the yet embryo flow'r. 

* Offspring most dear (she fondly said,) 

* Part of myself ! beneath my shade, 
' Safe shalt thou rise, whilst happy I, 
' Transported with maternal joy, 

* Shall see thy little buds appear, 

' Unfold and bloom in beauty here. 
' What thoush the Lily, or Jonquil, 

* Or HyacinOi no longer fill 

' The space around me— All shall be 
' Abundantly made up in thee. 

* What though' my present charms decay, 
' And passing strangers no more say 

' Of me. < Sweet flower !*— Yet thou shalt raiae 
[ Thy blooming head, and gain tha praise ; 


* Aftd tlib reverberated pleaaiire 

** Shall be to me a worUf of treasure. 

* Cheerful I part with former merit, 
^ That it my darling may inherit. 

* Haste then the hours which bid thee blooa, 

* And fill the zephyrs with perfume V 

Thus had the Rose-tree scarcely ipokeB* 
Cre the sweet cup of bliss was broken — 
The Gard'ner cau^e, and with one stroke 
He from the root the offspring took ; 
Took ftom the soil wherein it grew, 
And hid it from the parentis iriew. 

Judge ye who know « nother's caret 
For the dear tender babe she bears, 
TThe parent's anguish — ^ye alone 
Such sad vicissitudes have known. 

Deep was the wound ; nor slight the paia 
Which made the Rose-tree thus coniplam ;— 

' Dear little darling 1 art thou gone— 

* Thy charms scarce to thy mother known i 

* Removed so soon I — So suddenly, 

^ Snatch'd from my fond maternal eye 1 

^ What hast thou done ?— 4ear o&pring ! say, 

* So <!#Wjf id be snatch'd away ! 

* What ! gone for ee«r \ — seen ao more 5 

* Forever I thy loss deplore. 

* Ye dews descend, with tears supply 

* My now forever tearful oye ; 

* Or rather come some northern blasts 

* Dislodge my^ielding roots in haste. 

* Whirlwinds arise — my branches tear, 
' And to some distant legions bear 

* Far from this spot, a wretched mother, 

^ Whose fruit aim joys are gone together.'* 

Ai thqs the anguish'd Rose-treo cry'd. 
Her owner near her she espy'd ; 
Who in these gentle terms reproved 
A plant, thougn murm'ring, still belov*d :-^ 

< Cease, beaateous flow'r, these useless orieiy 
' And let my lessons make thee wise. 

* Art thou not mine ? Did not my hand 

* Transplant thee from the barren sav^ 

106 P£AROe's MBM0I1L8. 

Wbere once a mean unsightly plant, 
Exnos'd to injury and want. 
Unknown, and unadmir*d, I ft»und, 
And brought thee to this fertile cround ^ 
"With stuoioue art improv'd thy ronn, 
Seeur'd thee from the inclement storm. 
And through the seasons of the year,* 
Made thee my unabatkic care ? 
Hast thou Dot blest thy happy lot, 
In such an owner— such a spot ? 
But. now, because thy shoot IVe taken, 
Thy best of friends must be forsaken. . 
Know, flow'r belov'd, e*en this afflictioa 
Shall prove to thee a benediction : 
Had I not the young plant removed,. 
fSo fondly by thy heart belov'd) 
Of me tb}[ heart would scarce faaye thoogfit^ 
With gratitude no more be fraught : 
— Yea — thy own beauty be at stake 
Surrendered for thy eftpring's sake. - 
Nor think, thet, hidden from thine eyes^ 
The infiint plant neglected lies- 
No— Pve another garden, where 
In riehep soil and purer air 
It's now transplanted, there to shine. 
In beauties fairer far than thine. 

' Nor shalt thou alway be apart 
From the dear darline of thy heart ; 
For 'tis my purpose Unee to bear 
In fnture time, and plant thee there. 
Where thy now absent off-set gu)ws, 
And blossoms a celestial Rose. 
Be patient, then, tiil that set hour shall come, 
When thou and thine shall in new beauties bloom. 
No more its absence shalt thou then deplore. 
Together grow, and ne*er be parted more.' 

These words to silence hushed the plaintive Rose,. 
With deeper blushes redd'nin^ now she glows, 
fiubmissive bow'd her unrepinmg head, 
Again her wonted, grateful fragrance she4— 
Cry*d, ' Thou hast taken only what's thine own, 
* Therefore, thy will, my Lord, not mine, be done« 

rSAROs'8 MRMOIR*. lOf 

CHAP. IV. ^ 


Jin Account of his but Affliction^ and the holy 
and happy Exercises of his Mind under it. 

Early in October, 1798, Mr. Pearce at- 
tended at the Kettering ministers' meeting, and 
preached from Psalm xc. 16, ir. *^Let thy 
work appear unto thj servants, and thj glor j 
unto their children. And let the beautj of the 
liord our God be upon us ; and establish thou 
the work of our hands upon us ; yea, the work 
of our hands establish thou it" He was ob- 
served to be singularly solemn and affectionate 
in that discourse. If he had known it to be 
the last time that he should address his breth- 
ren in that part of the country, he could scarce- 
ly have felt or spoken in a more interesting; 
manner. It was a discourse full of instruc- 
tion, full of a holy unctioo, and that seemed to 
breathe an apostolical ardour. On hts return, 
he preached at Market Harborough ; avd rid- 
ing home the- next day in company with hia 
friend, Mr. Summers, of London, they were 
overtaken with rain* Mr. Pearce was wet 
through his clothes, and towards evening com* 

{»lained of a chillness. ' A slieht hoarseness fol- 
owed. He preached several times after this, 
which brought on an inflammation, and issuied in 
a consumption. It is probable that if his con- 
stitution had not been previously impaired, such 
effects might not have followed in this instance. 
His own ideas on this subject, are expressed in 
a letter to Dr. Ryland, dated December 4, 1798, 
and in another to Mr. King, dated from Bris- 
jtol| on his way to Plymouth, Itlaroh 30, 1799* 

In the former, lie says : ^^ Ever since mr 
Christmas journej last year to Sheepsbead, 
Nottingham, and Leicester, oHi the mission 
business, I have found my constitution greatly 
debilitated, in conse(|uence of a cold caught af- 
ter the unusual exertions which eircunwtanceB 
then demanded ; so that from a frame that 
could endure any weather, I have since been 
too tender to encounter a single shower wilhoat 
danger } and the duties of the Lord's daj, whicli 
as far as bodily strength went, I could perform 
with little fatigue, have since frequently over- 
come me. But the severe cold 1 caught in my 
return from the last Kettering ministers' meet- 
ing, has affected me so much, that I have some- 
times concluded I must give up preaching en- 
tirely ; for though my head and spirits are bet- 
ter than for two years past, yet my stomach is 
so very weak, that I cannot pray in my family 
without frequent pauses for breath ; and in the 
pulpit it is labour and agony, which must be felt 
to be conceived of. I have, however, made shift 
to preach sometimes thrice, but mostly only 
twice on a Lord's-day, till the last, when the 
morning sermon only, though I delivered it with 
great pleasure of mind, and with as much cau- 
tion as to my voice as possible, yet cost me so 
much labour as threw me into a fever till the 
next day, and prevented my sleeping all ni^t.^ 
In the fetter be writes thus : *^Should my life 
be spared, I and my family, and all my i^nnez- 
ions will stand indebted, under God;, to yon. 
YJnsttspectingof danger my self, I believe I should 
have gone on with my exertions, till the gr«v« 
bad received me. Your attention sent Mr. B* 
(thf ^pcriJbLecary) to me^ ai^d then first I teameid 


^prhat I Imltc since been increasingly convinced 
^{^^hfU I was rapidly destroying tne vital prin- 
4Ct|»/e. And the kind interest jou have taken ift 
my welfare ever since, has oflen drawn the grate- 
ful tear from my eye. May the God of heaven 
4ind earth reward yeur kivduess to his anworthy 
servant, and save yoa from all the evils from 
which your distingaished friendship would have 
9aved me." 

Such were his ideas. {lis labours were cer- 
tainly abundant; perhaps too great for his 
coasiitutioA : but it is probable that nothing 
was more injurious to his health, than a fre- 
<^uent expo.«ttre to night air, and an inatten- 
tion to the necessity of changing damp clothes* 

Hitherto we have seen in Mr. Pearce, the 
active, assiduous, and laborious servant of Jesus 
Christ ; but now we see him laid aside from his 
work, wasting away by slow degrees, patiently 
^nduring the will of God, and cheerfully wait- 
ing for bis dissolution. And as here is but lit- 
tle to narrate, I shall content myself with copj- 
in^ his letters, or extracts from them, to nis 
friends, in the order pf time in which they were 
written, only now and then dropping a few hints 
to furnish the reader with the occasions of some 
of them. 


Biffhingham, October 8, 1799* 

<< Oh I my dear brother, your letter of the ^th 
wbi^h I received this morning, hps made me 
thankful for alt my pulpit agonies, as they en- 
able me to we6p with a weeping brcrther^ Thej 
lm% beea of Uise to me in otti^er respect i par^ 


ticularljTy in teac\)ing me the importance of at* 
taining and maintainins that spiritualitj and 
pious ardour, in which I have found the most 
effectual relief $ so that, on the whole, I mast 
try to* glory in tribulations also.' I trust I 
often can when the conflict is past $ but to glory 
Hn^ them, especially in menial distress — hie 
labor, hoc opus est. 

*< But how often has it been found, that when 
ministers have felt themselves most embarrassed, 
the most effectual good has been done to the 
people. Oh for hearts entirely resigned to the 
will of God. 

*^ How happy should I be, could I always 
enjoy the sympathies of a brother, who is tried 
in these points, as I of late have been. S. P. " 


Birmingham^ October 29, 1796. 
<' I caught a violent cold in returning from 
our last Committee meeting, from which I have 
not yet recovered. A little thing now affects 
my constitution, which I once judged would be 
weather and labour proof for at least thirty 
years, if I lived so long. I thank God that I 
am not debilitated by iniquity. I have lately 
met with an occurrence, which occasioned nnQ 
much pain and perplexity. ***** Tri^iJls 
soften our hearts, and make us more fully prize 
the dear few, into whose faithful sympathizing 
bosoms we can with confidence pour our sor- 
rows. I think I should bless God formyaf- 
ffictionsy if they produced no other fruits than 
these,— the tenaen^ess diey inspire, and the 
friendship )s the^ enjoy. Pray, my dear brother, 
forygurj iffectioQfttely, S. P.^ 

pearoe's memoirs. hi 

To a jouo^ man ^o had applied to him for adrice, how he should hert 
in prove his tiine^ previous to bib going to the Bristol Academy. 

Birmingham, Kovember 13, 1798. 
My dear M , 

** I can only confess my regret at not reply- 
ing to yours at a much earlier period, and as- 
sure you that the delay ha$ been accidental, and 
not ciesi^ned. I feel the importance of your - 
request tor advice. I was sensible it deserved 
some consideration before it was answered. I 
was full of business at the moment. I put it by, 
and it was forgotten i and now it is too late. 
The time of your ^oing to Bristol draws nigh. 
If instead of an opinion respecting the best way 
of occupying your time before you go, you will 
accept a little counsel during your continuance 
tiiere, I shall be happy at any time to contrib- 
ute such a mite as my experience and observa- 
tion have put in my power. 

"At present, the following rules appear of 
M much moment, that were 1 toresume a place 
m any literary establishment, I would religious- 
ly adopt them as the standard of my conduct ; 
•—First, I would cultivate a spirit of habitual 
devotion. Warm piety connected with my 
studies, and especially at iny entrance upon 
them, would not only assist roe in forming a 
judgment on their respective importance, and 
secure the blessing oi God upon them; but 
would so cement the religious feeling with the 
literary pursuit, as might abide with me for 
life. The habit of uniting these, being once 
formed, would, I hope, be never lost $ and I 
am sure that without this, I shall both pursue 
trivial and unworthy objects, and those that are 
worthy I shall pursue ^r a wrong end. — St«« 

11 d PEARCC'S ttEKOnS. 

ondly, I would determine on a uniform sulmii^ 
8ion to the instructiena of mj preceptor, and 
study those things which would give him pleasure. 
If he be not wiser than I am, for what purpose d» 
I come under his care ? I accepted the pecuni- 
ar j help of tlie society on condition of conform* 
ity to its will ; and it is the Society's will that 
my tutor should soTern me. My example wUl 
have influence i let me not, by a single act of 
disobedience, or bv a word that implicates dis« 
satisfaction, sow the seeds of discord in the bo- 
soms of my companions. -^Thirdly, I woidd 
pray and strive for the power of self*goven- 
inent, to form no plan, to utter not a word, to 
take no step under the mere influence of pas-. 
sion. Let my judgment be often asked, and 
let me always give it time to answer. Let me 
always g^ard against a liffht or trifling spirit ; 
and particularly as I shau be amongst a num- 
ber of youths^ whose years wiU incline them all 
to the same frailty.--*Foitrthly, I would in ali 
my weekly and daily pursuits observe the strict- 
est order. Always let me act by a plan* Let 
every hour have its proper pursuit ; fr^m which, 
let nothing but a settled conviction that I can 
emjiloy it to better advantage, ever cause me te 
deviate. Let me have fixed time for prayer^ 
meditation, reading, laogua^es, correspondence,, 
recreation, sleep, &c. --Fifthly, ( would not 
only assign to every hour ks proper pursuit, \mi 
what! did, I would try to do it with all my 
might. The hours at such a place are precious 
beyond conception, till the student enters oi^ 
life's busy scenes. Let me set the best of my 
class ever before me, and strive to be better 
than they. In humility and diligence, let me 


«sm to be the first. ^-Sixthlj, I would particu- 
larfy AToid a versatile habit. In all things I 
v6uld persevere. Without this, I may l^ a 
gaud^ butterfly, but never, like the -bee, will 
my hive bear examining. Whatever J take in 
hand, let me first be sure I understand it, then 
duly consider it, and if it be good, let me adopt 
and use it. 

<* To these, my dear brother, let me add 
three or four things more minute, but which I am 
persuaded will help you much — Guard agaimt 
a large aequaintance while you are a student. 
Bristol friendship, while you sustain that char- 
acter, will prove a vile thief, and rob you of 
many an invaluable hour.«-^Ge/ two or three of 
the students^ whose piety you most approve^ to 
meet for one hour in a w^ek for experimental 
conversation^ and mutual prayer. I found this 
highly beneficial, though strange to tell, by some 
we were persecuted for our practice ! — Kieq> a 
diary. Once a week, at farthest, call yourself 
to an account : What advances you have made 
in your studies ; in divinity, history, languages^ 
natural philosophy, style, arrangement ; and 
amidst all, do not forget to inquire : Am I more 
fit to serve and to enjoy God than I was last week? 

S. P." 

<* On December 2, 1798, he delivered his last 
sermon. The subject .was taken from Dan. x, 
19. * Oh man, greatly beloved, fear not, peace be 
unto thee, be strong, yea, be strong. And when, 
he had spoken unto me, I was strengthened, 
and said. Let my Lord speak ^ for thou hast 
strengthened. me.' — ^^* Amongst all the Old 

K d 


Testament saints,'^ said he, in Mb inirodttttiBtt 
to that discourse, *^ there is not one whose ^ir^ 
tues were more, and whose imperfections wat'e 
fewer^ than those of DanieK Bj the historj 
givea of him in this book, which yet seems not 
to be coi9pIete« he appears to have excelled 
among the excellent.'^ Doubtless no one waft^ 
farther from his thoughts than himself ; several 
of his friends^ howeyer, could not help applj- 
ing it to him, and tiiat with a painful apprebeiU 
sidn of what followed soon dter. 


Birmingham^ December 4, 1798'. 

«<««.«^Ble88edbe €rod, mjmind is calm | an^ 
though my body be weakness itseUv niy spirits 
are good, and I can wrke as well as ever, though 
I can hardly speak two sentences without a 
pause. All is weB, brother! all is well,, for 
time and eternity. My soul rejoices in tbe 
everlasting covenant, ordered in all thidgs and 
sure. Peace from our dear Lord Jesus be witl^ 
your spirit, as it is (yea, more also) with your 
affectionate brother,. S. P.^' 

December 9^ 17^8, he was detained from 
publick worship, and wrote to Dr. Ryland the 
first of the letters which appear at thie close of 
his funeral sermion.»-*-The foliowing lines seem 
to have been composed on the same oceasion:— • 

« On beuig prevenlei bj stdaws from atteoKng on pvblick wonluy» 

Thb fabrick of nature is fair. 
Bat fairer l&e temple of grace ; 
To faints 'tb tbe jov of ttie eartfa*— 
Oh gloiiottSi beatttiral place { 

wmMMmH ueit/KMBm 115. 

To this iMOfli I oace did i«ipit, 
With crowds of Hw peoplo of God ; $ 
Enraptar'd, we •nterad its eonrti, 
Aod nail'A theiLedflMiier*! abode. 

The FaAer of natnve we pfau^d, 
And prostrated low at his throne ; 
The Saviour w iov*d aVid ador'd, 
Who lo9*d us and made us fak <mm. 

Full Oft to the meence of peace, 
To sinaers address'd from the akj, 
We ligten'd, enoHing that grace, 
Which set ue, once rebels, on high. 

Faith elvre to the orucify'd Lamb ; 
Hope, smiling, exalted its head ', 
Love warm'd at the Saviour's dear name, 
And vow'd to observe what he said. 

What pleasure appeared in the looke 
Of brethren and sjster^ around ; 
With transports ail seemM to reflect 
On the blessings in Jesos they*d found. 

Bweet n^pifnts \ If aught upon eanh 
Besemble the joys of tl^ skies, 
Tis thus when the hearts of the flock 
Conjohi'd to the Shepherd arise. 

Bat ah ! these sweet moments are fled^ 
Pale sickness compels me to stay 
Where no voice of the turtle is heard, 
As the moments are hasting away. 

Hv God ! thou art holy and good, 
Thy plans are all rixhteous and wise ^ 
Oh help me submissive to wait, 
Till thou biddest thy servant arise. 

If to ^l)ow thee here in thy courts, 
May it be with all ardour and zeal, 
With success and increasing delight 
Performing the whole of thy will. 

Or should thou in bondage detain, 
Tb visit thy temples no more. 
Prepare me for mansions above, 
Where nothing exista to deplore. 

1 16 PXARQ^'S'' MSM0IE8* 

Where Jesas, die San of the^^lae* 
Refulgent incessantlj sbinea, 
Eternally blessing his saints. 
And pouring delight on their mittds. 

There — ^there are no prisons to hoHl 
The captive from tasting delight ; 
There — ^there the d&y never is clos'di 
With shadows, or darkness, or night. 

There myriads and myriads shall meet, 
In our Saviour's high praises to join; 
Whilst transported we fall at his feet. 
And extol his redemption divine. 

Enough then ! my heart shall no more 
Of its present bereavements complain ; 
Siqce, ere long, I to glory shall soar, 
And ceaseless enjoyments attain !" 


BirTnmgham, Dee, 10, 1796. 

<* I am now quite laid by from pveacbing, and 
am so reduced in my internal strength, that I 
cam hardly converse with a friend for five min- 
utes without losing my breath. Indeed 'I have 
been so ill, that I thought the next ascent 
would be, nut to a pulpit, but to a throne, to 
the throne of glory. Yes, indeed, my friend, 
the religion of Jesus will support when Hesh 
and heart fail : and in my worst state of body, 
my soul was filled with joy. I am now getting 
a little better, though but very slowly. But 
fast or slow, or as it may, the Lord doth all 
things well. S. P." 


**— — I have overdone myself in preaching. 
I am now ordered to lie by, and not even to 


converief T?ithoiit great care ; nor indeed, till 
to-day^ have I for some time been able to utter 
a senteDce, ivithout a painful effurt. Blessed 
be God! I have been filled all through my af- 
fliction witb peace and joy in believing ^ and 
at one time, When I thought I was entering the 
valley of death, the prospect beyond was so 
full of glory, that but for the sorrow it would 
have occasioned to some who would he left be- 
hind, I should have longed that moment to have 
mounted to the sktes. Oh, my friend, what a 
mercy that 1 am not receiving the w^ges of 
sin $ that my health has not been impaired by 
vice ; Wt that, on the contrary, I am bearing 
in my boM the marks of the iord Jesus. To 
him be ail the praise! Truly I have proved 
that God is faithful: and most cheerfully would 
r take double the affliction for one hall of the 
joy and sweetness which have attended it. 
Accept a sermon which is this day published.^ 


SirminglMmf Dee, 14^ 1798. 

**— — I could tell you much of the Lord's 
goodness during my affliction* Truly .*his 
nriit hand hath been under my head, and his 
left embraced me.' And when I was at the 
worsts especially, and expected ere lon^ to 
have done with time, even rAen, such holy joy, 
such ineffable sweetness filled my souly that I 

* The iaat bat one be erer proaqbed, entitled; Monria 
TO Gratiti70x. It wa« deli vf red on the day of national 
thankajgiving, and printed at the jrequeat of «iA own coar 

118 PEARCe's MEM0IH8. 

would not have exchianged that sitaation fbr^anj 
besides heaven itself. 

*^ Oh, mj dear friends, let us live to Christy 
and lay ourselves wholly out for him whilst we 
live ; and then, when health and life forsake 
us, he will be the strength of oar heart, and 
our portion for ever. S. P." 

About this time, the congre»itioQ at Cannon- 
street was supplied for several months bj Mr. 
Ward, who is since gone as a missionary to 
India: here that amiable young m^n became 
intimately acquainted with Mr. Pearce, and 
conceived a most affectionate esteem for him. 
In a letter to a friend, dated January 5, 1799f 
he writes as follows :— 

*< I am happy in tlie company of dear broth- 
er Pearce. 1 have seen more of God in him, 
than in any other person I ever knew. Oh. 
bow happy should I be to live and die with him I 
When well, he preaches three times on a Lord's 
day, and two or three times in the week be- 
sides. He instructs the young people in ih€ 
•principles of religion, natural philosophy, as- 
tronomy, &c. They have a Benevolent Socie- 
ty, from the funds of which they distribute for- 
ty or fiftj^ pounds a year to the poor of the 
congregation. They have a Sick Society for 
visiting the afflicted in general : a Book Socie- 
ty at chapel : a Lord's- day School, at which 
betwixt two and three hundred children are 
instructed. Add to this, missionary business, 
visiting the people, an extensive correspon- 
dence, two volumes of mission history prepar- 
ing for the press, &c., and then you will see 
something of the soul of Pearce. He is every 

feajeice's memoirs. 119 

"where venerated, though but a youn^ man ; and 
all the kind, tender, gentle affections, make 
him as a little child at the feet of his Saviour. 

In February, he rode to the opening of a 
[Baptist meeting-house at Bedwortn ; but did 
not engage in any of the services. Here sev- 
eral ot his brethren saw him for the last time. 
Soon afterwards, writing to the compiler of 
these Memoirs, he says,— ^' The Lord's-day 
after I came hoihe, I tried to speak a little after 
sermon. It inflamed my lungs afresh, aud pro- 
duced phlegm, coughing, and spitting of blood. 
Perhaps I may never preach more. Well, the 
Liord's will be done. I thank him that^ever he 
took me. into his service ; and now, if he see 
fit to give me ft discharge, I submit." 

During the above meeting, a word was drop- 
ped by one of his brethren which he took as a re- 
flection, though nothing was farther from the in- 
tention of the speaker. It wrought upon his 
mind, and in a lew days after, he wrote as fol- 
lows : — << Do you remember what passed at B. P 
Had I not been accustomed to receive p/ain, 
friendly remarks from you, I should have 
thought that you meant to insinuate a reproof. 
If you did, tell me plainly If you dia not, 
it is all at an end. You will not take my 
naming it unkind, although I should be mistak* 
en, since affectionate explanations are necessa- 
rjr when suspicions arise, to the preservation of 
friendship ; and I need not say that I hold the 
preservation of your friendship in no small ac- 

l£b VEA&Ob's 1CBMVB8. 

The abore is copied, not only to set fhHh 
the spirit and conduct of Mr. Pearce in a case 
vrherein he felt himself a^rieved, but to show 
in how easy and amiable a manner thousands 
of mistakes might be rectifiedf and differ^ces 
prevented, bj a frank and timely explanation. 


^irminghemf Mnrek 4, 1799. 

** I could wish my sympathies to be as ex- 
tensive as human— I was going to say— H[and 
why. not P) as animal misery. The very limit* 
ed comprehension of the human intelligence 
forbids tnis indeed, and whilst I am attempting 
to participate as fkr as the news of afiBiction 
reaches me, I find the same events do not often 
produce equal feelings. We measure our sym- 
pathies, not by the causes of sorrow, but by 
the sensibilities of the sorrowful; hence 1 
abound in feeling on your account. The situ- 
ation of your family must have given distress 
to a president of any character ; but in you it 
must have produced agonies. I know the ten- 
derness of your heart : your feelin&s are deli- 
cately strong. You must feel mucn, or noth* 
ing; and he that knows you, and does not feel 
much when you feel, must be a brute. 

<*May the fountain of mercy supply you 
with the cheering stream ! May your sorrow 
be tumed^ntojoy! 

*< I am sure that I ought to value more than 
ever yoor friendship for me. You have remem- 
berea me, not merely in my afiBiction, bat in 
your own. Our friendship, our bettevolencc 
must never be compared with that of Jesos f 


hmt'it ifl )niljjdel»)itfal to diBciple tread- 
i^ thojigh at a HiunbLe digtance, in the foot- 
steps of a Master, who, amidst the tortures of 
^crucifixion, exercised forgiveness to his mur- 
dererSy and the tenderness of filial pietjr to a 
disconsolate mother! "When we realize the 
scene, how much do our imaginations embrace 
-^the peraoBs — ^the circumstances — ^the words^— 
* Woman, behold thy son ; John, behold thj 
mother!' S. P.»» 

9j the above letter, the reader will perceive^ 
that while deeply afflicted himself, he felt in 
the tenderestmanuer for the afflictions of others. 


March 23, 1799. 

He was now setting out for Plymouth ; and 
after observing; the great danger he was sup- 
posed to be in, with respect to a consumption, 
ne adds : — *^But thanks be to Ood, who giveth 
my heart the victory, let mv poor body be con- 
sumed, or preserved. In the thought of leav- 
ingf I feel a momentary gloom ; but in the 
tlipught of goingj a heaven^ trijumph. 

* Oh to grace how great a debtor t* 

^< Praise God with me, and, my dear 
brother, and let us not min4 dying any moie 
than sleeping. No, no! let every ChristiaA 
sing the loudest, as he gets the nearest to the 
presence of his God. Eternally yoni^ in Hin^ 
wbo hath wAshod u^ both, ija bis Uopd* S* P« ^ 


lil% PKAKOB'S UmMOtB9k 


Under the same date, he says,—** Mj af-. 
fliction has beea rendered sweet, by the sup- 
ports and smiles of Him whom I have served 
m the ffospcl of his Son. He hath delivered, 
he doth deliver, and I trust that he will jet 
deliver. Living or dying, all is well for ever. 
Oh what shall I render to the Lord!'' 

It seems, that in order to avoid woundine 
Mrs. P's feelings, he deferred the settlement w 
his affairs till he arrived at Bristol; from whence 
he wrote to his friend, Mr. King, requesting 
him to become an executor. Receiving a fa- 
vourable answer, he replied as follows :— - 

Bristol, April 6, 1799. 

**Your letter, just received, affected me 
too much, with feelings both of sympathy and 
gratitude, to remain unanswered a single post 
Most heartily do I thank you for accepting a 
service, which friendship alone can render a- 
greeable in the most siihple cases. Should that 
service demand your activities at an early pe- 
riod, may no unforeseen occurrence increase 
the necessary care! But may the Father of 
the fatherless, and Judge of the widows, send 
you a recompense into your own bosom, equal 
to all that friendship, to which, under God, I 
have been so much indebted in life, and repos- 
ing on whose bosom, even death itself loses part 
of its gloom. In you, my children will find 
another father— <in you, my wife another hus- 
band. Your tenderness will sympathize witfi 
the onoi under the most distressing s^nsibili- 


lies ; and your pradent counsels be a guide to^ 
tiie others^ through the unknown mazes of in- 
experienced youth. Enough— blessed God! 
My soul prostrates, and adores thee for such a. 
friend. S. P.'» 


Plym&uiky JiprU 18, 1799: 

<* The last time that I wrote to you was ai 
the close of a letter sent to you by brother Ry- 
land. I did not like that postscript form ; it 
looked so cardlike as to make me fear that you 
would deem it unbrotherly. After all, perhaps 
you thought nothing about it } and my anxieties^ 
might arise only from my weakness, which 
aeems to be constantly increasing my sensibil- 
ities. If ever I felt love in its tenderness for 
mv friends, it has been since my affliction. 
This, in great measure, is no more than the 
love of ^ publicans and harlots, who love those 
that love them.' I never conceived myself by 
a hundred degrees so interested in the regartls 
of my friends, as this season of affliction has 
manifested I was ; and therefore, so far from 
claiming any ^reward' for loving them in return^ 
I should account myself a monster of ingrati- 
tude, were it otherwise. Yet there is some- 
thing in affliction itself^ which, bv increasing 
the delicacy of our feelings, and detaching our 
thoughts from the usual round of objects which 
present themselves to the mind when in a state 
of health, may be easily conceived to make us 
susceptible ot stronger, and more permanent 
impressions of an affectionate nature. 

*^ I heard at Bristol, that you and your frienda 
had remembered me in your prayers, at Ketter* 


iDg. Whether the Lord whom we serve mvf 
see fit to ftiigwer your petitioiiB on my accmmt 
or not, may they tft leaait be retuniea into yov 
own bofioitfs. 

«< ¥<jr the sake of others, I should be hafpy 
could I assure you that my health was impro?- 
ing. As to myself, I thank God that I am 
not without a desire to depart, and to be 
with Christ, which is far better. I find that 
neither in sickness, n6r in heaTih, I c»n be so 
much as I wish like him whom I love. ^T^ 
die is ^in :' Oh to gain that state, ^ose feel- 
ings, that cha:racter, which perfebtl^ aficbrd 
with the mind of Christ, and are a^e^«BiI 
with the full persuasion of his cottt]|>lete and ef- 
erlastiDg approbation ! I want n6 heaven hM 
this ; and to gain this most glsidlj would I this 
moment exnire. But if to abide in the flesh be 
more needful for an ihdividuaT, 6f my fellow- 
men,— Lord, let thv #ill be done; only lei 
Christ be magnified by tnfe, whether in Hie ^ 

"I'h^ weii<h6r has bee* so wet arid wiiidV 
since I have been at Plyinouth, that I ttkld hor 
reasotiably expect to be much better ; and I 
clannot say th&t I am much worse. All fke fit- 
ttire is uncertain. Pirofessidnal irien encotrfsigc^ 
me $ but frequent returns appear, and occa- 
siohal discharges of blood ch^k my expecta- 
tions. If I speak but for two minutes, my 
breast feels as sore as though it were scraped 
with a rough-edged razor ; so that I ani mute 
all the day long, arid hkve actiially learned ta 
converse with my sister by means oi our fingers^ 

*< I thank you for yours of April 4th, which I 
did not recdve till ^e l^th^ the day that I ar- 

pmarob's memoirs. 1^ 

rived at Plymouth. On the IGth, acopjof yoar» 
to brother Ryland came to hand, to which I 
ahottld have replied yesterday, but had not 
leisure. I am happy and thankfal for your 
success. May theXord himself pilot the Cfi" 
terian safely to Calcutta river! 

** Unless the Lord work a miracle for me, I 
am sure that I shall not be able to attend the 
Olney meeting. It is to my feelings a severe 
anticipation ; but how can I be a Christian^ 
and not submit to Qod ? S. P." 


Plymouthy AprU 92, 1799. 

<^Mo8t affectionately do I thank ^ you for 
your letter, so full of information, and. of 
kiendship. To our common Friend, who is 
gone into heaven, where he ever sitteth at the 
right hand of God for us, I commend you. 
Whether I die, or live, God will take care of 
you till he has ripened you for the common 
salvation. Then shall I meet my dear brother 
Ward again i and who can tell how much more 
interesting our intercourse in heaven will be 
made by toe scenes that most distress our poor 
spirits here. Oh, had I none to live for, I had 
rather die than live, that I mav be at once like 
Him whom I love. But while he insures me 
grace— why should I regret the delay of glo- 
ry ? No : I will wait his will, who perform- 
eth all things for me. 

<^ My dear brother, had Fstrength, I should 
r-cjoice to acquaint you with the wrestlings and 
the victories^ the hopes and the fears, the pleas*. 

urea and ihe 'pangs, whidh Ihk^kUielj ekj^^ 
riehced. tiut I must forbear. All I cKn Utik 
say is, that God hath d6ne me much good lij^ 
all, and made me very thaiikftil for all&e hto 
done. Alas! I shall see jou no m6re. I tan- 
not be at Olney on the Tth bt May. l^e 
journey would be my death ; but the Lord 
whom you serve Will be With youthen, iitid ter 
ever. My love to all the dear asseniblro 
saints^ who will give you their beiiedictioDS at 
that solemn season. 

"Ever yours, S. P.'* 


PlyinMh, JfyrU iA, Ho^. 
Very dear Brother, 

<< My health is in much the same state a» 
when I wrote last, eiceptitig that my mbdcfilar 
strength rather ihcreases, and iliyjHirWerk ttf 
speakmg seem less and lessevlsry wtsi^k^ I 
have, for the tnbst part, spokeil duly ih Whte- 
pers fbr several days past $ and evtfn ihesfe 
seem too much for my irritkbl^ lungs, l^j 
fkther asked tne a i^uestion tb^ay ; he did Mt 
understand me when I Whispev^d ; do I WW 
obliged to utter one word, aha bbe W^ iimA^ 
a little louder, and that brottsht ^h k sdrenew, 
which I expert to feel till bed ti^e. 

«* I am still looking out lor fine Welitfaer i a!l 
here is cold and rainy. W^ have )iad but two 
or three fair and warm dayS Since I have ^h 
her« $ then I felt better. I am pisrftctfy At a 
tosis chmn to guess what tine Lord means to di» 
with me ; but I desihe to commit my wiy« ti» 
Urn, and be at peace* I aih gbing to-day about 

MA&OB'b MEMOt&Si 137 

Hire tnWtB ihto the cdontry fte Tamertcmy) 
H^h^e I shall await the will of God concerning 

- *<I knew ndt of any Cottimittee-meeting of 
our Society to be held respecting Mr* Marsh- 
man iitid his wife. I have therefore sent no 
Vdli&5 and indeed it is mj happiness that I have 
lUll i^onfid^ice in my brethren, at this impor- 
tailt critds, since close thinking or much writing 
alwitys increases my fever, and promotes my 

** My dear brother, I hope you will corres- 
poiid much with Kettering. I used to be a 
mediam^ but God has put me out of the way. 
I could Wt^ep that I can serve him no more : 
and yet I fear sotaiie would be tears of pride. 
Oh ror perfect likeness to my humble Lord! 

o* Mr* 


" TAmertofif May 2, 1799. 

^<— — Give my love to all the deat- pconle at 
Canhtm-street. Oh pray that He who afflicts^ 
would give me patience to endure. Indeed^ 
ihe state of suspense iii which I have been kept 
go long, i-enuires much of it $ and I often ex- 
<^1aim, erie I am aware. * Oh my dear people! 
ph my dear family! When shaft I be restored 
to you again !^ The Lord forgive all the sin of 
my desires! At times i feel a sweet and per- 
fect calm, and wish ev^er to live under the in- 
fluence of a belieir in the fOOinesB of God, and 
of idl liiii plans, and aH his works. S. P." 

The ^reader has isisen ti6W maich \vb re^ett«d 
being abseht frvftk the solemn designations ef 

128 PS&ROS^fl MEM0I&8* 

the mUftioiiaries at Olney^ He however ad' 
dressed the following lines to Mr. Fuller, which^ 
were read at the close of that meeting, to the 
dissolving of nearly the whole assemblj in 
tears : — 

Taffurtofif May 2, 1799. 

** Oh that the Lord^ who is unconfined 
by place or condition, may copiously pour oat 
upon yoa all the rich effusions of his Holy 
Spirit on the approaching day ! My most hearty 
love jto each missionary, who may then encir* 
cle the throne of grace. Happy men! happy 
women! you are soineto be fellow4abourerS' 
with Christ himself I I congratulate-^I almost . 
envy you ; yet I love you,, and can scarcely 
Qow forbear dropping a tear of love as each of 
your names passes across my mind. Oh wh&l^ 
promises are your,s ; and wnat reward! Surely 
heaven is filled with double joy, and resounf& 
with unusual acclamations at the arrival of 
each missionary there. Oh be faithful, my 
dear brethren, my dear sisters, be faithful unto 
death, and all this joy is yours! Lons as I 
IWe, my imagination ^U bi hovering over you 
in Bengal ; and should I die, if separate spirita 
be allowed a visit to the world they have ieft^ 
methinks mine would soon be at Mudnabatty, 
watching your labours, your conflicts, and' 
your pleasures, /Whilst you are always abound- 
ing in the work of the Lord. S. P.**^ 


My dear Brother, Plymouth, May 14, 1799. 

y Yours of the 11th instant I have just re- 
ceived, and thank you for your continued cob- 
com for your poor unworthy brother. 


'* I haVe nffiBred much in my health since I 
-^rote to yon last bj the increase ef mj fever-* 
iih eoiimtaintf which filled me with heat and 
htfrror »1 night, and in the daTr sometimes al- 
most sttffbcated me with the violence of it9 
jparofxysms. I am e^ttremely weak, and now 
that warm weather which I came into Devon 
to seek, I dread as ihnch as the cold, because 
it excites the fever. I am happy, however, in 
the Lord. I have not a wish to live or die, 
bnt as he peases. I truly enjoy die sospel of 
dtff Lord jMus Christ, and would ml ne Wtth^ 
cfilt his divihe aionemcnlt, wherein to rest my 
ifon), for ten thousand worlds. I feel quite 
-Weilned from e^rth, and ill things in it Death 
hath lost bis stins^ the grave its horrors $ and 
the attractions of heaven, I had almost sald^ 
are sometimes violent 

' Oh to grace how great a debtor!' 

^ *' But I am wearied. May all graee abound 
towards my dear brother, and his affectionate 

S. P." 


Plym&fUk, May 31, 1799. , 

^^ To the dear people of my tharge, the flock 
of Christ, assembling in Cannon-street, Bir- 
mingham — their afflicted but at^ctionate Pas- 
tor presents his loVe in Chtist Jesus, the great 
Shepherd of th^ sheep. 

Ify dearetft, deareit Friends and Brethren, 

** SejUiriEtted ^s I have been a loiig time from 
you^ and during that time of separation^ hav- 
ing suffered much both in body and mind, yet 

130 pearoe's mcmoirs* 

my heart has still been with you, |iartic^tiv 
in your sorrows, uniting in your prayers, ana 
reioicin^ with you in the hope of that glorr^ to 
which divine faithfulness has engaged to bring 
us, and ^or which our heavenly F'ather, bj aU 
his providences, and by every operation of his 
Holy Spirit, is daily preparing us. 

"Never, my dear brethren, did I so much 
rejoice in our being made ^ partakers of the 
heavenly calling,' as during my late afflictions. 
The sweet thoughts of glory, where I shall 
meet my dear Lord Jesus, with all his redeemed 
ones, perfectly freed from all that sin which 
now burdens us, and makes us groan from day 
to day,*— this transports my soul, whilst iNit of 
weakness I am made strong, and at times am en- 
abled to glory even in my midily infirmities, that 
the power of Christ, in supporting when flesh 
and heart fail, may the more evidently rest 
upon me. Oh, my dear brethren and sisters! 
let me, as one alive almost from the dead, let 
me exhort you to stand fast in that blessed 
gospel, which for ten years I have now preach- 
ed among you :— -the gospel of the grace of 
God ; the gospel of free, full, everlasting sal- 
vation, founded on the sufferings and death of 
God, manifest in the flesh. Look much at this 
all-amazing scene! 

' Behold ! a God descends and dies^ 
To save my soul from gaping hell •/ 

And then say whether any poor broken-hearted 
sinner need be afraid to venture his hopes of 
salvation on such a sacrifice ; especially, sincd 
He who is thus < might v to save,' hath said, 
that « whosoever cometh to him he will in no 
wise cast out.^' YoU| helovedi who have found 

n^BOB's MUfOIHS. 131 


fhto .peace^speaking virtue of this blood of atone- 
menty must not be satisfied with what you have 
alreadj kuown or enjoyed. -—The ooly way to 
be constantly happy, and constantly prepared * 
for the most awful changes, which we must all 
experience, is to be constantly looking and 
toming to a dying Savioor ; renouncing all our 
own worthiness ; cleaving to the loving Jesus 
as our all in all ; givins up every thing, howeyer 
valuable to our worldly interests, that clashes 
with our fidelity to Christ $ begging that of his 
fulness we may receive * grace upon grace,' 
whilst our faith actually relies on his power and 
-faithfulness, for the lull accomplishment of 
every promise in his word that we plead with 
him, and guarding against every thing that 
might for a moment bring distance and darkness 
between your souls, and your precious Lord. 
If you thus live^ (and oh that you may daily 
receive fresh life from Christ so to do !) ^ the 
peace of God will keep your hearts and minds,' 
and you will be filled with * joy unspeakable 
and full of glory.' 

^^ As a Ckurchj vou cannot conceive what 
pleasure I have enjoyed in hearing that you 
are in peace ; that you attend prayer-meetings $ 
that you seem to be stirred up of late for the 
lionour and prosperity of religion. Gro on in 
these good ways, my beloved friends, and as- 
suredly the God of peace will be with vout 
Yea, if after all I should be taken entiriely from 

iron, yet God will surely visit you, and never 
eave you, nor forsake you. 

<< As to m^ health, I seem on the whole to 
be still mending, though but very slowly. The 
fever troubles me often both by day and night jj^ 



-fottt Ukj strotttfi {acreaaes. I long to «ee y<wr 
faces m the teA $ jea, when I thought qi jaelf 
Aear the gftteaof the grave, I wiahed, if it wece 
•the Lord^ will, to depart among those wJiOBi 
I «o much loved. But I am in good lumd49 ^^ 
all must be ri^ht 

<<I thank both jou and the congre^aition 
roost affectionately, forall the kindness you have 
ahewn respecting me and my jfamily, during niy 
absence. The Lord return it a thousand fold! 
My love to every one, both old and youog, rich 
and poor, as thoueh named. The Lord tuess to 
your edification me occasional ministry which 
•you enjoy. 1 hope you regularly attend upon 
•It, and keep together, as * the horses in Pha- 
raoh's chariot' I pray much for you: praj, 
still pray for your very affectionate, thou^ un- 
worthy, pastor. S. P." 

In a postscript to Mr. King, he says, << I 
have made an effort to write this letter ; my 
affections would take no denial ; but it hai^ 
brought on the fever. " 

It seems to have been about this time that he 
wrote the following lines, which have appeared 
in several periodical publications, but with 
many inaccuracies :— 


*^ In the floods of fribulntion, 

While the billows o'er me roll, 
JetiM whispers coosolatioo. 

And supports my fiiinting soul : 
Thus the liop yields me honey. 

From the eater food is given ; 
Strengtben'd thus, I still press forward, 

Singing as I wflide (0 hMV6n,<— 

8wMt ■fflietion ! MMet ailMtiftih 
That l»iiigp Imub to iny mmiI ! 

*Mid 4be gloom the iMd lightaiiifi 

With iocreMed brigbtness piny ; 
'Mid the thorabrake, beauteous flow'retf 

Look more beautiful and gay ', 
So, in darkest dispensations, 

l>oth my faitbliil Lo«d appear, 
With his richest eonsolatioiif , 

To re*antmate and cheer. 

Sweet a^iction ! sweet affliction. 
Thus to bring my Saviour near ! 

■Fk)ods of tribulation heigfaten, 

Billows still around me roar ; 
Those that know not Christ — ye frighten, 

But my soul defies your pow*r. 
■ In the sacred page recorded, 

Thus his word securely stands^^— 
'^ Fear not, I'm in trouble near thee, 

Nought shall pluck thee from my hands.'' 

Sweet affliction ! sweet affliction, 
That to such sweet words lays claim ! 

All I meet I £nd assists me 

In my path to heavenly joy^ 
Where, though trials now attend me. 

Trials never more annoy : 
Wearing there a weight of gloiy, 

Still ihe path I'll ne'er forget ; 
■But, reflecting bow it led me 

To my blessed Saviour's soat, 

Cry, '^Affliction ! sweet affliction ! 
Haste ! bring more to Yesus* feet V^ 

Towards the latter end of Mitf , whea Mr* 
Ward) and hU companions, were just ready to- 
aet saiU a consultation concerning Mr. Pearce 
was held on board the Criterion^ in which aU 
the missionaries^ mid some of the members of 
the Siip^ Missiooary Society w^re 


194 ^ i^xAaos's ifSMOtJis*'' 

It was well known that he bad for seT^ral 
years been engaged in preparing materials for 
a History of MUHons^ to be comprised in two 
Tolumes octavo : and as the sending of the 
gospel among the heathens had so deeply oc- 
cupied his hearty considerable expectations had 
been formed by religious people, of his produc- 
ing an interesting work on the subject. The 
question now was, could not this performance 
be finished by other hands, and the profits of 
it be appropriated to the benefit of Mr. Pearce's 
family r It was admitted by all, that this work 
would, partly from its own merits and partly 
from the great interest which the author justly 
possessed in the publick* esteem, be very pro- 
ductive ; and that it would be a delicate and 
proper method of enabling the religious pub- 
lick, by subscribing liberally to it, to afford 
substantial assistance to the family of this ex- 
cellent man. The result was, that one of the 
members of the Society addressed a letter to 
Idr. Pearce's relations, at Plymouth, requesting 
them to consult him as he should be able to 
bear it, respecting the state of his manuscripts; 
and to inquire whether they were in a condi- 
tion to admit of being finished hj another 
hand $ desirine them suso to assure him, for 
his present relief concerning his dear family, 
that whatever the hand of friendship could ef- 
fect on their behalf, should be accomplished. 
The answer, though it left no manner of hope 
as to the accomplishment of the object, yet 
is so expressive ot the reigning dispositions of 
the writer's heart, as aii affectionate husband, 
a tender father, a grateful friend^ and a sin- 
cere Christian^ that U cannot be uxontmBtiBg 
to the reader :«- 

yearoe'8 VKMOIRS*' ISS 

TajMrtoUfJiau ^fV799, ^ 

***i*o use the common introduction of *dear 
1>rother,' would fall so far short of my feelings 
towards a friend, whose uniform conduct has 
ever laid so great a claim to my affection and 
gratitude ; but whose recent kindness^-— kind- 
ness in adversityif'-^ndness to my tm^e,— 
kindness to my ci^iMrm— --kindness that 
iv^uld go far to ^ smooth the bed of death,' has 
overwhelmned my whole soul in tender thank- 
iulness, and engaged my everlasting esteeni. 
I know not how to begin. . . . ^'Aought is 
poor, and poor expression ;' The ordi/ thing 
that lay heavy on my heart, when in the near- 
est prospect of eternity, was the future sTtua- 
"fion of my family. I had but a comparatively 
small portion to leave behind me, ana yet that 
little was the all that an amiable woman, 
delicately brought up, and, through mercy, for 
the most part comfortably provided for since 
<she entered on domestic life, — ^with five babes 
to feed, clothe, and educate, had to subsist on. 
Ah, what a prospect! Hard and long I striove 
to realize the promises made to the widows 
and the fatherless $ but these ahne I could not 
fallv rest on and enjoy. For niy own part, 
QiA was indeed very gracious. I was willing, 
I hope, to linger in suffering, if I might thereby 
most glorify him, and death was an angel whom 
I longed to come and embrace me, * cold' as 
his embraces are. But how eould I leave 
those who were dearest to my heart in the midst 
of a world, in which, although thousands now 
professed friendship for me, and, on my account, 
tor mine ; vet after my decease, would, with 
few ei^ceptionS) soon n>rget my widow and my 

chfldvea ftVMiis tbe^ crowds of the needy ind 
dislressed.—- It was at this moment of pauifiil 
•ensibiKt^ that pi^ur heart meditated a plan to 
remove mj an»etiea ;-Hi plan too that would 
hiTolve much personal labour before it could be 
accomplished. * Blessed be God^ who put it 
into thj heart» and blessed be thou.' May the 
Messing of the widow and the fatherless rest 
on you and yours fbreven Amen, and amen! 

** Tott wUl repet perhaps that I have taken 
op so much room respectii^ yourself^ but 1 have 
seareely (ratified the sluidow of my wishe& 
Excuse then on the one haad, that I nave said 
so muchf and accept on the other, what remains 

*<My affections and desires are among mr 
dear people at Birmingham ; and unless 1 find 
my strength increase here, i purpose to set out 
for that ^ce in the course of a fortnight, or 
at most a month. The journey, performed by 
short stj^s niay ^o me good : 'il ndt, I expect 
^hen tho winter comes to sleep in peace : and 
it will delight my soul to see them once more be- 
fore I die. Besides, I have many little arrange- 
ments to make among my bool» and papers, 
to prevent confusion after ray decease. Ii»- 
deed, till I get home, I Cannot fully answer 
your kind letter ; but I fear that my materials 
consist so much in references, which none bnt 
myself would understand, thi^t a second person 
could not take it up, and prosecute it. t am 
still equally indebted to you for a proposal so 
generous, so laborious* 

*^ Rejoice with ine that the blessed gospel still 
^ bears my spirits up.' I am become familial 
with the thoughts ot dying* I have taken my 

fbaroe's mxhoir&T 1ST 

leave often with the world ; (^nd thanks be to 
God, I do it always with tranquillity^ and often 
ivith rapture. Qb, what grace, what^race it was,, 
that ever called uie to be a christian! What 
would have been my present feelings, if I were 
going to' meet my God with all the filth and 
foad of my sin about me! But God in my na- 
ture hath put my sin away, taught me to love 
him, and long for his appearing. Oh, my dear 
brother, how consonant is everlasting praise 
with such a great salvation! S. P." 

. After this, another letter was addressed to 
Mr. Pearce, informing him more particularly 
that the above proposal did not originate with 
an individual, out with several of the brethren 
who dearly loved him, and had consulted on 
the business ; and that it was no mqre than an 
act of justice to one who had spent his life in 
serving the publick ; also requesting him to 
give directions by which his manuscripts might 
be found and examined, lest he should be taken 
away before his arrival at Birmingham. , To 
this he answered as follows :— * 

Plymouth, July 6, 1799^. 

^<I need not repeat the growing sense I have 
of your kindness, and yet I know not hpw to 

** I cannot direct Mr. K^— to all my pa- 

fers, as many of them are in books from which 
was making extracts ; and if I could, I am 
persuaded that thev are in a state too confused, 
incorrect, and unnnished, to suiSer you or anjT 
other friend to realize your kind intentions. 

** I have possessed a tenacious memory. I 
have begun one part of the history ^ read the 

necessart books i reflected $ arrafiged ; wHt- 
ten, perhaps, the introdaction ; aAd the&y 
trtrstine to my recollection, with the retisal of 
the books as 1 should want them, haVe employ^ 
ed tnjself in getting materi&ls fot another 
part, &c. Thns, till mj illness, the TOlumei 
existed in ihj head,— -mjr books werd at hand, 
and I was on the eve of writing them out, ifvheti 
it pleased (jod to make me pause : and, as 
close thinking has been strongly forbidden me, 
I dare say, that were I again restored to health, 
I should find it necessary to go OYer modi of 
my former reading to refresh memory. 

<* It is now Saturday. On Monday next wft 
propose settii^ out tm our retam. May th« 
Lord prosper our way! Accept the 8ineet% 
aflfection, and the ten diousaikd tnanks, of your 
bro&er in the Lord, B* P*" 

As the manuscripts wer^tound to b^ in sudi 
a state, that no person, except the author him- 
self, could finish them, the desi|;n was neces- 
sarily dropped. The |>iiblick mmd, however^ 
was deeply impressed with Mr. Pearce^s worfii, 
and that, which the friendship of a few could 
Dot effect, has since been amply accomplished 
by the liberal exertions of many. 


Bitminghamf Juty 36, 1799. 

** it is Mi with common feelings that I be*> 
«n a letter to ymi. Your name brines so many 
interesting circumstances of my life oefbre ttie, 
in which your friendship has been so uniformly 
and eminently displayed, that now, amidst the 
imbecflities of sickness, and tiie serious proa*> 

PBAROE^S IfZttOIltS. 139 

pect of anoiber w«r)<l, niy h«ait is OTerwhelm- 
ed with gratitude, whilst it glows .with affec- 
tieii,*-aii aflfectioD which eteroity shall not an- 
nihilate, but improve* 

*« We reached Bristol on the Tridaj after 
we parted from you* having suited our proglress 
to my strength and spirits* We staid with 
Bristol friends, till Monday, irfien we pursued 
ottr journey, and went comfortably on, till the 
uncommonly rough road from Tewkesbury to 
Evesham quite jaded me $ and I have not yet 
recovered from the excessive fatigue of uiat 
miserable ride. At Alcester we rested a day 
and a half^ and, through the abundant goodness 
of God, we safely arrived at Birmingham on 
i'riday evening, the 19th of July*^^ 

*<I feel an undisturbed tranqulllify of soul^ 
and am cheerfully waiting the will of God. My 
voice is gone, so that I cannot whisper without 
pain } and of this circumstance I am at times 
most ready to complain. For, to see my dear 
and amiable Sarah look at me, and then at die 
ehildreB, and at length bathe her face in tears, 
without my being able to say one word of com- 
forl,^Oh 1 !.*..,.. ¥et the Lord supports 
ase under this also $ and I trust will sapport m^ 
to Ae end. &. R" 


<««..^.«^{ am now to all «ppearanoe within a 
few st^ of eternity* In Cliritft I aal safe. Ill 
him i am happy. I trust we shall meet in 
heaven. 8. P.'» 

S40 ycaaob'^s memoirs;. 



Birmingliam, August 1, 1799^ 

MHuch disappointed that 1 am not released 
from thig world of sin^ and put in possession of 
the pleasures enj.oyed by the spirits of just men 
made perfect, I once more address my deaPfel- 
low heirs of that glory which ere long shall be 
rereaied to us all. 

*< We returned from Devon last Friday week* 
I was exceedingly weak, and for severaV days 
afterwards got rapidly worse. My friends com- 
pelled me to trr another physician. I am stiH 
told that I sfaaii recoyer. Be that as it may, I 
^sh to haye my own will annihilated, that die 
"will of the Lord may be done. Through his 
abundant grace, I have been, and still am hap- 
py in my soul ; and I trust my prevailing desire 
IS, that living or dying I may be the Lord's. 



On ku iMviag wnk hima Mint of Ifr. Sbwarti, Chs motionary ob iImt 

Malabar coast. 

Birminghaviy August 16, 1799. 

^<0n three accounts was your last parcel 
highly acceptable. It represented a man, whom 
I nave long been in the habit of loving and re- 
vering ; and whose character and labours I in- 
tend^, if the Lord had not laid his hand upon 
Bie by my present illness, to have presentea to 
the publick in Europe, as he himself presented 
tiiem to the millions of Asia. The execution 
bearing so strong a likeness to the original, 
heightened its value. And then, the hand from 
vrhence it came, and the friendship it was in* 
tended to ezpreasi add to its worth. S. P.*^ 

VBAILOB'3 MlfllOIftfl* 141 


JtrmtR^JIiMi, Augutt 19^ 1799. 

** He doctor has been making me worse and 
weaker for three weeks. In the middle of the 
last week be spoke confidentl j of mj recorerj ; 
but to day he has seen fit to alter his plans $ 
and if I do not find a speedy alteration for the 
better, I mmst have done wiA all physicians, 
but him, who < healeth the broken in heart' 

<* For some time after I came home, I was 
led. to believe my case to be consamptiye, and 
then thinking myself of a certainty near the 
Idn^om of heaven, I r^oiced hourly in tiie 
delightAiI prospect. 

«« Since then, I have been told tliat I am 
tiot in a dangerous way ; and thoush I give very 
iittle credit to such assertions in this case, yet 
I have fbund my mind so taken up with eartik 

a^in, that I seem as though I had another soqt. 
y spiritual pleasures are ^eatly interrupted, 
and some of the most plamtive parts of the 
most plaintive Psalms seem the only true lan- 

ria^ of my heart. Tet, * Thy will be done,' 
trust prevails ; and if it be the Lord's will 
that I linger long, and suffer much, Oh let him 

e*ve me the patience of hope, and still his will 
! done.-— I can write no more. This is a whole 
day's wprk : for it is only after tea that for a 
few minutes I can. sit up, and attend to any 
thing. S. P." 

. From the latter end 9i August, and all thi^ough 
the month of September, to the tenth of Octo- 
ber, /Ae dsjy on which he died^ he seems to have 
been vnaUe to write* He did not, howeveri 



lose the exercise of his mental powers f antf 
though TQ the last of the above letters he coos' 
plains of darkness, it appears that he soon, re- 
covered that peace and joy in God, bj which 
his affliction, and even Ids life, were distill 

Four excellent letters addressed to Dr. Rj- 
land, Mr. Pope» and Mr. King, appear at the 
end of hb funeral sermon, publbhed by Dc 
Jftyland, together with various short seiitences^ 
nrhich he dropped during the last five or six 
^eeks of his^ Ufe» And as the readers of the 
Sermon will probably wish to have it boui^d up 
ivith these memoirs, both are connected togeth- 
er for that purpose. 

A little before he died, he was visited by Mr. 
Medley, of London, with whom he had been 
particularly intimate on his first comine to Bic- 
mingham. Mr. Pearce was much arccted at 
the sijght of his friend ; and continued silently 
weeping for nearly ten minu^tes, holding' and 
pressing his hana. After this he spoke, or 
rather,, whispered as fellows ; — **This sick bed 
is a Bethel to me ; it is none other than the 
house of God,, and the gate of heaven. I can 
scarcely express the pleasures that I have en- 
joyed in this affliction. The nearer I draw to 
my dissolution, the happier I am. It scarcely 
can be called an affliction, it is so counterbal- 
anced with joy. You have lost your pious 
father; tell me how it was." Here Mr. Med- 
ley informed him of particulars. He wept much 
at the reeital, and especially at hearii^ of his 
last words,—*' Home, Home !'' Mr. Sf edley 
telling him of some temptations he had lately 
met with, he charged him takeep near to Qod^ 

^'--^^ Keep close to God," said he, << and noth- 
ing will hurt you." 

The follovring familiar compositions, which 
were found amongst Mr. Pearce's papers, ap- 
pear to have been written at distant intervals :-— 

*ieM$ Olvift'ear I<«rd, WthUiein and oon.' 1. Cor. L % 

** SwiET are the gifts which gracious Heav*n 

On true believers pours ; 
But the beet giil is ^ace to know 

That Jesus Christ is 9urs, 

Cur Jems! what rich drops of bliss 

Descend in copious show'rs. 
When rain'd dinners, such as we, ' 

By fiuth can call him eur^» 

Differ we may in age and state, 

Learning and mental pow'rs^ 
But all the saints may join and shout, 

Disar Jesus ! thou art ours. 

Let those who know our Jesus kiot, - 

Delight in eaifth's gay flow'rs ; 
We, elor^ing in our better lot, 

Kejoice that Ha is ours. 

When hope, with elevated flight, 

Tow'rds heaven in rapture tow'rSi * 

^Tis this supports our vent'rous wing, 
We know that Christ is ours. 

Though providence, with darkening sky, 

On tilings terrestrial low'rs. 
We rise superior to the gloom 

When singing, Christ is ours. 

Time, which this world, with all its joys, 

With eager haste devours. 
May take inierior things away. 

But Jesus still is ours. 

Haste then dull time, and terminate 

Thv slow ravQlvins hours ; 
We wish, we.piay, we long, we put. 

In kwf% to call biftt ovBf ! 

144 PEAilOB^S BfEMOIRib- 

KpIamDealmg with a Bsckilidiag Be«^ 

« Stupid soul, to folly cleaTing, 
Why baa God no more thy heart r 

Whr art Ibou thy merciea teaving ;. 
Why miift tho« with 9tsns part ^ 

b there in thia wovM exiitii^ 
Aught with Jesuvto compare ; 

Yea, ean heaven Itietfpvediiee oar 
Half B» loTely, half ae fair ? 

Ah t I00& hack npoii the eeaflon, 
When thy aocrl the Saviotir 4bow^ 

For thy poition, and thy amrit 
Pid with lus salvatioR'Cioae. 

Ah r remember thine e > p o» a a la^ 
Did thou not with CHnriat afnv, 

Learing all thy fbniMr tovenii 
H» and his alone to he ? 

Id hia love thy wm'H evaidBg^ 

What did all Wow appear; 
Was there aught «e0m'd worth poaaearaii^ 

Worthy of a hope or fear B 

When thy heart, hy grace inatrueted^. 
Learnt the wofld to diaeateem. 

And to Christ for all feaorted, 
Wat there not ^hdogh in him f 

yes ; tben'kiiowlst thy ioyM spiri( 

Knew QO unfolfiiHd-deaife ; 
Longing stiUy and still receiving 

Fuel for the beav'nly fire. 

Why then, tell me, now so fifhlev. 
Why this heay'Bly fountain leave i 

Why to broken cktems seeking, 
Cisterns that no water give ? 

Doth not disappomtnent follow 
Ev'ry step that leada from God ; 

Have not piercing thorns «iid hdacs 
Shown their points through aU-th^ Nfttf ? 

Recollect ^tis thus, the Saviour 

Bays he will thy sou) reclaim, 
With weepinff >aiicl wirh supplioatio*. 


^* 8w«sT P«aee, naimm i thj wonted bliw fwtora^ 
Hid war's iawtiatg acaarae preya'd no More> 
dheath the dread sword that deals destruction ronndy. 
And erery ear salate with tranqail sound ! 
CNi 1 hid eppression from each land retire, 
And Britain's sons with halcyon bliss inspiM; 
Remove the mia'ry of doiiesUek woes, 
And hush the tiunult of eontendins foes ! 
I^et each, with patriot xeal, afl strift disewn* ; 
Be one their wishes, and therr motives one ! 
The widew'atesra^ her sad cecrodiag caie^^ 
The orpl^n's sigha^ assiat this avdeni pray'f ; 
Bfajr he on whom propitious fortune smiles, 
'Reueve that breast which adverse fate beguiles ! 
May virtue's impulse ev'ry purpose move, 

^Q BCtM of fQN>dilflaS, VWItKMMh LOVB V* 


Omerul (hiilineB of hi» Character^ 

To devel(q[^ the chamcter of any person^ it 
» Beceosary tp cUtef nriue what was biB gsfetn* 
iM priociplef If tliis can be clearl j asoerteiB* 
ecH ve stuUl easily accouot for the teaor of bis 

The irovenung principle in Mr. Pearce» be«^ 
jond all doubt, i)ras holt lovb. 

To mention tUs is sufllcieaito prove it t#aU 
wbo knew him. His friends have often cons- 

Bired him to ihat dUdpk whom Jesui loved. 
is reli^n was that of the heart Almost 
every thing be fawy^or beards or read^ or stuA- 
ied« was converted to the feeding of this divuie 
flame. iSvery subject that passed through his 
bimfM ft^Msed to ha^ been cast into this mouldy 


146 tZA^C^H MBMOlKt 

Thines, that to a merely speculative tniod 
woold have furnished matter onlj for Cttriosib|r, 
to him afforded materials for devotioii. um 
sermons were generally the effusions of his 
hearty and invariably aimed at the hearts of his 

For the justness of the &,bove remarks^ I 
might appeal not only to the letters which he 
addressed to his friends, but to those which his 
friends addressed to him. It is worthy, of ho- 
tice how much we are influenced in our cor- 
respondence by the turn of mind of the person 
we address. If we write to a humourous char- 
acter, we shall generally find th^t what We 
write, perhaps without being conscious of it, 
will be interspersed with pleasantries : or if to 
one of a very serious cast, our letters will be 
more serious than usual. On this principle, it 
has been thought, we may form some judgment 
of our own spirit by the spirit in which our 
friends address us. These remarks will apply 
%ith singular propriety to the correspondence 
of Mr. rearce. In looking over the first Vol- 
ume of Periadical Accounts oj the Baptist J^Bg- 
sion^ the reader will easily perceive the most 
affectionate letters from the missionaries are 
those which are addressed to him. 

It is not enough to say of this affectionate 
spirit, that it formed a prominent feature in his 
character-^it was rather the life-blood that an- 
imated the whole system. He seemed, as 
one of his* friends observed, to be baptized in 
it It was holy lave that gave the tone to bis 
general deportment : as a don, a subject, a 
neighbour, a Christian^ a minister, a pastor, a 
irlend, a husband^ and a father, he was mam- 

iEpMj go? emed by thU principle ; and tliis it 
vaa that produced in him that loTely uniformi- 
ty of character, which constitutes the true 
beauty ofhoHness. 

Bj the grace of God he was what he was } 
and to the honour of grace; and not for the 
glory of a sinful worm, be it recorded* Like} 
all other men, he was the subject of a deprav- 
ed nature* He felt it, and lamented it, and 
longed to depart, that he might be freed from- 
it : but certainly we have seldom seen a char- • 
acter, taking him altogether, ^* whose excelien-' 
cies were so many, and so uniform, and whose ^ 
imperfections were so few.'? We have seen' 
men rise hi^ in contem^ation, who have a- 
bounded but littie in action. . We have seen* 
zeal mingled with bitterness, and candour de**' 
generate into indifference $ experimental re* 
n^on mixed with a ku^e portion of enthusiasm,^ 
iind what is called rational religion void of ev- 
ery thing that interests the heart of man. We- 
have seen splendid talentsi tarnished with in-^> 
sinffierable pride, seriousness with melancholy, > 
obeerfttlness 'with levity, and great attainments. 
in veligion.with uncharitable censoriousness to- 
wards men of low degree : but we have not 
seen these things in our brother Pearee. . ' 
. There have been, few men in whom has been 
united. a greater portion of the contemplative' 
and the active ; holy seal and genuine candour ^' 
spirituality and rationality ; talents that at-- 
tracted almost universal applause, and the mosti 
unaSeoted modesty; faithfulness in bearings, 
teatimony. against evil, with the temlerest^ 
compassion to the soul of. the evil doer; iorti-; 
tude that would encounter any difficulty in the 

vaj lif diHfcj, -viihmtft uljr Abor Miler««^ 
Miflj, or oTlBibeariag ^ dee^ wrWiiBiieis, ^vMi 
habitual cheerfulncas ; aiid a caaatant aim t(» 
promote the highest degrees of piety in hisiadf 
and others, with a readinesa t6 nope the beat of 
the lowest ; not breaking the brtased reed^ mr 
gu^thinf; the smoking flax. 

Me loved the Divine thamcter ae revealed in 
the Scrifftures* To adore God, ta contemplate 
his ^onotts perfections, io enjoj his favoor^ 
and t^ aubmit to bis dispasal, were his higkeai 
delight* *^ I felt^"saj6 he, when eohiemphit* 
iog the faardshipB of a tnissionarj life, *^ ihak 
yrere the universe defetroyed, and I the «nlj 
hm^ in tt beshles God, he is fullj adtequata 
te my complete happiness ; and had I beea oi 
an^ Africaft wood, sarroanded with -remnnoiia 
aerpetits, devottrtng beasts, and savage meii^ 
in such a firamc,' i niouM be the isali^eet of por* 
feci peace and ekaited joy. Yes, O my Gad! 
thoa na^ tau^t me that ^am aione art worthy 
of my Gonfideace ; Mid with tlik aentiraeat fix-^ 
ed in my heart, 1 am freed from all soltcttade 
atxmt my temporal concerns. U'thy praseiice 
be eqoyed, peirerty shall be ridies, darknesa 
]%kt^ affliction prosperitr, reprctech my ben-* 
our, and iit^e my rest!" 

ffe hved the gospd. The trutbs ^ick he 
believied and tain^t, dwelt riphly in him, in all 
wiadom and spiritual underitandiBg. The 
reader will rtcolleet how he went over this 
great principles of Christianity, examining the 

Euiidson which he reated, in the first u{ those 
jM whkh he devoted to solemn fastn^ and 
prayer in reference to his becomieg a nusemi** 

p&arob's mxkouuu 14p 

axy ;* and with what ardent affection 4ie set hit 
&eni anew tp everj part of divine truth as he[ 
^nrent along. 

If salvation had been of works, few men,' 
according to our way of estimating characters,^ 
bad a fairer claim : but, as he himself has re- 
lated, he could not meet the king of terrors ia 
this armour.t So far was he from placing anj 
dependence on his own works, that the more he. 
dia for i&od, the less he thought of it in such a 
way. **A11 the satisfaction I wish for here,"^ 
says he, ** is to be doino; my heavenly Father's' 
wilt. I hope I have found it my meat and. 
drink to do his work ; and can set to my seal,, 
that the purest pleasures of human life spring 
from the humble obedience of faith. It is a 
good saying, * We cannot do too much for 
uod, nor trust in what we do too little^' < I find 
a growing conviction of the necessity of a free 
salvation. The more I do for God, the less I. 
think of it ; and am progressively ashamed that 
I do no more." 

Christ crucified was his darling theme, from 
first to last This was the subject on which 
he dwelt at the outset of his ministry among 
^e Coldford colliers, when *<He could scarce- 
ly speak for weeping, nor they hear for inter- 
rupting sighs and sobs ;" this was the burden 
of the song when addressing the more polished 
and crowded audiences at Birmingham, Lon- 
don and Dublin ; this was the grand motive 
exhibited in sermons for the promotion of pub- 
lick charities $ and this was the rock on waia 
he rested all his hopes, in the prosper 

^Soo €bap. II. p. 47. t Chap, I; p. 1§. 


death. It is true, as we have seeiii he 
thakeu for a time bj the writings of a Whitby 
und of a Pfieatley ; but this trannent hesita- 
tion, bj the OTerniling grace of God, tend- 
ed only to establish him more firmlj in 
fte end. ** Blessed be his dear iiame,'' aays 
he, under his last affliction, ** who shed hia 
blood for me. He helps me to rqoice at timet 
with Joj unspeakable. Now I see the value of 
fiie religion of the cross. It is a religion for a 
dying sinner. It is all the most guiity and 
&e most wretthed can desire. Yes, I tatte 
its sweetness and enjoy its fulness, with aU 
the gloom of a dying bed before me; and far 
rather would I he the poor emaciated and ema- 
ciating creature that I am, than be an emperor 
with ^very earthly good about him, bat withr 
out a God.^ 

Notwithstanding this, however, there were 
Ihose in Birmingham, and other places, wh* 
would not allow that he preached the gospel* 
And if by the gospel were meant the doctrine 
taught by Mr. Huntington, Mr. Bradford and 
others who fdjow hard after them, it must 
be granted he did not If the fall and deprav- 
ity of man operate to destroy his accountable-* 
iiess to his Creator ; if his inability to obey 
^e law, or comply with the gospel, bic ot such a 
nature as to excuse him in the nej^eet of eith- 
er ; or if not, yet, if Chriilt's coming ^nder ilie 
law frees believers from all obligation to obey 
its precepts ; if gospel invitations are address* 
ed only to the regenerate | if the illominatiiu; 
influences of the Holy Spirit consist in reveal- 
ing tons theaecret purpoteaof iSod eoneeming 
US} or impresuDg us with tfie idea that we are the 

fsarob's memoirs^ 15t 

^vonrites of Heaven ; if believiD^ such impres- 
sions be christian faith, and doubting of their va- 
liditj unbelief | if there be no such thing as pro- 

fressiye sanctification, nor anj sanctifrcation in- 
erent, except that of the illumination before de- 
scribed^ if wicked men are not obliged to do any 
thing beyond what they can find in their hearts 
to do, nor good men to oe holy beyond what they 
actually are ; and if these thines constitute the 

fospeif Mr. Pearce certainly dtd not preach it 
kut if man^ whateyer be his depravity, be neces- 
sarily a free agent, and accountable for all his 
dispositions and, actions ; if gospel invitations 
be addressed to men not as elect, nor as non- 
elect, but as sinners exposed to the righteous 
displeasure of Gk)d ; if Christ's obedience and 
death rather increase than diminish our obli- 
gations to love God and one another ; if faith 
in Christ be a falling in with God^s way of sal- 
Tation, and unbelief a falling out with it ; if 
sanctification be a progressive work, and so es- 
sential a branch or our salvation, as that with- 
out it no man shall see the Lord $ if the Holy 
Spirit instruct us in nothing by his illuminat- 
ing influences but what was already revealed 
in the scriptures, and which we should have 
perceived but for that we loved darkness rath- 
er than light ; and if he inclines us to nothing 
but what was antecedency right, or to such a 
spirit as every intelligent creature ought at all 
times to have possessed-^then Mr. rearce did 
preach the ^{ospel ; and that which his accusers 
call by this name is another gospt^ and not 
the go$pel of Chmt. 

Moreover, if the doctrine taught by Mr* 
Pearce be not the gospel of Chnst, and that 

152 pearoe's memoirs* 

\irhich is taught by the above writers and their 
adherents be, it inaj be expected that the ef- 
fects produced will in some degree correspond 
with this representation : and, is it evident to' 
all men who are acquainted with both, and 
who Judge impartially, that the doctrine taught 
by Mr. Pearce is productive of hatredj vari- 
ance^ emulations^ torath^ strife^ rmHngSf ivU 
turmisings^ and perverse disputings ; that it 
renders those who embrace it lovers of that 
imm selves^ covetous^ boasters^ proud, false oe- 
tusers, fierce, despisers of those that are goods 
while that of his adversaries promotes iove^ 
joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness^ 
faith, meekness, and temperance ? TP^hy even 
of yourselves judge ye not what is right? Ye 
shall know them oy their fruits! 

Mr. Pearce's ideas of preaching human obli" 
gation may be seen in the following extract 
from a letter addressed to a young minister 
who was sent out of the church of which he 
was pastor. *^ You request my thoughts how 
a minister should preach human obligation. I 
would reply, do it extensively, do it constant- 
ly ; but withal, do it affectionately and evan- 
gelically. I think, considering the general 
character of our hearers, and the state of their 
mental improvement, it would be time lost to 
argue much from the data of natural religion* 
The best way is, perhaps, to express duties in 
Scripture language, ana enforce them by evan- 
gelical motives; as, the example of Christ — 
the ends of his suffering and death — the con- 
sciousness of his approbation — ^the assistance 
he has promised-— tne influence of a holy con- 
versation on God's people, and on the people 

of A^ w«rid«**4b« small retinis ire at beat cut 
make &r dm lof» af Jeaa»**«iid tha hope of 
eternal hoHness. These form a bad j of argii« 
menta, irbick tha moat abnple nuij ivaderataDdt 
uid the most dttU may feel. Tet I would not 
negleet on $ome oceasiona to Amtr tha obliga- 
lioos of man to lore his €reatar-*-Ae raasona* 
bleoeaa of the divine law**«»and the natand teat' 
demqr of its cammands ta promote aur own 
comfort, the ^od of soeiotjt and the glorj of 
God. Theae will serve to iUundrMe, tat, af- 
ter all, at ia the gospd of the grace ef€M that 
will meat eflfectimily omnote and impel ta ac* 

Mr. Veapce's aftctian to the doctrine af tho 
croas waa nac merely aor principally on ac« 
count of its being a system which eeoared hia 
own safety. Haid this bem the case, he ari^t, 
like othera, whose rei^iaii orieinates and ter* 
iBinatefinself-lov«, have been deiij^ted wiA tha 
idea of the grace of the Son, imt it would httvia 
been at the expenie of all complacency in the 
r%|iteoHB garernment of the Fatner. Ha m^jfiA 
bave admired aomathing which he accounted the 
goaael, aa saving him from misery $ but he 
could have discerned «o lovelineas in the di- 
▼iae law as being holy, just and good, nor in 
the mediation of Christ as doing honour to it 
That which in bis view constituted the glory 
c€ the ^pei was, that Ood is therein revealed 
aa thejuBt Ood and the Saviour^uai^ and the 
jwHuer of him that beHeveth in Jems. 

Me UHne a haer of good ifiea«**He waa nev- 
er more in his element than when joining with 
them in spiritual conversation, prayer and 
praise. His heart vras tenderly attached t» 


the people of his charge ; and it was one of tte 
bitterest ingredients in his cup daring his loi^ 
affliction, to be cat off from their societT- 
When in the neighbourhood of Plymouth, he 
thus writes to Mr. Kinff, one of the deacons— 
<*Give my love to all the dear people. O 
praj, that He who afflicts would give me pa- 
tience to endure. Indeed, the state of sus- 
pense in which I have been kept so long, re- 
quires much of it; and I often exclaim, ere I 
am aware, O my dear people! O my dear fam- 
ily, when shall I return to yen again!" He 
conscientiously dissented from the Church 6f 
England, and from every other national estab- 
lishment of religion, as inconsistent with what 
he judged the scriptural account of the nature 
of Christ's kingdom : nor was he less consci- 
entious in his rejection of infant baptism, con- 
sidering it as having no foundation in the holy 
scriptures, and as tending to confound the 
church and the world | yet he embraced with 
brotherly affection great numbers of godly men. 
both in and out of the establishment His 
spirit was truly catholic : he loved all who lov- 
ed our Lord Jesas Christ in sincerity. ^' Let 
us pray,^' said he in a letter to a friend, **for 
the peace of Jerusalem : they shM prosper 
who love-<^not this part, or the other, but who 
love-^HKR-— that is; the whole body of Christ. '* 
^ He bare goad vnU to aU tnanAnnd.— -It Waa. 
firom this, principle that he so ardently desired, 
to go ana preach the gospel to the heathen. 
And even under his long affliction, when at times 
he entertained hopes of recovery, be would 
say, '^ My soul pants forusefulness more exten-. 
•ive than ever: I long to become an apostle to tbt ^ 

^earob's msmoie^ 155 

Wotldl" The errors and sins of men wrouebt 
mtich in him in a waj of pitj. He knew that 
^tiiey were culpable in the sight of Gk>d : but 
be knew also that he himself was a sinner, and 
felt that they were entitled to his compassion. 
His zeal for the diYinitj and atonement of hi» 
^aTioiir, never appeared to have operated in a 
way of unchristian bitterness against those 
who rejected these important doctrines ; and 
thongh he was shamefully traduced by profes-* 
Bors of another description as a mere legal 
preacher, and his ministry held up as affordins 
no food for tlie souls of believers, and could 
not but feel the injury of such misrepresenta- 
tions ; gret he does not appear to have cher- 
ished unchristian resentment; but would at 
any time have laid himself out for the good of 
his worst enemies. It was his constant en- 
deavour to promote as good an understanding 
between the different congregations in the 
town as the nature of their different religious 
sentiments would admit. The cruel bitterness 
of many people against Dr. Priestley and his 
friends, at and alter the Birmingham riots, 
was affecting to his mind. Such methods of 
opposing error he abhorred. His regard to 
mankidd made him lament the consequences 
of war : but while he wished and prayed for 
peace to the nations, and especially to his na- 
tive country, he had no iciea of tarbulentlr 
contending for it. Though friendly to civil 
and religious liberty, he stood aloof from the 
fire of political contention. In an excellent 
Circular Letter to the churches of the Midland 
Association in 1794, of which he was the 
writer, he thus expressea himself— «*' Have ai 

156 >XAI|0»'S MfMOlEI- 

Utde M pwiUe to do mik tbe world* Med- 
dle not with political controverfies. A^a iaoc« 
dioatei {Mirouit of tbese, we are sorry to ob- 
serve^ has been aa a canker-worm at the root 
of vital .'pietT ; and caused the lore of v^Wh 
formerly zeaioiis professorSf to wax, cold» Tne 
Lord reigneth $ it is our pUce to rejoice m ki» 

favemnmU^ and auietlj wait for the sal^mtioQ of 
rod. The estaUisbioeat of his kiBgdom will 
be the ultimate end of all those national commo- 
tions which terrifj the earth* The wrath of 
man shall praise him, and the remainder of 
wrath he will restrain." If he could write 
in this manner in 1 rd4, his seeing a hopef i^l 
undertakingt^in which he had taken a more than 
common interesti blasted bj this speciea of 
follj in 1796» would not lessen his aversicm to 
it*"*^ From this time more than ever, he turn* 
ed bis whole attention to the promoting of the 
kingdom of Christ, cherishing and recommend* 
ing a spirit of contentment and gratitude fi»r 
the civil and, religious advantages that we en- 
jegrcd* Such were the sentiments inculcated 
in the last sermon that be jprinted, and the 
last but one that he preacbed.t Qis dear 
joung friends who are gope to India will nev- 
er forget how earnestlj he charged them bj 
letter, when confined at Plymouth, to conduct 
themselves in idl civil matters as peaceable and 
obedient sutjjects to the government under 
which they lived, in whatever country it might 
be their Iqt to reside* 


* See Periodical Accounts of the Baptist Misiiofl, vol. 
i. p. ^357. 
t 8m Pa^e lir-^Note. 

tJUltOB'S mEMOIBS* 157 

It uas hve thai tempered his JaitltfvlneBa 
with so iurge a portion of tender eonum^or the 
good f^ those whose eomuct hs was cbhged to 
ecnni/e.-— He ccmld not bear them that were 
evil, bift would 9et himself agmott them with 
the greatest^ inane^s $ jet it was easj to dis- 
cover the pain of mind with which thts neces* 
aary part of diity was discharged. It is well 
remembered how he conducted himself towards 
certain preachers in the neighbourhood, whoi 
-wandering from place to place, corrupted and 
erobroilecf the churches; whose conductihe 
knew to be as dishonourable as their principles 
were loose and unscnptural : and when re- 

5[uested to recite particulai's in his own de- 
ence, his fear and tenderness for character, his 
modest reluctance to accuse persons older than 
himseli^ and his deep concern that men engag- 
ed in the Christian ministrj, should render 
such accusations necessary, were each conspic- 
ttousy and proved to all present, that the work 
of an accuser was to him a strange work. 

It was hve thai expanded his hearty and 
prompted him to labour in season and out of 
season for the salvation ^ftnn^ra,— This was 
the soring of that constant stream of activity 
by which his life was distinguished. His con- 
science would not suSer him to decline what 
appeared to be right. *^ I dare not refuse,'' 
he would say, *' lest I should shrink from du- 
ty. Unjustifiable ease is worse than the most 
difficult labours to which' duty calls.'' To 
persons who never entered iuto Us views and 
. feelingSf some parts of his conduct, eqiecially 
those which relate to bia deure of quitting hia 


country that he might preach the gospel to the 
heathen, will appear extravagant : but no man 
t:oald with greater propriety liave adopted the 
language of the apostle, Trhether we be beside, 
cnrselves^ it is to God; or whether we he sober^ 
it is for your cmiae ; for the love of Christ con- 
itrcnneth t^. 

He was frequently told that his exerciser 
wfere too great for his strength $ but such was 
the ardour of his heart, *^ He could not die in a 
better work." When he went up into the 
pulpit to deliver his last sermon, he thought h^ 
should not have been able to set through ; but 
when he got a little warm, he felt relieved, and 
forgot his indisposition, preaching with equal 
fervour and freedom as when in perfect health. 
While he was laid aside, he could not forbear 
hoping that he should some time resume his 
delightful work ; and knowing the strength of 
his feelings to be such that it would be unsafe 
to trust himself, he proposed for a time to 
write his discourses, that his mind might not 
be at liberty to overdo his debilitated frame. 

Jill his counsels^ cauiionsj and reproofs, a^ 
pear to have been the effect of love. — It was a 
rule dictated by his heart, no less than by his 
judgment, to discourage all evil speaking : nor 
would he approve of just censure unless some 
good and necessary end were to be answered 
by it Two of his distant friends being at his 
house together, one of them, during the absence 
of the other, su^ested something to his disad- 
vantage. He put a stop to the conversation 
by answering. *^ He is here, take him aside and . 
tell him of it by himself : you may do him 

pkarob's msmoxas« 159 

If he perceived any Qf his acquamtapce be- 
wildered in fruitless speculations^ he would in 
an affectionate manner endeavour to draw off 
their attention from these mazes of confusion 
to the simple doctrine of the cross. A speci* 
men of this kind of treatment will be seen in 
the letter, No. I. towards the dose of this 

He was affectionate to all, but especially 
towards the rising generation. The youth of 
his own congregation, of London, and of Dubr 
lin, have not forgotten his melting discourses 
which were particularly addressed to them. 
He took much delieht in spe&king to the chil-. 
dren, and y9uld adapt himself to their Gapaci<* 
ties, and expostulate with them on the things 
which belonged to their everlasting peace. 
Wb^l^ At Plymouth he wrote thus to one of his 
friends, *« O how should I rejoice were, there 
a speedy prospect of my returning to my great 
and little congregation^." Nor was it by 
preaching only that he sought their eternal wel^ 
fare : several of his letters are addressed ta 
young person8.-~-See Nos. li. and III. towards 
the close of this chapter. 

With what joy did he congratulate one of hi» 
most intimate friends, on hearing that three of 
the younger brandies of his family bad ap- 
parently been brought to take the Redeemer's 
yoke upon them. *' Thanks, thanks, thanks 
oe to God," said he, ** for the enrapturing pros- 
yects before you as a father^ as a Christian 
father especially.-^ What, three of a family! 
and these three at once ! O the heights, and 
the depths^ and lengths, and breadths, of his 
unfathomable grace* My soul feels joy ua^ 

160 TMAAOttS MtMOlSi* 

speakaUe at the blessed sews. Three tmntr* 
tii toalf atcured ler cternil Ufet Three tv 
tional spirits preptring te gnce TeimmitfiPs 
triamphs, and eioff hie preisei Thrte exaniples 
ef virtue and ^oooness ; exhibitiBs the geiuliiie 
infleences of the true religioa ef Jesus before 
tiiewerid-^Ferhsps three mothers traimAg ttpib 
lead three future familtes in the way to heavea* 
O what a train of blessings do E see in Ihis 
event I Most siaeerely do I partidpajte with 
my dear friend, in his pleasures and in his 

Towards the close of life, writine to dm 
same friend, he thes .concludes lus Tetter >^ 
** Present our love to dear Mrs. S. and thfe 
fiunilr, cBpecially these whose hearts are ca* 
gaffed to seek the Lord and his feedoesa. .O 
tell them thi^ will find htm aood alllheir livee, 
suprenmly good on dying beds, but best at all 
m derjr." 

In ht$ vkits to the stcft.he waii aiagularly ime- 
fiiL His eympattietick cenversatton, aSectien* 
aite mayera, and endearing manner of recom* 
mending te them a compassionate Saviour, ire* 
qnently operated as a cordial to dieir troubled 
hearts. A youi^ man of his congregation vraa 
dangerously ill. His fiither, livmg at a die- 
tance, was anxious io hear from him ; and Mr. 
Pearce, in a letter to the minister on vhese 
preaching the btber attended, wrote as follows: 
^< I feel for the anxiety of Mr. Y. and am hap* 
py in being at this time a Barnabas to Urn* i 
was not seriously alanned for his son till last 
Tuesday, when I e&pected from every syaip; 
torn, and the languid of his apothecary, that 
he was nigh unto death. But to enr astenish* 

meat and joj,a surprising cfaang^^ has since taken 
place. I saw him yesterday' apparently in a fair 
waj for recovery. His mind, tor the first part of 
Ids illness, was sometimes joyful, and almost 
constantly calm ; but when at the worst, suspi- 
cions crowded his mind ; he feared he had been 
a hypocrite. I talked, and prayed, and wept 
with ninu One scene was very affecting ; both 
he and his wife appeared like persons newly 
awal^ened. They never felt so strongly the 
importance of religion before. He conversed 
about the tenderness of Jesus to broken-hearted 
sinner^ I and whilst we spoke, it seemed as 
though be came and began to heal the wound. 
It did me good, and I trust not unavailing to 
them. They have since been for the most part 
happy ; and a very pleasant interview I had 
with them on the past dav." 

Every man must have his seasons of relaxa- 
tion. In his earlier years he would take strong 
bodily exercise. Of late, he occasionally em- 
ployed himself with the microscope, and in 
making a few philosophical experiments. * * We 
will amuse ourselves with philosophy," said he 
to a philosophical friend, *< but Jesus shall be 
our teacher." In all these exercises he seems 
never to have lost sight of God ; but would be 
discovering something in his works that should 
famish matter for praise and admiration. His 
mind did not appear to have been unfitted, but 
rather assisted, by such pursuits for the dis- 
charge of the more spiritual exercises, into 
which he would fall at a proper season, as into 
his native element. If in company with friends, 
and the conversation turned upon the works of 
i^jtare^ or art, or any other subject of science, 


16^ nKBLGt?S MEMOIRd. 

lie would cheerfally take a part iu ii, and fibta. 
occasion required^ hj some ea^j and pleasant 
transition, direct it into another channel* An 
ingenious friend once showed him a model of 
a machine which he thoasht of constmcfin|;^ 
and by which he hoped to be able to produce a 
perpetual motion. Mr. Pearce having patient- 
ly insnected it, discovered where the Operation 
would stopi and pointed it out His friend was 
convinced, and felt, as may be supposed, rath* 
er unpleasant at his disappointment Be con- 
soled him ; and a prayer-meeting being at 
hand, said to this effect, *^ We may learn irom 
hence our Own insufficiency^ and the glory tf 
that Bein^, who is wonderful in counsel^ and 
€XceUeni m working : let us go and worship 

His mild and gentle disposition, not apt to 
give or take offence, often won upon persons in 
matters wherein at first they have shown them- 
selves averse. When collecting for the Baptist 
mission, a gentleman who had no knowledge of 
him, or of the conductors of that undertidcing, 
made some Objections, on the ground that the 
Baptists had little or nothius to say to the un- 
converted. This bUectionMr. Pearce attempt- 
ed to remove, by aiileging that the parties con- 
cerned in this business were entirely of aaotber 
mind. I am glad to heafr it, said thfe gentle- 
man, but I have my fears* Then pray^ dr, 
said Mr. Pearce, do not give till you are satis^ 
fied. Why, I assure you^ repliea the other, I 
iiunk the Methodists more ukely to succeed 
than you ; and should feel more pl^iasure in 
giving them ten guineas than you one. If you 
givo mm twenty guineasi ^ir, said Mr. Pearce, 

rtA&OB^s M&icoift»; 16$ 

we ^hftll rejoice in their success ; and if joa 
«ye us one, I hope it will not be misapplied* 
The gentleman smiled, and gave him four. 
' 9ia igure to a superficial observer would at 
first sight convey nothing very interesting ; but 
on close inspection, his countenance would be 
acknowledged to be a faithful index to his souU 
Calm, placid, and when in the pulpit espedai- 
ly, fall of animation, his appearance was not a 
IitUe expressive of the interest he felt in the 
eternal w0lfare of his audience ; his eyes beam- 
ing benignity, and speaking in the most im- 
pressive languf^ his willingness to impntU 
not mdy the wspd of Oody but Mia own soul 

His imegination was vivid, and his judgment 
clear; he relished the elegancies or science, 
and felt alive to the most delicate and refined 
sentiments ; yet these were things on account 
of which he does not appear to have valued him- 
self* They were rather his amusements than 
his employment. 

His address was easy and insinuating ; his 
voice pleasant, but sometimes overstrained in 
the course of his sermon.; his language chaste, 
flowing, and inclining to the florid : this last, 
however, abated as bis judgment ri^ned. His 
delivery was rather slow than rapid ; his atti* 
tude graceful, and his countenance in almost 
airhis discourses approaching to an afiectionate 
smile* He never appears, however, to have 
^studied what are called the sraces of i)n1pit 
action; or, whatever he bad ^ad concimi^ig 
them, it was nmnifest that he thou^t nothing 
of them, or of any other of the omnments S 
speech) at the time. Soth bis action a&d Ian- 


ga«ge were the genuine expressions of an i 
dent mind, affected, and sometimes deeply, witfi^ 
his subject Being rather below the commoti 
stature, and disregarding, or rather, I nught 
saj, disapproving every thingjpompous in his ap; 
pearance, he has on some occasions been pre^ 
judged to his disadvantage : but the sons ot the 
nightingale is not the less melodious for his not 
appearing in a gaudy plumage. His manner 
of preparing for the pulpit ^ may be seen in a 
letter addressed to Mr. C— -— , of L ■ , who 
was sent out of his church : and which may be 
of use to others in a similar situation. ^See NcL 
iV. towards the close of this chapter. 

His ministry was highly acceptable to persons 
of education : but he appears to have been 
most in his element when preaching to th^ 
poor. The feelings which he himself expresses 
when instructing the colliers, appear to have 
continued with him through life. It was his 
delight to carry the glajd tidings of salvation 
into the villages wherever he could find access 
and opportunity. And as he sought the good 
of their souls, so he both laboured and suffered 
to relieve their temporal wants ; living himself 
in a style of frugality and selfnienial, that he 
might have whereof to give to them that needed. 

Finally, hepoasess^a large portion of reaf 
happiness. There are few characters whose 
enjoyments, both natural and spiritual, hav« 
risen to so great a height. He dwelt in love: 
and he that dwelleth in love, dweUeth in Crodf 
and (rod in him. Such a life must needs be 
happy. If his religion had originated and^ ter- 
minated in self-love, as some contend the whole 
of religion doeS| his joys hud. been not only of 

in diliBrMit natures bnt &r less estensive tiifttt 
'ttej "vi^ere. His interest wm jbound m with 
Huit of his Lord and Savieur. Its afluctioae 
were his afflictioii^ and its joys his joj. The 
grand olqect of his desire was, to see the good 
ojT Ood^e choem, to rqoke in the ^iadneM ^f 
his nation^ and to glory with his uiheritance* 
<< What pleaenres do those lose," says he* 
*^ who have no interest in God's gracious and 
holf' canseT'* 

if an object of Joy presented itself ta his 
miodi be would dengnt in multiplying it by its 
probaMe or possible CDoseqnences. Thus it 
vasp as we have seen» in his congratulating his 
firiefid on ikt oonv^ersion of three of his ehil^ 
drea^ and thus it was when speaking of a 

nle who divided into two congrfoations, not 
discord, but from an increase of numbers i 
nod who ^nerousl J anited in erectiiUK; a nfcw 
and additional place of wor&hip-— *< Tnese Ub« 
oral souls are subscribia^t'' saia he, ** in order 
to sai>port a religion, which, as far as .it truly 
prevails, will render others as liberal as them- 

His heart was so moch formed for social ^1t 
joysMnt that he seems to have contemplated 
Ihie heavenly state under this idea with peculiar 
advantage. This was the leadisj; theme of % 
discourse from Rev. v. 9 — 13, which he deliv* 
ered at a meeting of ministers at Arnsby, 
April 18, IT^7 $ and of which his brethren re- 
tain a lively remembrance. On this pleasing 
siAjject he dwells also in a letter to his dear 
friend J9ir/w-^'* I had much pleasure a few days 
since, in meditating on the affiactionate Ian* 

I* doo the Letter to Dr. Bjrland, May 30, 1796, p. 67. 


ruage of our Lord to his sorrowful disciples : 
Igo to prepare a place for you. What a plen- 
itude 01 consolation do these words contain ; 
what a sweet view of heaven as a plac6 of eod- 
ety. It is one place for us all : that place 
where his glorified body is, there all his follow-', 
ers shall assemble, to part no more. Where 
he is, there we shall be also. Oh blessed an- 
ticipation! There shall be Abel, and all the 
martyrs $ Abraham, and all the patriarchs ; 
Isaian, and all the prophets : Paul, and all the 
apostles ; Gabriel, and all the angels ; and 
above all, Jesus, and all his ransomed peoplel 
Oh to be amongst the number ! My dear broth- 
er, let us be strong in the Lord.. Let us real- 
ize the^ bliss before us. Let our faith iMing 
heaven itself near, and feast, and live upon the 
scene* Oh what a commanding influence would 
it have upon our thoughts, passions, comforts^ 
ackrows, words, ministry, prayers, praises, and 
conduct What manner of persons should w« 
be in all holy conversation and godliness!" 

In many persons, the pleasures imparted by 
religion are counteracted by a gloomy constitu- 
tion : but it was not so in him. In his dispo- 
Bition they met with a friendly soil. Cheer- 
fulness vras as natural to him as breathine $ and 
this spirit, sanctified by the grace of God, gave 
a tincture to all his thoughts, conversation, and 
preaching. He was seldom heard without 
tears i but they were frequently tears of pleas- . 
ure. No levity, no attempts at wit, no aiming 
to excite the risibility of an audience, ever dis- 
^ced his sermons. Religion in him was hab- 
itual seriousness, mingled with sacred pleasurOf 
frequently risine into sublime delight, and oc- 
casionally overflowing with transporting joy. 

fearob's memoirs. 16r 



NO. I. 

To a young ntan whose mmd he perceitred was bewildered wiUi Indtleie 


*^ The coDTersation we had on oar war to 
— -, so far interested me in your religiotti 
feelings, that I find it impossible to satisfy my 
mind, till I have expressed my ardent wishes 
for the happy termination of your late exercises, 
and contributed my mite to the promotbn of 
your joy in the Lord. A disposition more or 
less to ^* scepticism" I believe is common to 
our nature, in proportion as opposite systems, 
and jarring opinions, each supported by a plaus- 
ibility of argument, are presented to our mmds ; 
and with some Qualification I admit Robinson's 
remark, ^^ that tie who never doubted, never 
believed.'' White examining the grounds of 
persuasion, it is right for the mind to hesitate. 
Opinions ought not to be prejudged any more 
than criminals. Every objection ought to have 
its weight ; and the more numerous and forci- 
ble objections are, the more cause shall we &" 
nally have for the triumph : ^ Magna est Veritas 
et prevalebit;' but there are two or three con- 
siderations, which have no small weight with 
me in relation to religious controversies. 

<<The first is, the importance of truth. It 
would be endless to write on truth in general. 
I confine my views to what I deem the leading 
truth in the New Testament, — 71u atanemeni 
made on behalf of sinners by the Son of God; 
the doctrine of the cross ^ Jesus Christ and him 

168 VEAAOB'S MBlffMlUk' 

crucified. It snrel j caanot be a matter of small 
concern whether the Creator of all things, oat 
of mere love to rebeltioas men, exch^sed a 
throne for a cross, and thereby reconciled a 
ruined world to God. If this be not true, how 
can we resnect the Bible as an inspired book, 
which so plainly attributes our salvation to'Hhe 
^ace of God, through the redmnj^ion which is 
tn Chri$t Jesus? And if we discard the Bi- 
ble, what can we do Vith prophecies, miracles^ 
and all the power of evidence, on which, as on 
adamantine pillars, its authority abides I Sore- 
ly the infidel has more to reject than the be- 
liever to embrace. That book, then,, which 
we receive, not as the word of man, but as the 
word of God, not as the religion of our ances- 
tors, but on the invincible conviction which at- 
tends an impartial investigation of its evi- 
dences ; that book reveals a truth of the hi^ 
est importance to man, consonaat to the opift- 
ions oi the earliest ages, and the most enlight- 
ened nations, perfectly consistent with the 
Jewish economy, as to its spirit and design, d- 
together adapted to unite the equitable and 
merciful penections of the Deity in the sin- 
ner's salvation, >and above all things calcalatod 
to beget the most established peace, to inspire 
with the liveliest hope, and to engage the heart 
and life in habitual devotedness to the inter^t 
of morality and piety. Such a doctrine I can- 
not but venerate ; and to the Author of such a 
doctrine, my whole soul labours to exhaust it- 
self ift pndse. 

* Oh the sweet wonders of the eroas* 
Where God my aaviour, lovM sad dj'd P 

t%k%df%H M&MOIBS. 160* 

fimr^i my friend, fergite the transport of a 
soul compelled to feel where it attempts only 
to etplore. I cannot on tkh sabject control 
mj passions by the laws of log;ick. God for* 
Mf that I 9ho'uld gloryy save in the cross ff 
Christ Jestts my Lord. 

<* Secondly, I consider man as a depraved 
creature ; so depraved, that his judgment is as 
dark as his appetites are sensual : wholly de- 
petrdent thererore on God for religious light, 
as well as true derotifon ^ yet such a thipe to 
^ride, as to reject every thing, which the nar- 
row limits of his comprehension cannot em- 
brace ; atid such a slave to his jmssions, as to 
admit no law but self-interest ror his govern- 
ment. With these views of human nature, I 
am periiiuaded "we ought to suspect our own de- 
cisions whenever they oppose truths too sub- 
litne for our understandings, or too pure for 
ottr lusts. * To err' on this side, indeed, • is 
human f wherefore the wise tnan saith, * He 
that trusteth to his own heart is a fool.' 
Should, therefore, the evidence be only equal 
on the side of the gospel of Christ, I should 
think, with this allowance, we should do well 
to admit it. 

^* Thirdlv, if the gospel of Christ be true, it 
should be heartily embraced. We shouki 
yield ourselves to its influence without reserve. 
We must come to a point, and resolve to be 
either infidels or christians. To know the 
power of the sun, we ^osld expose oorseWes 
to his rays; to know the sweetsess of hoseyy 
we must bring it to our palates. Speculations 
will not ilo in either cf &ese cases ) mich less 

iro pbarok's MSMOntS. 

will it in matters of religion. My son^ saitk 
God, give me thine heart. 

^^ Fourthly, a humble admission of the light 
we already nave, is the most effectual waj to a 
full conviction of the truth of the doctnne of 
Christ. TjT any man ivill do his fHU^ he 
shall know of his doctrine whether it he of (rod. 
If we honour God as far as we know his will, 
he will honour us with further discoveries of it. 
Thus shall we know, if we follow on to know 
the Lord ; thus, thus shall jou, my dear friend, 
become assured that there is salvation in no 
other name than that of Jesus Christ ; and thus 
from an inward experience of the quickening 
influences of his Holy Spirit^ jou will join the 
admiring church, and say of Jesus, * This is mj 
beloved, this is mj friend ; he is the chiefest 
amone ten thousand, he is altogether lovely.' 
Yes, 1 yet hope, I expect to see you rejoicing 
in Christ Jesus ; and appearing as a living wit- 
ness that he is faithful who hath said, * Seek 
and ye shall find } ask and receive, that your 
joy may be full.' S. P." 

In another letter to the same correspondent, 
after congratulating himself that he had dis- 
covered such a mo£ of killing noxious insects 
as should put them to the least pain, and which 
was characteristic of the tenderness of his 
heart, he proceeds as follows : -— <^fiut enough 
of nature : how is my brother as a christian ^ 
We have had some interesting moments in 
conversation on the methods of grace, that 
grace whose influence reaches to the day of ad- 
versity, and the hour of death ; seasons when^ 
of every thing beside it may be saidi Miserable 


comforters are they ail! My dear friend, we 
v/\\\ amuse ourselves with philosophy, but 
Christ shall be our teacher ; Christ shall be 
our glory ; Christ shall be our portion. Oh 
that we may be enabled * to comprehend the 
heights, and depths, and lengths, and breadths, 
and to know the love of Christ which passeth 

Affectionately yours, S. P." 

No. II. 

To a young gentleman of his acquaintancei who wat 
then studying physic at Edinburgh. 

" Did my dear friend P— — know with what 
sincere affection, and serious concern, I al- 
most daily think of him, he would need no 
other evidence of the effect which his last visit, 
and /his subsequent letters have produced. 
Indeed there is not a young man in the worlds 
in earlier life than mvself, for whose universal 
prosperity I am so dfeeply interested. Many 
circumstances I can trace, on a review of the 
past fourteen years, which have contributed to 
beget and augment affection and esteem : and 
J can assure you that every interview^ and ev- 
ery letter^ still tend to consolidate my regard. 

** Happy should I be, if my ability to serve 
you at this important crisis of human life were 
equal to your wishes or my own. Your situa- 
tion demands all the aid, which the wisdom 
and prud(*nce of your friends can afford, that 
you may be directed not only to the most wor- 
thy objects of pursuit, but also to the most ef- 
fectual means for obtaining them* In your 

professional .duurtcter it is ioipoMibfe $9fmt 
to give you any aasistance. If any fesoral ob- 
•orvations I can wake ahould proTO at all use- 
fol, I shall be riohly rewarded for the time I 
employ in their ooramaokation* 

*^l thank yoa siDcerely for ilie freedom 
wherewith you ha^e disclmed the pecttliarities 
of yoar altaation, and the views and resdiu- 
tions wherewith they have inspired yoa. I can 
recommend nothins better, my dear friend, 
than a determined aaherence to the purposes ^oa 
have already formed, respecting the intimacies 
you contract, and the associates you choose. 
in such a p^ce aa Bdinburgh, it may be sup- 
posed, no description of persons will be want- 
ing, ^ome so notoriously .vicious, that their 
atrqcity of character will hi^ve no small ten- 
dency to confirm your morals, from tjie odi- 
ous contrast wbic^ their practices present to 
your view* Against these, therefore, I need 
not oautbn you* You will flee thein ft* ao 
many serpents, in whose breath is venoin 
and destruction* More danger m^y be appre- 
hended from those mixed characters, who blend 
the profession of philosophical refinement with 
the secret indulgence of those sensual gratifi- 
cations, whiph at once exhaust the pocket, de- 
stroy the health, and debase the character. 

^^That morality is friendly to individual 
happiness, and to social order, no man, who 
respects bis own conscience or character, will 
have the effrontery to deny. Its avenues can- 
not, therefore, be too sacredly §^ded, nor 
those principles which support a virtuous prac- 
tice be too seriously roaintuned- But morality 
derives^ it is true, its best, its only support* 

pearok's memoirs^ irS 

from the principles of religion. ^ The fear of the 
liord (said the wise man) is to hate evil.' He, 
therefore, who endeavours to weaken the sanc- 
tions of religion, to induce a sceptical habit, to 
detach my thoughts from an ever present Godf 
and mj hopes from a futurity of holy enjoy- 
ment, HE is a worse enemy than the man that 
meets me with the pistol and the dagger* 
Should my dear friend, then, fall into the com- 
pany of those, whose friendship cannot be pur* 
chased but by the sacrifice of Revelation, I 
hope he will ever think such a price too great 
for the good opinion of men who blaspheme pi- 
ety, and dishonour God. Deism is indeed the 
fashion of the day ; and to be in the mode, you 
must quit the good old path of devotion as too 
antiquated for any but monks and hermits ; so 
as you laugh at religion, that is enough to se- 
cure to you the company, and the applause of 
the sons of politeness. Oh that God may be a 
buckler and a shield to defend you from their 
assaults! Let but their private morals be in- 
quired into, and if they may have a hearing, I 
dare engage they will not bear a favourable 
testimony to the good tendency of scepticism ; 
and it may be re^rded as an indisputable ax- 
oim, That what is unfriendly to virtue is un- 
friendly to man. 

«« Were I to argue a posteriori in favour of' 
truth, I should contend that those principles, 
must be true, which (first) corresponded with 
general observation-— (secondly) tended to gene- 
ral happiness— (thirdly) preserved a uniform 
connexion between cause and effect} evil and 
remedy, in all situations. 



<* I would then applj these data to the prin- 
ciples held, on the one side, by the deists i a»A 
on the other, by the believers in revelation* 
In the application of theyfr^^ I wonld refer to 
the state of human nature. The deist contends 
for its purity and powers. Revelation declares 
its depravity and weakness. I compare these 
opposite declarations with the facts that fall 
under constant observation. Do I not see 
that there is a larger portion of vice in the 
world, than of virtue : tnat no man needs 8o« 
licitation to evil, but every man a ^uard against 
it } and that thousands bewail their sutjectioa 
to lasts, which they have not power to subdue^ 
whilst they live in moral slavery, and cannot 
burst the chain ? Which principle then shall 
I admit? Will observation countenance the de^ 
istiealf I am convinced to the ccmtrary, and 
must say, I cannot be a deist without becomings 
a fool I and to exalt my reason, I must denv 
my senses. 

^<I take the second datum, and inquire, 
which tends most to general happiness r Tb 
secure happiness, three things are necessary : 
-^object, means, and motives. The question 
is, — Which points out the true source of hap- 
piness $ which directs to the best means for at- 
taining it $ and which furnishes me with the 
most poweffud motives to induce my pursuit of 
itt If I take a deist for my tutor, he tells me 
that/ome is the object ; universal aceommoda- 
tion of manners to interest^ the means ; and 
self-love the spring of action. Sordid teacher! 
From him I turn to Jesus, His better voiee 
informs me, that the source of felicity is tbe 
friendship rf my Oods that love to my JUaker^ 


Mid hifi to man^ expressed hi all tbe ncbleand 
amiable effusions of devotion and benevolence^ 
are the means ; and that the glory of Chdj and 
the happ%ne9$ ^the universe^ must be mj i;ao- 
tives. Blessed Instructer, thy dictates ap- 
prove themselves to everj illuminated con* 
science, to every pious heart! Do they not, mj 
dear P » approve themselves to yours ? 

^^ But I will not tire your patience by pur- 
suing these remarks* Little did I think oC 
such amplification when I first took up my 
pen. Oh that I may have the j.oy of flnding 
that these (at least well meant) endeavours to 
establish your piety have npt been ungracious- 
ly received, nor wholly unprofitable to yotir 
mind ! I am encouraged to these effusions of 
friendship by that amiable self-dUtmstf which 
yo^r letter exptesses ; a temper not ooly be- 
coming the earlier stages of life, but graceful 
in all its advancing periods. 

** Unspeakable satisfaction does it afford me 
to find that you are conscious of the necessity 
of * first' seeking assistance from Heaven. Re- 
tain, my dear U-iend, this honourable, thfs 
equitable sentiment — <tn all thy ways ac- 
knowledge God, and he shall direct thy p^ths*' 

I hope you will still be cautious in your in- 
timacies. You will gain more by a half-bouc^s 
intercourse with God, than the friendship of 
the whole college can impart Too much ae^ 
^uaintaiiGe would be followed with a waato of 
Aiat (Mreciotts timef oa the present iamroreweQt 
tf wnichy your future useudneRS ana respecta- 
bility in your profession depend. TJke the 
bee, you may do beftt t>y dipping the swcietsof 

i76 vsa&oe's memoirs* « 

eTerjr flowtr ; but remember, the sweetest 

blossom is not the hive. 

Yours very affectionately, S. P. " 

'<P. S. So many books have been published 
on the same subject as the manuscript joa 
helped me to copy, that I have not sent it te 
the press.* 


To a young lady at school, Miss A. H. a daughter of 
one of ihe members of his Church. 

<^ I cannot deny myself the pleasure which 
this opportunity affords me, of expressing the 
concern I feel for your happiness, arising from 
the sincerest friendship ; a friendship^ which 
the many amiable Qualities you ])ossess, together 
with the innumerable opportunities I have had 
of seeing them displayed, have taught me t» 
form and perpetuate. 

** It affords me inexpressible pleasure tohear, 
that you are so happy in your present situation r 
a situation in which I rejoice to see you placed, 
because it is not merely calculated to embellish 
the manners, but to profit the soul. I hope 
that my dear Ann, amidst the various pursuits 
of an ornamental or scientifick nature, which 
she may adopts will not omit that first, that 
great concern, the dedication of her heart to 

* The Compiler believes this was an answer to Mt, 
Peter Edward's Candid Rms&hSj ^a. He knows fiir. 
Pearce did write an answer to that performance. Bj 
the effrontery of the writer he has acknowledged he wae 
at first a little stunned ; but upon examining his ar^u> 
menu, found it no very difficult undertaking to pouat 
•m their fidlacy. 

-^ V 

God. To this, m j dear gid, everj thing inyites 
you that is worthj of your attention. The dig- 
nlt^ of a rational and immortal soul, the con- 
dition of human nature, the gracious truths 
and promises of God, the sweetness and |ise- 
fulness of religion, the qomCbrt it yields in af- 
fliction, the security it affords in temptatioi^ 
the supports it gives in death, and the prospects 
it opens of life everlastiag ; all these consider- 
ations, backed with the uncertainty of life, the 
solemnity of judgment, the terrors of hell, and 
the calls of conscience and of God, all demand 
your heart for the blessed Jehovah. This, and 
nothing short of this, is true religion. ^ You 
have often heard* and often written op religion: 
it is time you should feel it now. Oh what a 
blessedness will attend ypur hearty surrender 
of yourself to the God and Father ot men ! Me- 
thinks I see all the angels of God rejoiciDg at 
the si^bt, all the saints in heaven partaking of 
their joy ; Jf^sus himself, who died for sinners, 

filing on yon with delight ; your own heart 
lied with peace and joy in believing ; and a 
thousand streams of goodness flowing irom your 
renovated soul to refresh the aged saint, and to 
encourage your fellow youth to seek first the 
kingdom of heaven, and press on to God. 
But Oh, should I be mistaKen! Alas, alas, I 
cannot bear the thought. Oh thou Saviour of 
sinners, and God of love! take captive the 
heart of my dear young friend, and make her 
truly willing to be whoUj thine! 

^* If you can find freedom, do oblige me with 
a letter on the state of religion in your own 
•oal, and be assured of every sympatn^ or a4- 
vice that I am capable of feeling or giving. 
Affectionately yours, S. P.'' 

ird PElROB^d MEM0IA4. 

NO. IT. 

To a )roang Ministeryjtf r. C , of L— *-, on prepar*- 

tioB for the pulpit. 
Bfy dear Brother, 

* * Your first letter gave me much pleasure. I 
hoped you would learn some useful lesson from 
the first Sabbath's disappointment. Every 
thing is good that leads us to depend more 
simply on the Lord. Could I choose my frames, 
J would say respecting industry in preparation 
for publick work, as is frequently said respect- 
ing christian obedience ; I would apply as close 
as though I expected no help from the Lord, 
whilst 1 would depend on the Lord for assist- 
ance, aA though I had never made any prepara- 
tion at all. 

*' I "rejoice much in (every thing that affords 
you ground for solid pleasure. The account of 
the affection borne you by the people of God, 
was therefore a matter of joy to my heart, es- 
pecially as I learnt from the person;who brought 
your letter, that the friendship seemed pretty 

^ Your last has occasioned me some pain on 
your account, because it informs me tfiat you 
have been • exceedingly tried in the pulpit :* 
but I receive satisfaction again from consider- 
ing, that the gloom of midnight precedes the 
rising day, not only in the natural world, but 
frequently also in the christian minister's ex- 
perience. Do not be discouraged, my dear 
brother : those whose labours Grod has been 

{ pleased most eminently to bless, have ^neral- 
y had their days of prosperity ushered in with 
clouds and storms. You are in the sieve ; but 
the sieve is in our Saviour's hands 5 and h^ 

will not Buffer any thiDg but the chaff* to fall 
through, let him winnow us as often as he maj. 
No one at times, I think I may say, has been 
worse tried than myself, in the same manner 
as you' express ; though I must be thankful it 
has not been often* 

. - *' You ask direction of me, my dear brother.' 
I am too inexperienced myself to be capable. of 
directing others ; yet if the little time I have 
been en^ployed for God has furnished me with 
any thing worthy of communication, it will be 
imparted to no one with more readiness than to 

*^ I should advise you when you have been 
distressed by hesitation, to reflect whether it 
arose from an inability to recollect your ideas, 
or to obtain words suited to convey them. If 
the former, 1 think these two directions may 
be serviceable : First, Endeavour to think in a 
trcuTU Let one idea depend upon another in 
TOur discourses, as one link does upon another 
in a chain. For this end I have found it ne- 
cessary to arrange my subjects in the order of 
time. Thus, for instance, — If speaking of the 
promises, I would begin with those which were 
suited to the earliest inquiries of a convinced 
soul ; as, pardon, assistance in prayer, wis- 
dom, &c. ; then go to those parts of christian 
experience which are usually subsequent to the 
former ; as, promises of support in afflictions, 
deliverance from temptations, and perseverance 
in grace ; closing with a review of those which 
speak of support in death, and final glory. 
Then all the varieties of description respecting 
the glory of heaven will follow in natural order ; 
a9f the enlargement of the understanding, pu- 

■ ■!■» 

i 80 ^EARO b's MEBkOtRSt^ 

rifteation of the affectloDs, intercotlrse wtth 
saints, angels and Christ himself, t^hich ivM 
be eternal: thus beglnnine with the lowest 
marks 6f grace, and ascending ste|> by stq^ 
you at last arrive in the fruition of faith. This 
mode iS most natural, and most pleasing to the 
hearers, a& well as assisting to the preacher : 
for one idea gives birth to another, and he can 
hardly help going forward r^ularlj and easily. 

^^ secondly. Labour to render your ideas 
iraniparent to yourHff. Never offer to intro;^ 
dtice a thodght, Which you cannot see through 
before you enter the pulpit. You have read m 
Ctaud)^, that the best preparative to preach from 
it subject, is to undek'Stand it : and I think bish- 
<^P Burtt(Bt Hays, * No man properly understands 
any thing, who canhot at any time repres)ent it 
to Others. 

<* If your hesitation proceeds from a want of 
words, I should advise you — 1. To read good 
and eaiyduthor$ ; Dr. Watts especxaUy. — 2. To 
vmfe a j^redt part of your sermons, and for a 
labile get at least tne leading ideas of every 
head of discotirse by heart, enlarging only at 
tiie close of every thought. S. Sometimes, as 
in the end pf sermons, or when yon. preach in 
villages, start off ifi preaehing bejfond aU you 
Have premeditated, Fksten on some leading 
ideas } as, the solemnity of death, the awfirl- 
hess of judgment, the necessity of a change of 
heart, the willingness of Chi'ist to save, &c. 
Kever mind how &r you rttmble from the point, 
80 as vou do not lose sight of it j and if your 
heart be any way warm, you Ifi^Ul find some 
expressions then fall from your lips, which 
your imagination could iiot produce in an sig/s 

RAaos's MSHOias. 181 

«f studioas applieatioii.— 4. Dheat ytmnelf cf 
all fear* If you should break the rutes of gram« 
m^r, or put in, or leave out a word, and recol- 
lect at the end of the sentence the impropriety; 
unless it makes nonsense, or bad divinity, nev« 
er try to mend it, but let it pass. If so, per- 
haps only a few would notice it ; but if you 
stammer in trring to mend it, you will expose 
yourself to all the congregation* 

** In addition to all I have said, y^u know 
where to look, and from whom to seek that wis- 
dom and strength which only God can give* 
To him I recommend you, mv dear brother^ 
assuring you of my real esteem for von, and re- 
questing you will not fail to pray ror the least 
IH saints, but yours affectionately, 8. P." 


'^ God of out lives, oar tnomiiig aongt 

To thee we oheeriul raise ', 
Thy acts of lore *tis gooil to sasf , 

And pleasant 'tis to praise. 

Guardian of man, thy wakeful •ywy 

Nor sleep nor slamber know ; 
Thine eyes pierce thsMgh the shades of mghti 

Intent on all below. ' 

Sustain'd by thee, our opening eyes 

Salute the morning light ; 
Secure I stand, unhurt by all 

The arrows of the night. 

My life renew'd, my strength repair'd, 

To thee, my God, is due ; 
Teach me thy ways, and give megraco 

My duty to pursue. 

From ev'ry evil me defend. 
But gtuurd me most firom iiD i 


Direct hit goiiig oat, O Lord^ 
And biesi my comiog in ! 

O may thy holy fear command 
Each action, thought, and word; 

Then shall I aweetly close the day, 
Approv*d of thee, my Lord." 


** Author of life, with grateful hean. 

My ev'ning song I'll raise ; 
But O, thy thousand thousand gifts 

Exceed my highest praisci 

What shall I render to thy care, 
Which me this day has kept f 

A thankful heart's the least return, 
And this thou wilt accept. 

Now night has spread her sable wings, 

I would the day review ; 
My errors nicely mark^ and see 

What still I have to do. 

What sins or follies, holy God, 

1 may this day have done, 
I would confess with grief, and pray 

For pardon through thy Son. 

Much of my precious time I've lost ; 

This foolish waste forgive ; 
By one day nearer brought to death. 

May I begin to live !'* 

ySARGE's MEMOtRS.^ 183 


Not inclvded ia the early editionr. 

My dear Brother, Birmingkam, June 4, 1791. 

** I rec^ved jours just before I left Bir- 
mingham, oa Wednesday last — it did me sood, 
and gave me pleasure. I rejoice in your joy-— 
I thank God tor the assistance he grants you in 
publick work. Oh let all the strength and 
power you have be devoted as the Divine Will 
may seem fit— -let it all be employed to exalt 
the Saviour — aim at that, ana that only, my 
dear brother, in all your sermons. It will give 
OS more pleasure another day, thatfhe was ex- 
alted by us, than that we exalted ourselves* 
Would to God we could live more on him per- 
sonally — we should then speak with .more 
pleasure of him publickly ; it is pleasant speak- 
mg for God when we walk with him. May 
your experience and mine confirm it 

Your very affectionate brother, S. P.'* 


Plymouth Dockf July 29, 1791. 
My dear Friend, 

^' One of the students, a Mr. Rowland, is 
now dangerously ill at Plymouth Dock, in a fe- 
ver whicn is very prevalent here, and he lodges 
in a house, where another student from the same 
country (Wales) died a few years since— Lord, 
what is man I Oh my brother, let us improve 
diligently the moments we possess, let us 
watch for souls^ let us spend ourselves in its 
service for them. < I preached thrice yesterday, 


not without pleasure ; God grant it may lie 
with profit. Bow is it with jour soul — ^how do 
you find closet duties P I have had some pre- 
cious seasons at a throne of grace since I reach- 
ed Plymouth : I ^could saj it was good, very 
good, to draw nish to God. I am more and 
more convinced, tnat our private devotion, or 
indevotion, will materially affect the tenor of 
our deportment. God help us to give him our 
bearts— no ftar then but he will have our ser- 
Tices too. I • wish you much of the divine 
presence ; stilt pray for your unworthy brother, 
add still help him to praise. 

I am yours afi^ctionately, S. P." 


Birmingham, March 30, 1795L 
mf dear BfOtfaer, 

*'A violent headach prevents my attending 
our prayer-qieeting this evening, but as I am a 
letter in your debt, I will endeavour to repay 
you, notwithstanding my complaint $ you must 
expect me to be brief: If i fill the sheet it 
must be deemed a work of supererogation. 

'^ You have nrobably heard of the late trans- 
action of our cnurch ; we were lender the disa- 
greeable necessity of separating two of our 
members. It was done publicldy with much 
solemnity, on LordVday, 11th instant ; the 
members seemed much affected**— we appointed 
the following day to be set apart for fasting and 
prayer j we met at nine, and continued con- 
fessing and supplicatinff till half past one-^I 
believe the Lord was with us, both to notice and 
approve ; we began the next day a prayer-meet- 

pbaroe's HEMOinS. 185 

Uig at five o'clock in the morniDgf, to be con- 
tinued every day without intermission, except 
Itord'S'daj— then as usual to be at seven. Be- 
yond mj expectations we have had between 
thirty and fifty persons present most mornings 
since ; I have tbund it to my advantage to at- 
tend regularly ; the effects have been already 
fieen — tne young people have been amazingly 
revived-^they meet four or five times for pray* 
er, every Lord's-day, beside the publick op- 
portunities—in preaching I have enjoyed more 
of the substantial assistance of Divine grace 
than usual, several persons in darkness oi soul 
have been brought into the marvellous light of 
Divine comfort— the hearers have been quick- 
ened ; ten persons have applied for baptism, in 
a less number of days, which, with one before, 
make eleven candidates ; seven of them I be- 
lieve called in Cannon-street, among them the 
youth of sixteen, concerning whom I wrote you 
last Next Lord's-day week, April 8th, I shall 
baptize some of them $ we have not time to re- 
ceive the experience of all, the rest must wait 
another month : who can tell but God may 
bring more to joi^ them who are yet in obscu- 
rity ! I know of some who indeed appear in- 
quirine the way to Zion, with their faces thith- 

^^ 1 cannot but remark, that almost every 
brother who engaged in prayer at our different 
meetings, was led to mention the case of dear 
Mr. Harwood ; I did join their petitions, but 
when they prayed for his recoveiy, my appre- 
hensions 01 his approaching dissolution were 
too strong to permit me to use * the prayer of 


fkith,' unless in the power of #od $ bat whj 
did I doubt the prevalence of prayer ? God 
hath heard, and although the dear man was 
given over bj physicians, apotheeariesi family, 
church, and himself, to the wonder and joy of 
ally from the time that prayer began to rise* he 
began to mend. I saw him this day, and thonsti 
I would not be too saostiine, [ must say he 
Inds fair for recovery. What is too hard for 
tiie Lord ? 

** We are next to divide the whole church 
into district meetings, similar to that of broth- 
er Eld's, with which you sometimes attended | 
I am in hopes it will wonderfully conduce to 
promote the union and affection of the body. 

*^ In addition to all this, each member i» 
numbered on the church book, &c. Cards 
with his or her name, and the corresponding 
number thus ^^ are delivered to every indi- 
vidual, who is to put one on the poor^s plate 
at each ordinance ; the deacons and nunisters 
afterwards compare the numbers and names, 
and w^ioever is found wanting;, is to be waited 
upon in the course of the ensuing week> to in- 
quire the cause of absence— ^thus shall we come 
at a pretty general knowledge of the state of 
the church at large } may we have wisdom i» 
guide us as angels of God. 

** I am, my dear friend, yours very affec- 
tionately, S. P.'» 


Birmmghtimf Jan, 25, 1793. 
**I rejoice, my dear brother, in the delight- 
fill prospect of usefulness which appears to be 

pearoe's memoirs. ISr 

opening upon you ; may the day-spring from 
on high, still continue to enlighten you, and by 
you the benighted souls of your dear fellow 
men around you. Oh that we may preach him 
plainly, faithfully, constantly, practically, and 
ne hath said that his f^ord snail not return 
Yoid. We may as ministers adopt the evan- 
gelical lines of that popular hymn, and with re- 
ference to the subject of our preaching say, 

" None but Jtsut, none but Jesus, 
" Can do helpleA sinners good." 

I am obliged to you for proposing to send 
me some of Ram Kam's hymns, but I sent a 
copy to the press myself fast Monday. Mr. 
Scarrat of Sheffield has oiBTered to print them 
at the expense of paper only, and t mean to 
sell them at one penny each, and give thic prof- 
its t)nly to the mission. I hope you will do 
the same : suppose we raise but two or three 
guineas, it will be rendering some service to the 
glorious cause. 

' <* I am, dear brother, yoara in, the moat 
permanent bonds, S. P.'* 


BimUngkam, Sept. 6, 179^. 
Dear Brother Caldwell, 

*< I wish I bad leisure to write you half a 
doz^ sheets, for I have many thinss to say, 
which would be interesting to you about Can- 
non-street, Bond-street, India, Africa, &c. &c. 
but I am at this juncture very, very busy, in 
preparing our third number of Mission acr 
counts, for the press, and I have just parted 
from my faiher, who has been for a month on a 


▼isit to n^C) which indeed as to mission busi- 
ness, was a month's loss of time, and makes 
the publick expectation bear the harder on me 

*< I returned about six weeks since from Ire- 
land, where I went as a kind of missionary, on 
the foundation of a society, composed of all 
denominations of christians, except Baptists* 
Indeed their interest seems very low there, 
but I did my endeavour to stir them up, and 
the Lord helped me ; so that I hope for better 
days. I had many strong solicitations to come 
and reside in Ireland $ but I told a lady of af- 
fluence (who said she would personally support 
me and my family at her own expense, if I 
would come) that I had found three things in 
Birmingham, which, unless she would insure . 
me in Ireland, I could not think of leaving it— 
health, love and usefulness. ^ 

<< I had large and attentive assemblies, and 
hope I have left some seals to my ministry be- 
hind whom I encouraged to form themselves 
into a society, for prayer and experience, which 
is done, and I hear goes on well Blessed be 

** If New-York were no further oJQT than Dub- 
lin, I would visit you next year $ but I sup- 
pose we shall not meet again below $ the Lord's 
will be done. Oh, that we may meet in heav- 
en at last 

** Ever yours in Christ, S. P." 



The ^reat ends of Chmtian Bioj^aphj are, 
iastractioii ami example. By faitbiullv de- 
scribing the lives of men enuieiit for goodnoas, 
ve not only embalm their memory, but furnish 
ourseWes with fresh materials and motives for 
a holy life* It is abundantly more impressive 
to view the religion of Jesus as operatii^ in a 
4iving character, than to, contemplate it ab- 
stractedly. For this reason, we may suppose 
the Lord the Spirit has condescended to exhib^ 
it first and principally the life of Christ ^ and 
after his, that of many of his eminent follow- 
ers. And for this reason, he by his holy influ- 
ences still furnishes the church with now and 
then a singular example of godlin^s, which it 
is our duty to notice and record. There can 
be no reasonable doubt that the life of Mr. 
Pearce ought to b^ considered as one of these 
examples. May that same divine Spirit who 
had manifestly so great a hand in forming bis 
character, teach us to derive from it both in* 
stniction and edification! 

First : In him we may $ee th$ My ^ffkacy^ 
and by conaequence, the truth of the christian 
r^gton.— -It was long since asked, Wf^ w At 
thait Qvercometh the worU, but he who bdieveth 
that Jesua is the Son of Ood ? This question 
contained a challenge to men of all religions, 
who were then upon the earth. Idolatry nad a 
great diversity of species: every nation wor* 
shipping its own eods, and in modes peculiar 
to themselves : philosophers also were divided 
into numerous sects, each flattering itself thaf 


190 rSAltOE'S MSX6IR9. 

it had found the truth : even the Jews hfti 
their divisions ; their Pharisees, Saddncees, and 
Essenes : but great as many of them were ia 
deeds of divers kinds, an apostle coutd look 
them all in the face, and ask, Who is he thai 
avercometh the world? The same question 
might be^ safel j asked in every succeeding age. 
The various kinds of religions that still pre- 
vail ; the pagan, mahometan, jewish, jpapal, 
or protestant, maj form the exteriors of man 
according to their respective models ; but 
n^here is the man amongst them, save the true 
believer in Jesus, that overcometh the world ? 
Men may cease from particular evils, and as- 
sume a very diflferent character ; may lay aside 
their drunkenness, blasphemies, or debauchee 
ries, and take up with a kind of monkish auster- 
ity, and yet all amount to nothing more than an 
exchange of vices. The lusts of the flesh will 
on many occasions give place to those of the 
mind ; but to overcome the world is another 
thing. By embracing the doctrines of the 
cross ; to feel not merely a dread of the conse- 
quences of sin, but a holy abhorrence of its na* 
ture $ and by conversing with invisible reali** 
ties, to become regardless of the best, and 
fearless of the worst, that thi« world has ta 
dispense ; this is the effect of genuine Chris- 
tianity, and this is a standing proof of its di- 
vine original. Let the most inveterate enemy 
of revelation have witnessed the disinterested 
benevolence of a Paul, a Peter, or a John, and 
whether he would own it or not his conscience 
must have borne testimony that this is true re- 
ligion. The same may "be said of Samuel 
Pearce : whether the doctrine he preached 

fband a place in the hearts of his hearers or 
not, his spirit and life must have approved it- 
self to their conadencea. 

Secondly : In him we see how much may be 
done for wd in a Utile ^ime.—- If his death had 
been foreknown bj his friends, some miriit 
have hesitated whether it was worth while tor 
him to engage in the work of the ministry for 
80 short a period : yet, if we take a view of 
his labours, perhaps there are few lives pro- 
ductive of a greater portion of good. Tliat 
life .is not always the longest which is spun 
out to the greatest extent of '^ days. The first 
of all lives amounted hut to thirty-three years | 
and the most important works pertaining to 
that were wrought in the last three. There is 
undoubtedly a way of rendering a short life a 
long one, and^ a lone life a short one, by filling 
or not filling it with proper materials. That 
time which is squandered away in sloth, or 
trifling pursuits, forms a kind of blank in hu- 
man life : in looking it over there is nothing 
for the mind to rest upon > and a whole life so 
spent, whatever number of years it may con- 
tain, must appear upon reflection short and va- 
cant, in comparison of one filled up widi 
valuable acquisitions, and holy actions, it is 
like the space between us and the sun, which^ 
though immensely greater than that which is 
traversed in a profitable journey, yet being all 
empty space, tne mind goes over it in mock 
less time, and without any satisfaction. If 
^ that life be long which answers life's gr^t 
end,' Mr. Pearce may assuredly be said to 
have come tp his grave in a good old age. And- 

2iu{^ we not aU do much more than we do* iS 



oar lietrts were more in our work 9 Where 
this is wftntiii^, or operates bat in a small de* 
^e, difficulties are magnified into imjpcHMibili- 
tieK ; a lion is in the waj of extraordinary ex^ 
ertion i or if we be indoeed to engage in some- 
thiiu; of this Icindt it will bo at the expense of a 
uniform attention to ordinary duties* But some 
will ask. Row are our hearts to be in oor 
work ? Mr. Perce's heart was halutui^l j in 
his ; and that which kept alire ^the sacred 
flame in him appears to have been,— The con* 
slant habit of conTersiD{|| with divine truth, and 
walking with God in pnTate. 

Thiraly : in him we see in clear and strong 
colours, to what a degree of aoUd peace and joy ^ 
true reHgion will raiee tu, even in the present 
world. A little reli^on, it has been justly 
said, will make us miserable ; but a ffceat deal 
will make us happy. The one will do little 
more than keep the conscience alive, while 
our^numerous defects and inconsistencies are 
perpetually furnishing it with materials to 
scouige us; the other keeps the heart alive, 
and leads us to drink deep at the fountain of 
joy. Hence it is, in a sreat desree, that so 
much of the spirit of bondage, and so little of 
the spirit of adoption prevails among chris- 
tians. Relirious enjoyments with ns are rather 
occasional, tiian habitual | or if in some in- 
stances it be otfierwise, we are ready to suspect 
that it is supported in part bv the strange fire 
of enthnsiasm, and not by the pure flame of 
scriptural devotion^ But, in Mr. Pearce we 
flaw a devotion m>dont, steady, pure, and ner- 
severing | kindled, as we may say, at the altar 
of God, like the fira of the tenpl^ it weAt Mt 

pearce's memoirs. 193 

out by night nor bj day* He seemed to hare 
learnt that heavlenly art, so conspicuous among 
the primitive christians, of converting every 
thing he met with into materials for love, and 
joy, and praise. Hence he Maboured,' as he 
expresses it, * to exercise most love to God 
when suffering most severely ; and hence he so 
affectiugly encountered the billows that over- 
whelmed his feeble frame, crying, 

" Sweet affliction, sweet affliction, 
Singing as I wade to heaven." 

The constant happiness that he enjoyed in 
God was apparent in the effects of his sermons 
upon others. Whatever 'we feel ourselves we 
shall ordinarily communicate to our hearers : 
and it has been already noticed, that one of the 
most distinguishing properties of his discourses 
was,-^that they inspired the serious mind with 
the liveliest sensations of happiness. They de- 
scended upon the audience, not indeed like a 
transporting flood, but like a shower of dew : 
gently insinuating itself into the heart, insen- 
sibly dissipating its gloom, and gradually draw- 
ing forth the graces of faith, hope, love, and 
joy : while the countenance was brightened al- 
most into a smile, tears of pleasure would rise, 
and glisten, and fall from the admiring eye. 

What a practical confutation did his life af- 
ford of the slander so generally cast upon the 
' religion of Jesus, that it fills the mind with 
gloom and misery! No: leaving futurity out 
of the question, tne whole world of unbelievers 
might be challenged to produce a character from 
among them who possessed half his enjoyments. 

Fourthly : From his example we are furnish- 
ed with the greatest eneouragemmty while puf' 


194 PEAROe's MElSfOIES/ 

suing the path of duty^ to place our trust if^ 
God. The situation in which he left his fami- 
lj9 we have seen already, was not owing to an 
indifference to their interest, or an improvident 
disposition, or the want of opportunity to have 
provided for them ; but to a steady and deter- 
mined obedience to do what he accounted the 
will of God. He felt deeply for them, and we 
all felt with him, and longed to be able to as- 
sure him before his departure, that they would 
be amply provided for $ but owing to circum- 
stances which have already been mentioned, this 
was more than we could do. This was a point in 
which he was called to die in faith ; and indeed 
so he did* He appears to have had no idea of 
that flood of kinaness, which, immediately af- 
ter his decease, flowed from the religious pub- 
lick : but he believed in God, and cheerfully 
left all with him. * Oh that I could speak^' 
said he to Mrs. Pearce a little before his death, 
^ I would tell a world to trust a faithful Grod* 
Sweet afBiction ; now it worketh glory, glory I* 
And when she told him the workings of her 
mind, he answered, ' Oh trust the Lord! If he 
lift up the light of his countenance upon you, as 
he has done upon me this dav, all your mountains 
will become mole-hills. 1 feel your situation : 
I feel your sorrows : but he who takes care of 
sparrows, will care for you and my dear chil- 


The liberal contributions which have since 
been made, though they do not warrant minis- 
ters in general to expect the same, and much 
less to neglect providing for their own families 
on such a presumption ; yet they must needs be 
coiisider^A aa 9k suiguUr eacouragement, when 

fearoe's memoirs. 195 

we are satisfied that we are in the path of du- 
ty, to be inordinately ^ careful for npthing, but 
in everjr thing, by prayer and supplication, with 
thanksgiving, to let our requests be made known 
unto God.' 

Finally : In him we see that the way to true 
excellence is not to affect eccentrieit'yy nor to as- 
pire after the performance of a few splendid ac- 
tions ; hut to Jill up our lives vnfh a soher^ 
modesty sincere^ affectionate^ assiduous^ and 
uniform conduct. Real greatness attaches to 
character ^ and character arises from a course 
of action. Solid reputation as a merchant a- 
rises not from a man's having made his fortune 
by a few successful adventures ; but from a 
course of wise economy and honourable indus- 
try, which, gradually accumulating, advances 
by pence to shillings, and by shillings to 
pounds. The most excellent philosophers are 
not those who have dealt chiefly in splendid 
speculations, and looked down upon the ordi- 
nary concerns of men as things beneath their 
notice, but those who have felt their interests 
tinited with the interests of mankind, and bent 
their principal attention to things of real and 
publick utility. It is much the same in reli- 
gion. We do not esteem a man for one, or two, 
or three good deeds, any farther than as these 
deeds are indications of the real state of his 
mind. We do not estimate the character of 
Christ himself so much from his having given 
sight to the blind, or restored Lazarus from 
the grave, as from his going about continually 
domg good. 

These single attempts at great thines are fre- 
quently the efforts of a vain mind, which pants 


196 peaace's memoirs. 

for fame, and has not patience to wait for it, 
nor discernment to know the way in which it is 
obtained. One pursues the shade, and it flies 
from him ; while another turns his back upon, 
it, and it follows him. The one aims at once 
to climb the rock, but falls ere he reaches the 
summit; the other walkine round it, in par- 
suit of another object, gradually and insensi- 
bly ascends till he reaches it : seeking the ap- 
probation of his God, he finds with it that of 
nis fellow-Christians. 






OCTOBER 16, 1799. 

We are called together to day upon a most 
volemn and affecting occasion. Our business 
here is to convey the precious remains of a dear 
departed brother to his long home, to the house 
appointed for all living. The subject of our 
present contemplation is of no ordinary- kind ; 
it is that whicn ought to .come home to every 
man's bosom, because it is that in which we are 
all interested. It is not like many other sub- 
jects, which, while some are materially affect- 
ed by them, to others they arc articles of total 
indifferency $ but death speaks in an imperious 
tone, and demands the attention of all. 

Death ! solemn sound ; the bare annunciation 
of which should arrest the mind of every individ- 
ual in this numerous assembly. Where is the 
man that liveth and shall not see death 1 When 
Xerxes viewed his incalculable army, it is said 
he wept, from the consideration that in a few 
years, not one of that prodigious host would be 
living. Whether the Persian really wept or not, 
I am not sure i but when I consider that in a 

19B MR. brewer's oration. 

fe<e, comparatively a very few years, not one 
of all whom I am now acfdressing but must be 
laid as low as the breathless corpse of our dear 
departed brother, I feel my mind, deeply affect- 
ed. And, O that I could but awaken a due 
concern in every bosom about this truly mo- 
mentous subject. 

Thus stands the irrevocable decree of the 
immutable God — It is appointed unto all men 
ONCE TO DIE. The wise and the unwise, the 

Eatriclan and plebeian, the monarch and the 
eggar, must submit alike to the strong arm of 
this u niversal conqueror, the king of terrors. A 
consideration like this, should sink deep inta 
every man's heart ; but alas! roan is a strange 
being, loth to learn what most intimately be- 
longs to him. The most awful things lose their 
effect by their frequency 5 and hence it is, that 
the death of a fellow creature is, in general, no* 
more regarded than ^Uhe fall of an antumnal 
leaf in the pathless desert." Wretched apathy I 
Fatal insensibility! 

Let us for a moment meditate upon the ef- 
fect subsequent to the triumph of the last ene- 
my. — What melancholy ravages does he roake, 
even in this world! He causes the fairest 
flower to wither, often in the morning $ he 
stains the pride of all sublunary glory ; and 
casts the noblest work of God into the dost. 
When he takes to himself hid great power, 
none can stay his hand. Fixed in his purpose, 
and irresistible in the execution of the same, 
he stalks, untouched by the pangs of agonizing 
nature, the distress of helpless infancy, the 
poignant grief of paternal affection, or the bitter- 
est sorrows of connubial love. Relentlessly he 

MR. brewer's ORATIODr. 199 

breaks in upon domestic happiness, frustrates 
the most benevolent designs, and casts a dark 
shade upon the brightest prospects. In fine, 
cruelty marks his footsteps, and desolation 
and anguish are his common aflendants. 

If we look beyond the scene which presents 
itself to our view in this life, and, by the aid 
of revelation, endeavour to substantiate the se- 
rious realities of death, beyond ^ that bourn 
from whence no traveller returns!' if we look 
into the eternal world, and there behold what 
foUows death, surely we cannot remain un- 

Man is immortal | it is the flesh only that 
dies : The spirit is incorruptible. Hence 
death is the most eventful period. The body 
returns to dust ; but the spirit ascends to God,' 
and enters then upon its eternal state. But 
the state of all men is not alike beyond the 
grave— 7%c tvicked is driven aivay in his wick- 
edness. The guilty sinner then knows, that it 
is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the 
living God. Guilt subjects him to the divine 
displeasure ; and moral depravity unfits him 
for that place, into which nothing that defileth 
can possibly enter. Fearful moment! All 
his hopes are now like a spider's web ; his im- 
aginaiy refuges fail ; and the wrath of God 
*^ beats upon his naked soul, in one eternal 
storm." The rich roan in Luke xvi. can tell 
us all about it. He died, and was buried^ 
and in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in tor- 
ment. And thus it will happen to all, who 
know not God. He that made them will have 
no mercy on them, whatever their respective 
situation may have been in this life. JDeath, 


thftt mighty leveller, will reduce them all to a 
Slid equality. He that fared sumptuously ev- 
ery day, had not a drop of water to cool his 
burning tongue, when once he had passed the 
tremendous gulfr 

How different is the state of the good roan I 
Tlie righteous hath hope in his death. The day 
of his death is infinitely better than the day of 
his birth : It is his coronation day, the nnal 
close of all his troubles. He shall sorrow no 
more. Whatever he underwent in passing 
through this vale of tears ; however numerous 
and severe his trials, they are all over. The 
Lamb in the midst of the throne shall feed him. 
He shall eat of the tree of life which is in the 
midst of the paradise of God. He enters upon 
his rest, and shall go no more out for ever. 
He is happy, as God is happy ; and saved with 
an everlasting salvation. 

Thus death is always a solemn, and affecting 
event : but sometimes, circumstances render it 
peculiarly so : and this is now the case. 
We have convened no common mortal to the 
grave. Here lies the ,cold, the exanimated 
clay of a ^ood man ; of an eminently good 
man ^ a faithful, highly favoured minister of 
tlie glorious Gospel of the blessed God. When 
a good man dies, it is a common loss ; thus 
the Psalmist viewed it: Helpf Lor d^ for the 
^odly man ceasethi The death of such a man 
IS a national loss, for <<the strength of empire 
is religion." Righteousness exalteth anatiofu 
-^Good men are the salt of the earth. It is 
particularly a loss to the cause of God ^ on 
earth : there is one labourer less in the vine- 
yard f one watchman less upon the walls of 

MR. breweb's oratiok. 201 

Jerusalem. The death of that good man, whom 
we are now bewailing, is a great loss to the 
churches of Christ. His ardent love for the 
whole truth, his flaming zeal, his chaste con- 
versation, will be long remembered by many. 

But jou, mj brethren, who compose the 
Church and Congregation in this place, jou 
havf had a great breach made upon you ; a 
breach that cannot easily be repaired. You 
have lost a valuable minister ; a man who la-* 
boured hard for your eternal good ; a man whose 

frand aim was to make you happy forever* 
'ou know how frequently he has warned you 
to flee from the wrath to come ; how plainly 
he has pointed you to the Lamb of God, as the 
only sacrifice for your sins. Yes, ye are wit- 
nesses how he has prayed for you, and wept 
over you. You have often heard him raise 
within these walls, his charming voice, in pub- 
lishing glad tidings to Zion. This night twelve 
months, the place that I am now occupying, 
was occupied by him.^ This very night twelve 
months, you heard the Gospel in this very place 
from his mouth : But it is all over $ you shall 
hear his voice, you shall seo his face no more. 
There lies all that could die of a good man ; 
a faithful minister, a tender father, and an 
affectionate husband. His lips are closed in 
silence, and a long night hangs upon his eyes. 
Dust is returning to dust, and corruption al- 
readjr commences its riot. 

Painful as the stroke has been to you, there 
are those, on whom it has fallen with greater 

* Mr. P. was buried under the pew occupied by his 
family j it being a common practice to bury under meet- 
ing-houses in Birmingham. 


SOS MR. brewer's oration. 

severity. You may be provided with another 
minister : but who can make up the loss to his 
bereaved family ? Who can restore him to the 
deeply afflicted partner of his life ? Who like 
him, can sooth her sorrows, and cheer her on 
the rugged path of time ? Who can restore 
the fond father, to five dear helpless babes P 
Cruel death! Inexorable monster! What hast 
thou done ? — But the Lord reigneth, and we 
will be stilU 

The present dispensation is not only solemti 
and affecting, but it is likewise alarming. It has 
a loud voice $ not to attend to it would be high- 
ly criminal. It speaks to us all. Death al- 
ways speaks loudly ; but some deaths louder 
than others. The present speaks loud enough 
to be heard by this church and congregation. 
Methinks, with strong emphasis, it new saith. 
Unto you^ O men of this place^ I call* Tou 
have had a great loss $ but is there not a cause ? 
God forbid that I should charee the death of 
your minister upon you ! Yet I know it is pos- 
sible for a people to murder their nunister ; 
and that by the most cruel means. There 
needs neither the poison nor the dagger ; it 
it may be done effectually without eitner. I 
hope it is quite inapplicable ; but it may not 
be altogether useless, to ask. Are there none 
of you, who have pierced him through with 
many sorrows 1 Has his heart never beea 
wrun^ by your unkindness ? Has your mis- 
behaviour, in your christian prbfession, never 
caused him to say, O that J had in the wHdet^ 
ness^ a lodging-place of way-faring meny that 
J might leave my people and go Jrom them 9 
Jer.^ix. S. Though I thus speak, 1 am sore 

BftR. brewer's oration. 203 

Ithas no general application. Few men were bet- 
ter beloved bjr their people than be was. Your 
many prayers for his recovery, your tender 
solicitude for his welfare, your present evident 
distress, all speak for you : your tears do you 
honour. But Jet me speak it again ; should 
there be a- cruel individual amongst you, to 
whom the charge applies, I would not for a 
world, be that man : He must answer for it 
another day. God will avenge his own elect. 

Where this has not been the case — where no- 
thing but kindness marked your behaviour to- 
wards your departed friend, has he had no 
occasion to weep in secret on your account, 
because though you esteetned the man, you neg- 
lected his message ? Ah, brethren! it is to be 
feared, unless your state, as a church and con- 

tregation, be singular, that the word preached 
id not profit all of you. Some of you may yet 
be in your sins. God has borne long with you 9 
but he may have been weary of forbearing ; he 
may have been angry at your infidelity } and 
in judgment taken away his servant I do not 
say this is the case ; but if it be only a, possible 
case, it should cause searchings of heart a- 
mongst you. 

It is a providence that speaks to us all, as 
mortal mm. In a little time, according to the 
common course of nature, the place that now 
knows us, shall know us no more. Time, with 
rapid wing, bear& us away to that place, where 
no device nor work is found ; to that state, 
where there is no distinction, but that of just 
and unjust. But who can reckon upon the 
common extent of human life ? Behold, before 
pur eyeS} a young man> who had not lived out 

304 MR. brewer's ORATIOk. 

half his days, called to eternity in the thirty- 
fourth year of his life. Should not this awak- 
en our concern, and excite us to make that im- 
portant inquiry, Who shcdl be the next f He 
who bids the fairest for length of years, may be 
the first to fall. Let us then so number our 
days, that we may apply our hearts unto wis- 

We will now ** turn to the bright reverse of 
this mortifying scjene." We have hitherto 
looked at the dark side of the cloud, let us now 
contemplate its luminous one. 

Death we admit is a penalty — by sin came 
death. Death is an enemy — the last enemy; 
but blessed be God, he is a conquered enemy. 
The Captain of our salvation has destroyed 
him who had the power of death. Influenced 
by the faith of God's electa believers in all ages 
have triumphed over death ; they have sang 
with their expiring breath, and exulted amidst 
the swellings of Jordan. 

Death is amongst the privileges of the chil- 
dren of God. Death is yours. He meets 
them as a friend, as an envoy commissioned by 
their heavenly Father, to bring them to his 
throne. Our eyes have frequently beheld the 
victory of faith, in the dark valley. Assaulted 
on either hand by pale disease, and its long 
train of attendants, we have seen good men 
rising superior to all the evils of their situation, 
feeling a *< majesty in death," and entering the 
eternal world, shouting, TTianks be to God who 
hath given us the victory ! 

This is not all. The total destruction of 
death is laid in the irreversible counsel of the 
Most High. The last enemy shall be destroy- 


ed. Death himself must die. The taberna- 
cle df God shall be with men ; he will wipe 
away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall 
be no more death. The sea shall give up its 
dead, and those t)iat are in their graves shall 
come forth. Then the Lord Jesus will make 
his triumph complete, and cast death and hell 
into the lake of fire and brimstone. The re- 
animated dust of the redeemed shall then be 
perfectly released from the bondage of corrup- 
tion, and made like unto the glorious body of 
their great Head: the whole number of the 
elect snail then be presented before the presence 
of the divine ^lory, with exceeding great joy. 

One grand indispensable inquiry yet remains:. 
By. what means may we attain to the resurrec- 
tion of the just ? In search of this important 
subject, we are not left to wander in the maze 
of uncertainty and doubt 5 the way in to the ho- 
liest is made manifest There areithree things 
absolutely requisite for a man to be acquainted 
with, before he can enter into life. 

First ; The pardon of our sins. The scrip- 
ture proposes tnis unspeakable gift by the blood 
of Jesus. We have redemption through his 
bloody even the forgiveness of our sins. Eph. i. 7. 

Secondly $ The justification of our peftons, 
-—Provision for which is made by the obedience 
of the Son of God. He is the end of the law for 
righteousness to every one that betieveth. Rom. 
X. 4. 

Thirdly : The sanctifieation of our nature. 
Jesus is of Ood made unto us sanctifieatioru 1 
Cor. i. 30; By the influence of his Spirit up- 
on our hearts, *^ we are made partakers of the 
divine iiature $ sanctified in body, soul, and 


306 lot. bbewer's oration. 

spirit ; and changed thus into the divine iniag(!f 
as by the Spirit of our God." 2 Cor. iii. 8.' 

liiis is the onlj method of salvation counte- 
nanced in scripture ; and it seems a method, 
^^just to God, and safe to man." 

To conclude. Though we sorrow to-daj, we 
do not sorrow as those wno have no hope. God, 
who has taken away our dear brother, will take 
care of his. He will be a husband to the for- 
lorn widow, and a father to the dear tender 
babes. •/? good man leaveth an inheritance to 
his ehildren^a children. Grod will provide ; he 
will surely do them good $ he has the hearts of 
all men in his hands ; he will raise up friends 
for them ; and eventuailj make it appear, that 
even this dark dispensation, is amongst the all 
things, that work together for good. 

He that has the government upon his shoul- 
ders, will take care of you, my brethren, as a 
church. A pastor is provided for you ^ and he 
who knows him, will bring him amongst you in 
his own way^ and time. Trust in the Lord f he 
will never forsake Zion $ her walls are ever be- 
fore him. Take his word for your rule ; live 
according to the same ; seek him by prayer and 
supplication ; and you shall yet praise him. 

W ^now bid farewell, a long farewell, to the 
sleeping dust of our departed brother f but» 
blessed be God, though it will be a long fare- 
well, it will not be an everlasting one. We 
shall meet again. What we are tc^ay sowing 
in dishonour, shall be raised in glorv. The 
trumpet shall sound $ our brother will arise ; 
we shall meet, no more to part. When Jesu£k 
comes, he will brinff all his saints with biixu 
Qomfort ye ouJ^ another with these things. 

% * 

The pnmised pnMBce of Ghiitt wHh hu pe<^1e « touree of comolatioa 
under th« most p«iAfuI bereavementi. 











John xiv. 18. 

/ tviO not have you comfortkss. I wUl come 

unto you. 

So deeply am I sensible of the loss sustained by 
this church in general, not to say by the near- 
est relative of my dear departed brother, that on 
a partial view of their circumstances, (and our 
▼lews, especially of afflictive events, are too 
commonly partial) I could not be surprised, 
were some now present ready to exclaim, ^* Is 
there any sorrow like unto our sorrow, where- 
with the Lord has this day afflicted us P" But 
though I scarcely know where a church could 
sustain an equal loss, by the removal of so 
young a pastor 5 nor can I conceive, there ex- 

206 DR. ryland's sermon. 

ists a widaw, whom death has plundered of a 
richer store of blessings, by taking from her^ and 
from her infant care, the guide of their youth ; 
yet, on more mature consideration, we must 
not admit that lamentation to be applicable, 
even to them that feel the most pungent grief 
in this assembly. The event which has occa- 
sioned our present meeting, must deeply affect 
even strangers, whose hearts know how to feel; 
but all the dearest friends of the deceased 
must acknowledge, that the days of tribulation, 
which preceded this mournful evening, were 
not the season of displaying the Lord's anger, 
but of the clear manifestation of his faithful- 
ness and love. They were to htm the days of 
heaven upon earth. Surely they who drank 
with him the deepest out of his cup of afflic- 
tion, could find no savour of the curse, no, not 
at the bottom ; nor could they drink the bitter, 
without tasting also of the sweet, which was 
not sparingly dropt into it, but copiously 
infused. And after such proofs and illustra- 
tions of the divine fidelity, I cannot but be* 
lieve, that she who needs them most of all, 
shall find farther stores of consolation laid up 
for her relief ; since God her Maker is her 
husband, who giveth songs in the night. 

This church also must be reminded, that 
there was a church at Jerusalem, near eighteen 
centuries ago, which sustained a loss unspeak- 
ably greater than that which tliey now bewail ; 
while yet the sorrow, which was then endured, 
was quickly turned into joy. And your affec- 
tionate pastor, who, both in health and in sick- 
ness, cared so much for your welfare, did not 
hesitate to recommend to your attention, the 

DR. rtlanb's sermon. 309 

kind assarance which was given for their re- 
lief; as believing it to contain ground of en- 
covrageroept, on which you also are authorized 
to depend. He who said to his dear dis- 
ciples, ** I will not leave you comfortless or- 
phans, I will come unto vou,'^ has the same re- 
spect to his whole church in every age : and 
jou, my brethren, may as safely rely on bis 
gracious promise, as his very apostles. 

Yes, beloved, we are autnonzed to make a 
general application of this word of consolation; 
and must affirm. That the promised presence 
of the blessed Redeemer is the best source of 
comfort, to all his people, in every time of 

In complying with the request of my dear 
deceased brother, 1 shall first consider the sub* 
ject in reference to those, to whom it was im- 
mediately addressed, and then endeavour to 
apply it to the present occasion. 

First. Let us notice the immediate reference 
of this declamation, to our Lord's disciples, 
virho were then favoured with his bodily pres- 

You are well aware that the words I have 
read were spoken b^ the blessed Jesus^ to 
those who followed him in the days of his hu- 
miliation; and that when he thus addressed 
them, sorrow had filled their hearts, because 
he had Just announced his approaching depart- 
ure. He came from the Fatner, and was come 
into the world, and though the world was made 
by him, yet the world knew hiim no( ; but he 
had made himself known to these his disciples, 
whom he had chosen out of the world ; and 



now when he was about to leave them, and go 
unto the Father, though his stupid and un- 
grateful countrymen would rather rejoice at 
his leaving the earth, than bewail it, jet his 
disciples could not but weep and lament and 
be sorrowful ; and surely, well they might, 
at the thought of losing such an invaluable 
friend ! 

Especially we might expect this to be the 
case, if we reflect on the manner in which he 
was to be removed from them. They were to 
see him falsely actused, unjustly condemned, 
and cruelly murdered ; being nailed to the 
cross with wicked hands, suspended between 
two thieves, and while thus numbered with 
transgressors, insulted and derided in his last 
agonies. Yes, he would be treated as the ob- 
ject of national abhorrence and execration, and 
that by the only people upon earth, who pro- 
fessed to be the worshippers of the true God. 
And his disciples must either view this barba« 
rous treatment of their blessed Lord ; or hide 
themselves irom the shocking scene, by for- 
saking him in the hour of distress. In the 
meanwhile, he was also apparently abandoned 
by God himself^ the zeal of whose house had 
consumed him ; the Lord was pleased to bruise 
him, and put him to grief; he was resolved to 
make his soul an offering for sin, and therefore 
he called on his sword to awake against him, who 
was their good Shepherd ; though he was one 
in covenant, yea, one in nature with himself; 
who could without robbery claim equality with 
God. What could be more surprising, dis- 
tressing and perplexing to his disciples^ than 
such a series of events 1 


DR. rtland's sermok. 211 

While Jesus was with them he had fed them, 
and kept them as a shepherd doth his flock ; 
he had laid them like lambs in his bof^om, and 
led them on gradually in the paths of truth and 
righteousness, as they were able to bear it. 
He had been gentle among them, as a nursing 
father is gentle towards his little children; 
pitying their infirmities, rectifying their mis- 
takes, supplying their wants, healing their 
maladies ; manifesting to them his Father^s 
mrill, and keeping them in his name : and must 
they now lose his visible * presence, and eee 
him no more ? * 

He had been little more than three and Mtr-. 
ty years in the world, and most of them had 
known him but a very small part of that peri- 
od ; they had, howevef, now beheld his giory» 
and were convinced that it was the glory of 
the only begotten of the Father, full of grace 
and truth. They were satisfied that h^ alone 
had the words of eternal life ; they believed 
and knew that he was the Christ, the Son of 
the living God ; though at present they under- 
stood but imperfectly that plan of redemp- 
tion, which rendered it expedient and necessa- 
- ry, that he should sufier all these things and 
tnen enter into glory. This remaining igno- 
rance must abundantly enhance their grief^ at 
the intimations given them of his departure 
being at hand."*^ 

* The conceptions of the disciples, on the subject of 
Christ's atoning sacrifice, appear to have been much less 
distinct than those of David, Isaiah, and many of the 
Old Testament saints, who lived before the declension 
of the Jewish church j which appears to have lost much 
of its spiritual light, and to have become more and more^ 
carnalized, from the days of Malachi till the coming c" 

313 1>B. RtLANB^S SEEMON. 

But in these words, their gracious Lord sng-^ 
gests, that they had no occasion to sink under 
2ieir sorrows. He would rioi heme them com-' 
fortUss^ like destitute orphans^ who had no af- 
fectionate parent, no wise tutor, no faithful 
guardian, to supply their wants, sjiii{»athize 
"with them, protect them from evil, or instruct 
them in the way of duty. No, he had promised 
them his Holy Spirit^ to be their Comforter aad 
Monitor ; and here he engages also, to come 
again to them himself; / vnU come unto you^ 
saith our Lord. This promise waa fulfilled ta 
them in several ways— 

1. In his repeated appearmces to them, after 
his resurrection. Thus, as he suggests in the 
next verse, although in a little while,, the world 
should see him no more, yet they should see 
him I and that sight should be the pledge that 
his word should hold good, *' Because I live» 
ye shall live also." Accordingly the Evangel- 
ists attest, that he *' shewed himself alive af- 
ter his passion, by many infallible proofs, unto 
the Apostles whom he had chosen, being seea 
of them forty days," before he was taken up 
into glory : for God who raised 'him up, the 

onr Lord. Aod as it seemed necessary tliat this general 
declension, and ignorance of thenatute oftiie Messiah'^ 
character and kin&dora should be suffered to take place^ 
in order to the fulfilment of prophecy, in the death o^ 
our Saviour, by the hands or his vnn countrymen ; so- 
there was an expediency, and a display of wisdom in 
concealing from the disciples the necessity and glorious 
design of Christ's death, that they might not rejoice in 
80 awful an event, till after it was over. Had their ideas 
been clear on this head, they must have rejoiced in his 
sufferings at the^ very time of them ; but it seemed more 
fitting that they should moarn them, and that their 
tforrow should l!e tamed into joy, after his resnrractioit. 

DR. ryland's sermom. 213 

tiiird day after his crucifixion, "shewed him 
open] J, not to all the people, but unto witnesses 
cnosen before of God, even to us," says Peter, 
^Vwho did eat and drink with him after he rose 
from the dead ; whom he commanded to preach 
unto the people, and to testify that he is ap- 
■poiiited to be the Judge of the living and the 
dead ; and that to him all the prophets gave 
ivitness, that through his name, whoever be- 
lieveth in him, shall receive remission of sins :" 
Therefore, though he soon left them again, be- 
ing carried up into heaven, yet their under- 
standings having been opened by him, that 
they might understand the scriptures, and see 
how it behoved him to suffer and to rise again, 
** they worshipped him, when he was parted 
from them, and returned to Jerusalem with 
great joy," where they waited to be endued 
with power from on nigh, and received the 
promised effusion of the Spirit, not many days 
afterward. -But, 

2. It received a more permanent accom- 
plishment, in the continued enjoyment of his 
spiritual presence and divine influence. We 
fully ascertain this privilege to be included in 
the text, by comparing this promise, lunll come 
unio you^ with those declarations, recorded 
by Matthew, which admit of no solution with- 
out the acknowledgment of Christ's proper 
divinity : ** Where two or three are gathered 
together in my name, there am J in the midst of 
them. And to ! I am with you alway to the 
end of the world, Jimen.^^ 

3. At the end of the world it shall receive a 
farther fulfilment, by our Lord's coming again 
in that human nature, which *< it behoved heav- 

314 OK. rtland's sssmokl 

en to receive^ until the times of the restitutioii wf 
all the things of which God spake bj the moatk 
of his holy prophets, since tne world began." 
Then he wiio went to prepare a place for his 
disciples, and all his subsequent followers, will 
come again, and receive them to himself; that 
where he is, there they may be also. Then 
they who were troubled for their adherence to 
}iis cause shall enter into rest ; when the Lord 
Jesus shall be revealed from heaven. At that 
same period will he take vengeance on them 
who know not God^ and who obey not the 
gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, and punish 
them with everlasting destruction ; when he 
shall <yme to be glorified in his saints, and ad- 
mired m all them who believe. For God will 
bring with him them who now sleep in Jesus, 
while the believers who remain, at that time, 
alive upon the earth, shall feel a change pass 
upon their bodies, to render them like those 
who are newly raised from the dead, and all 
^^ shall be caught up tosether to meet the Lord 
in the air, and so shall we ever be with the 
Lord.—- Wherefore,'' says Paul, <* comfort one 
another with these words." He who testified 
these things to his disciples, while he was yet 
with them, repeated his promise long afrav 
wards, tp his servant John, saying, ** Sorely, 
I come quickly." May we unite with that 
beloved disciple, in saying, ^* Aroen.-^Even so 
come. Lord /esus." 

And now, my brethren, if this assurance 
was sufficient to relieve the minds of the Apos* 
ties, when they lost the bodily presence of their 
Divine Master, may we not sa^ly proceed^ 

)>B. byland's sehmon. 315 

Secondly s To apply the Bame consolation to 
the relief of those who are most affected bj 
the^ late bereaving providence. 

This Church has lost a most diligent, faith- 
fnU affectionate, and valuable pastor $ and far 
be it from me to make light of your loss* All 
those churches who knew him only by occa* 
sional visits, all good men who had any oppor- 
tunity of appreciating his worth, must sympa- 
thize with you ; while they grieve to think tnat 
they themselves, who saw his face so seldom^ 
shall see it no more. His brethren in the min- 
istry, who eqjoyed the pleasure and advantage 
of his friendship and correspondence, feel a 
loss which they, will ever deplore. How thea 
must you regret his removal, who were, many 
of you, the seals of his ministry | who, all of 
you, hoped long to eiyoy his constant labours ; 
and for whose welfare he laid himself out, with 
such unremitting assiduity ? The pastor whose 
libsence you mourn, possessed sucti an assem- 
blage of lovely graces and acceptable qualifica- 
tions, as are foujiiunited butseldom, evenin trul/ 
christian ministers. He had the firmest attach- 
ment to evangelical truth, and the most con- 
stant regard to practical godliness ; he united 
remarkable soundness of judgment, with un- 
common warmth of affections. , I never saWy 
at least in one of his years, such active, ardent 
s&eal, conjoined with such gentleness, modesty, 
and deep humility ; so much of the little child^ 
and so much of the Evangelist, I can scarcely 
forbearsaying, of the Apostle of Jesus Christ I 
know not how to flatter you, with the hope of 
<^tainin^ another minister ; or myself, with the 
expectation of finding another friend in whom 

SI6 DR. rtland's sermon. 

a// these charming qualities shall be found, in 
an equ<d degree. He was, indeed, ^< a burning 
and a shining light, and we rejoiced in his light, 
for a season $" t>ut now we must lament, that 
he shines no more on earth ^ though we doubt 
not, that he shines like the sun, in the kingdom 
of his Father. 

While he abode among us, his affections were 
evidently and eminently in heaven $ his work, 
his family, and his people, were -the onlj ob- 
jects of regard, whicn made him willing to fore- 
go the bliss of the eternal world. And when 
he perceived that it was the Lord's will he 
should depart, your welfare was still his chief 
concern. For your consolation and benefit, he 
wished this pfassage to be considered at his fu- 
neral. He once alluded to another scripture, 
but laying that aside, lest it should occasion 
too much Deing said of himself, he fixed upon 
this, remarking, *^ If he come to you, all will 
be well, you need not regret my removal." So 
you see, brethren, the design of your dear pas- 
tor was to encourage you* to claim- a share in the 
promised presence oi the Redeemer ; which he 
knew extended to all his churches, and to eve- 
ry individual believer. He perceived that he 
was going to leave you, he could not promise 
to come again to you, though it was his great 
consolation to hope that you, in succession, will 
follow him ; and meanwhile, the presence of 
his ^reat Master, as to his divine nature, and 
the increasing influence of his. Spirit, would be 
a sufficient compensation for any loss you could 
sustain by liis departure. The spiritual pres- 
ence of Girist could make up for the want of 
his bodily presence^ to those who knew what it 

VtR. RiajkUJ^'a SEBMON. 817 

waa to eqjoy the lattery it mast then assuredly 
be sufficient to supply the absence of anjr un- 
der-sheph^rd. With this thought my dear 
brother consoled himself, in the beginning of 
h\» illness : ^^If,^' said he, in a letter writtea 
the first JLord's-dajr that he was confined 
from publick worship* ^' If I am to depart 
hence, to be no more seen, I know the Lord 
can carry on his caus6 as well without me as 
with roe | he who redeemed the sheep with his 
blood, will never suffer them to perish for want 
of shepherding, especially, since he himself is 
the chief Shepherd of souls." 

Let me therefore attempt to assist you by di- 
recting your attention to the grounds on which 
you may safely expect the fulfilment of the 
promise, the magnitude of the promise itself^ 
and the conseq^uent obligations under which 
you are laid by lU 

!• Consider the ground on which you may 
safely build an expectation that our Lord Jesus 
will come unto you. 

Our Jjord^a Mlity to make good 9uch a prom* 
itfe, must here be noticed. Not only had he an 
inherent power to lay down his life, and to take 
it up again, in consequence of which he spent 
forty days with his disciples, before his ascen- 
sion ; but he has power to perform his standing 
engagements with his whole church, of being 
toUh thenh almiy^ to the end of the toorla, 
whenever, and wherever, tu>o or three ^re gfUh- 
ered together in his ncm^ ; which promises must 
be connected with the text to enable you to 
claim any part in the consolation it will ad- 
minister. Some modern enthusiasts} (who o^a 


218 im. RniAND'd sbbakjok. 


believe any thing which does not imply Omi 
they are so guUty as to need the incarnate Soq 
of God to make an atonement for their sins, by 
his precious blood) have fancied that the body 
of JesuSf who, according to them, was a mere 
man like ourselves, ascended no higher than 
the atmosphere which surrounds the earth, and 
that he occasionally descends from thence to 
this globe, to visit invisibly and one at a time, 
the various congregations of Christians. This 
idea, it has been said, ** cannot possibly do us 
any harm;" but alas! it can do us but little 
good. If the Saviour should thus visit all those 
who are called by his name, our turn to be so 
favoured may occur but once in a life-time ; or 
whether they who have invented this solution of 
Matt xviii. £0, would admit us, whom they 
represent as irrational idolaters, to enjoy anjr 
share in his visits, I know not. Nor would it 
be of consequence, whether it were granted or 
denied j a mere man surveying us invisibly, 
now and then, could impart to us no spiritual 
blessing. But, if our great High-Priest be, 
indeed, in the most exalted sense, the Son of 
Grod, who is ** passed through?^ these lower 
heavens, and is ** made Mgher than the heav- 
ens," haying ^^ ascended up far above all heav- 
(SDS, that he might JUi all thinga^^^ (according 
to the passage which we heard explained this 
momingt) and, if all power be given unto him in 
heaven, and in earth, <Aen, my brethren, your 
faith stands upon a firm foundation. He who. 

Eph. iv, 9. 10. 
t By Brother West, of Waatsse. 

ML STLAim's SBBMON. 1119 

^lien he was upon earth, as to his humaBitf ^ 
could speak of himself as being ^*ia heaven ;'' 
can as easily grant yea the presence of his Di-> 
▼initj, now us human nature is in the worlii 

Let the extent of his regard to his churchy be 
also remembered. In his last prayer with his 
disciples, he prayed not alone for them who 
were present, but for ail who should believe 
through their word.— And *^ he ever liveth to 
make intercession for"^ all them, who come un* 

* fHvyj^«N«y wup «vr«f • Heb. yiii. 25. Mr. Bel- 
ahani, a piuteseed auvooate of rational religioni supposei 
that the writer a of the New Testament themselves, an- 
nexed no very disHnet idea to the phrase of Christ's 
making intercession, because irrvy^nMiv, he observes^ 
•zpresses any interference of one person /or or against 
another. It is true, that in the epistle to the Romans, 
Paul mentions Christ's making intercession FOR us, 
▼iii. 34 ; and Elijah's making intercession AGAINST 
Israel, li. 3. And he uses this same verb, but with dif> 
ferent prepositions, in both places. But can any ambi* 
guity arise from employing one word, with prepositions 
of opposite import, to denote opposite things ? Will not 
the things thus opposed rather illustrate each other ? 

EfTVYX/»f*ii> TllfiP, is to plead for, and Ertvyxi*^^ 
KATA, to plead against: the latter phrase is repeatedly 
used in the Maccabees, to express the act of complaining 
against, bringing an aeeusation against, making com* 
pUint against a person or persons. 1 Mac. yiii. 32, x. 
61, 63, xi. 35. And as this is the nart of a prosecutor or 
accuser, so the former is the part oran advocate, patron or 
intercessor. The Jews have adopted the two Greek terms 
IUi^«»Asr#(, an oi^voeiUe, used 1 John. il. and KtsrnyfH, 
an accuser, used Rsv. xii. 10. and employ both in tha 
Chaldee paraphrase of Job xxxiii. 23, ** an angel is pre* 
pared, one advocate (NB^Spna) among a thousand accu^ 
sers (MnSd^op.'*) See Outram de sacrificiis, Lib^ II* 
Chap. VII, 

to God by him.'- In ever^age Hath his chureli 
been the object «f his grftci<ms reprd : and h« 
bas fiilfined the promise which he made in the 
dajs of Zechariah, *^ Lo, I come^ and I will 
dwell in the midst of thee, saith Jehovah. And 
aiany nations s^all be joined uiiti^ Jehovah, in 
that day, and shall be my peopie $ a«d I will 
4wen in the midst of thee, anid thou shalt know^ 
that Jehovah Sod of Hosts h«ith sent me pnto 
|hee."«-^To the primitive charch under all ttie 
pagan persecations, was this pi^mise fulfilied | 
to the Waldenses and Albigenges in the darkest 
times of Popery ; to the first reformers frona 
Antichristian error, and to their faithfol suc- 
cessors ; whether conformists or non-conform- 
ists ; in this Island, on the continent of Eu- 
rope, or in the wilds of North- America. And 
M this day, wherever two or three assemble inr 
bis name, at Birmidsham of at Bristol, in Lon- 
don or at Edinburgh, in Old Holland or in 
New Holland, at Mudnabatty or at Otaheite^ 
at the Cape of Good Hope or in Kentucky, 
there may oar distant bretnren, as well as our- 
ielves, expect our glorious Lord to fulfil his 
word, I wUl come unto you. 

The express promises he has made, of which 
the text is one, and we have reeitcid several 
ethers, forbid us to doubt of the bestowment of 
this invaluable blessing. Jedus is the '^faithful 
ond true witness ; the same yesterday, to-day 
and foreven In him all the promises oi God are 
yeat and in him Amen, unto the glory [of God bj 
i*s.''<^He assured his servant Paul, in a season 
of peculiar difficulty, ** My grace is sufficient 
for thee ^^' and the grace which could suffice 
for him, who accounted himself the chief of 



sinnersy and less than the least of saints, is 
sufficient for us also. His strength is display- 
ed to the greatest advantage in our weakness* 
O remember how it was lately displayed in the 
weakness, the extreme weakness of your dear 
dying Pastor, on whom the power of Christ so 
▼isibTy rested. When his heart and flesh were 
failing, how did he rejoice in God his Saviour, as 
the strength of his heart, and his portion for 
ever! And is there a mourner present, so 
feeble, so disconsolate, so bereaved of everr 
created source of bliss, as that this grace will 
not suffice for her support 1 Or will he, who 
kept his word with such ^* punctilious veraci- 
ty" to her husband, forget his promise to the 
ividow and the fatherless 1 Assuredly he will 

Remember, my brethren, the readiness of the 
Bedeerner to hear and answer prayer.^-^Thon^ 
Paul besought him thrice upon one subject, be- 
fore he received an immediate reply, the prom- 
ise was fulfilled even before it was pronounced; 
he, like one who lived long before him, and 
like myriads who have since made trial of the 
same resource, was ^'^ strengthened with 
strength in his souU" before the Saviour ex- 
pressly declared, ^* My strength is made per- 
fect in weakness." Continue therefore instant 
in pn^yer. Remember the apparent rebuffs en- 
countered at first Inr the woman of Canaan, 
and how amply her ntith was answered at last. 
Did not Jesus inculcate this maxim, *^ that men 
ought always to pray, and not to faint ;" and 
spake a parable to illustrate and enforce that^ 
duty ? Rich blessings, I trust^^ are still in re-' 

$23 DR. htland's stnnopr. 

flienre for you in answer to the many fervent pe- 
titions which your late pastor offered up on 
your behalf, from the time of his first acquain- 
tance with this Church, and during better than 
«iiine years,* wherein he has more fully under- 
taken the oversight of you in the Lord. May 
you yourselves pray without ceasing, and plead 
with the Lord his own exceeding great and 
]M:ecious promises, which will be found to con- 
tain blessiings fully proportioned to all your 

It was doubtless in consequence of many 
comfortable evidences^ that God has a number 
of spiritual worshippers among you, that mr 
dear brother was encouraged to expect this 
declaration would be certainly fulfilled in yoar 
present circumstances. But though I sladlj 
indulge a similar confidence, yet, neither I, 
whose personal knowledge of you is very con* 
fined, nor he, whose acquaintance was much 
inore intimate and general, could answer for 
every professor among you. From what has 
taken place in all the large congregations I have 
known, i am afraid lest the hopes of your pas- 
tor may be disappointed as to some individuals 
whom ne never suspected, but whose future a- 
postasy will indicate the superficial nature of 
their present profession, and ensure them a fi- 
nal portioii with hypocrites and unbelievers. 
Greatly shall I rejoice, if not one such charac- 
ter should ever be found among you ; but tp 
render the consolation in the text more certain 
in its personal application, I must exhort you to 
eiamine and prove your ownselves, and to ^ye 
all diligence to make your calling and electioti 

* He waa ordained in Aogait, 1790. 

DR. rtland's sermon. S£3 

sure. Unless you are such of whom God dis- 
approves, Christ is in jou, the hope of glorj ; 
he dwells in your hearts by fatth, and you be- 
gin to be conformed to his lovely image. You 
account mental nearness to God the chief good. 
Ton value communion with him above all the 
world. Is not this the case, my brethren? I 
trust you can say with the Psalmist, Whom 
have [ in heaven but thee ? — and there is none 
upon earth that I desire besides thee. Fear 
not, that the Lord will frustrate the desires his 
own Spirit has excited, or abandon that soul, 
whose wishes centre wholly in himself^ 

In the meanwhile, to increase the intense- 
ness of your desires after the presence of 
Christ, let us proceed to consider, 

2. The magnitude of the promise. 

Has Christ said, **IwiU come unto you ?" 
and have you been told to-night that his pres- 
ence can make up every loss T Well may you 
credit the assertion, if you consider what is in- 
tended by the promise in the text. 

It imports tnat he will manifest to you his 
glory. And how delightful the sight! 
**Lord!" said Jude, **how is it that thou wilt 
manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the 
world?" This exclamation might denote par- 
tial ignorance, as well as grateful surprise : 
but t& secret was in a great measure explained, 
when the Spirit was poured out from on high. 
Then Paul observed, ^^ God, 'who commanded 
the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined 
into our hearts, to give the light of the knowl- 
edge of the glory of God, in the fece of Jesus 
Christ :" so that while others hate *' their un- 
derstandings darkened, being atienated from 



the life of God, through the ignonince which is 
in them, because of the bliodness (or rather 
the caUausnesa*) of their hearts } we all, with 
open face, beholding, as in a mirror, the glory 
of the Lord, are changed into the same image, 
from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the 

If the Lord srant you his special presence, 
you will not only realize his essential and me- 
diatorial glory, but be cheered also with a Uvdy 
sense of Tits love. And what consolation can 
equal that which must result from such a 
source ? " To know the love of Christ which 
passeth knowledge,'^ is a blessing which the 
Apostle considered as immediately connected ' 

with being ** filled with all the fulness of God ^^ 
and the bestowment ot which was a proof that 
he is *^ able to do exceeding abundantly above 
all that we ask or think/' Unless we could 
conceive the full extent of the happiness pro- ' 

duced by the redemption of Christ throughout 
the whole empire of God ; unless we could | 

comprehend the length of eternity, in which 
the felicity of the saved shall be for ever in- 
creasing, as fast as God shall increase their 
capacity of enjoyment ; unless we could meas- ^ 

ure the lowest depths of hell, from whence our 
Saviour has ransomed us, with the invaluable I 

price of his blood ; and the height ,of elory to 
which we shall be raised as the reward of Im- 
manuel's obedience ; it will be impossible fully j 

to conceive the greatness of his love. Uowev- 

* iw rnf vrtiftia'if 94$ x^fiiMs «t;r#f. Ephes. iv. 18. 

Tlnfrntf^ concretio quiB in callum fit. In sacria Uteris 

^^fmtf tutfimt quum cor occahut. Scapula. Rohtrtson. 


etn enough maj be known to cfrnTine^ ni that 
hb favour k netter than«Hfe, and to fill us, 
even in the present state, amidst all oor oat- 
^arrl trials, and even our inward tonflicts* with 
joj unspeakable and full mf glorj. 

Reflect, that if Christ should come unto jou^ 
according to this gracious promise, hewOieon^ 
mufiicate unto ypu^ more ktrgdu^ the 9uppiy rf 
his SpirU. And shall not this fit jou for everj 
dntjt support jon under every pressure, and 
ensure jou the victorj over tvtry spiritual cUt 
emj ? Yes, mj beloved, if you et^y much of 
the presence of Jesus, it will make you active 
for Ood, and excite you to every good work. 
You will not be slothful in business, but fervent 
in spirit, serving the Iiord. Yon will aim at 
the divine glory in every thing* even in all your 
civil employments. You willgladly consecrate 
the gain of your merchandise to the Lord, and 
honour him with your substance. It will re-* 
joice your soul to think that you are *< not your 
own," but ** bought with a price," and you will 
leel yourselves bound to ^'glorify God, with 
your bodies, and with your spirits, which sxt 
God's :" nor can you forbear to admit his claim 
to all which you possess ; for ** the silver is 
mine, and the gold is mine," saith the Lord of 
Hosts, and your thankful hearts must say, 
Amen You will wish to inscribe on all your 
property, and on all your utensils, that bles&ed 
motto. Holiness to the Lord* The presence of 
Christ will inspire you with ardour, resolution^ 
and zeal, to promote his kingdom among men. 
You will not let your LonPs-day iSchooh de* 
dine $ nor will your contribution to the mis- 
sioir, in which you stood foremost soearly^ 


226 ' DE. ETLANd's BERMOVr 

BOW be suffered to fall off, because that dear 
man is gone to glorj, who first excited year at- 
tention to these ^ood works ; but you will re* 
member that Chnst himself is with jou, who 
walks among his ^Iden candlesticks, to notice 
how their light shineth before men, to the hon- 
our of their heavenly Father. If you should 
meet with farther trials, the presence of Jesus 
will suffice to support you under the cross, as it 
did the Apostles, and primitive Christians. 
O brethren! I pray you may live as seeing him 
who is invisible. Remember that Christ, wheii 
upon earth, could not do more for his first dis- 
ciples, than he can now perform for you, by 
his divine presence. Ah I if he were here, \a 
his glorified body—K>r even in the lowly form 
in which he appeared in the days of his humili- 
ation— --if he often called upon you-Kir you 
could, at any time, resort to him— or if he 
lodged at your house—or came thither as often 
as he visited the house of Lazarus, at Bethany 
-—would you not then consult him in every 
thing, and always follow his good advice, and 
fear no consequences, when you complied with 
his directions r And do you believe the divin- 
ity of Christ, and act otherwise now ? O 
shameful inconsistency! Look unto Jesus: 
ZooA; off, my brethren, from all other objectSy 
from all false confidences, from all discoura^ 
ments, from all the foaming billows, which 
threaten to swallow you up, unto Juus. He 
is above, looking down upon you. He is at 
hand, ready to assist you. See, how he stretch- 
es forth his arm to support you, and keep you 
from sinking in the deep waters. Separate 
from him, you.can do nothing $ but the weakest 


can do all thinss, can bear all burdens, can 
conquer all the hosts of hell, through Christ's 
Btreogtheniog him. 

If you are thus authorized to expect the 
presence of Christ, will he not take you under 
the tare of his providence? How sweet is the 
idea, of an omnipresent God! Not a local 
deitj, as the gods of the heathen were suppos- 
ed to be, even bj their own worshippers ; but 
a God c^ar off, as well as at at hand: present 
with his cap^tive servants, to check the violence 
of the fire, and stop the mouths of lions, in fa- 
vour of his exiles m Babylon, as surely as ev- 
er be had been ready to hear prayer in his tem- 
ple at Jerusalem. A God in India as well as 
in England—who showed himself to be present 
with his servant Pearce in Birmingham, to make 
all his bed in his sickness ; and was at the 
same time present, though we know not where, 
with his servant Ward and his companions | 
whether they are still traversing the miehty 
ocean, or whether the Criterion has reached its 
desired haven. Perhaps they have already met 
with Carey, and Thomas, and Fountain, and 
Jesus is in the midst of them, whii« they are 
praying for us in Bengal. Yes, Asia was lone 
ago reminded, that ^^the eyes of JeHoVaH 
run to and fro throughout the whole earth, that 
he may show himself strong in behalf of them 
whose* hearts are perfect towards him." And 
how comfortable is it to reflect, that this attri- 
bute of Deity, and every other, belongs to God 
the Son, as well as to God the Father. The 
husband of the Church is the God of the whole 
earth. Jesus has all power on earth as well aa 
in heaven. They, thereforoi who ^^ seek fijrst. 

328 0S* atx.avd'8 scilmqk* 

tbe kingdom of God, and his ri^teouaoeasy" 
shall And «« all things added uoto t^eio " 
'<Mj God," (said Paul to the PhyippianB) 
<* shall supply all jour need, according to his' 
riches in giorj bj Christ Jesiis. " Cast on hiro, 
therefore, all your care : he careth for all his 
churclies ; and though jou know not which 
way to look, he can find another pastor fur this 
church, to repair the breach that death has 
made, fle can raise up friends for the widow 
and the children of his depailed servant ; yea, 
he himself will be their guardian and defence. 
A father to the fatherless, and the patron of 
the widow, is God in his holy habitation ; he 
will never fail them nor forsake them* 

Finally : The presence of Christ, with his 
people on earth, shall prepare them for tbe un- 
interrupted enjoyment rf his presence i$i the ce- 
lestial world. He himself will be with you 
walking in the way, and the foolish shall not 
err therein. He Will guide you by his counsel, 
and afterwards receive you into glory. One 
of you after another shall £bllow your dear 
Past(#r, perhaps before the end of this year, 
and four or five next year, and so on, till you 
all meet again in that heavenly city, where the 
Lord God Almighty and the Lmab^ are the 
temple of it $ the glory of (h)d doth enliffhtea 
it, and the Lamb is the light thereof; and the 
inhabitants drink of the pure river of the water 
of life, proceeding out of the throne of God and 
the Lan^ : and there shall be no more curse, 
but the- throne of God and of the Zom^ shall 
be in it : aad his servant shall serve him, and 
ik^y shall see his face, and his name shall be 
m their foreheads } for tb^ shall be completo: 

Stt. KTLiiirD's s^pvoir. it99 

Ij like him, when thej aibfill see him as he -is. 
But let me once more beseech yon to notice, 
3. The consequent obligations under which 

jou are laid. 

Your Lord has said, **I will come unto 

iou.^' Believe him. Take him at his word, 
lead it before his throne of grace. Prove 
that you value his presence above every thing. 
liive under an abiding conviction, that without 
it, you must be comfortless, notwithstanding 
the presence of every temporal enjoyment ; 
but with it, you must be happy, even under 
Ihe pressure of every earthly calamity. 

Let then the expectation that this promise 
vill be accomplished, moderate your sorrows^ 
4m the present occasion, and on all others, and 
direct them into a proper channel. It is the pres- 
ence of Christ which constitutes the perfected 
felicity of our dear departed friend: But Christ 
is realty present with his church upon earth also; 
pray for more faith to realize that truth, and 
your heaven shall be begun below. He has 
fitid, ** If any one love roe, he will keep my 
words : and my Father will love him, and we 
will come unto him, and make our abode with 
him." And what is the loss, which the enjoy- 
ment of the presence of Christ, and of his 
Fatiber, cannot compensate ? or, what is the 
affliction, under which fellowship with the 
Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ, will not 

console you? . , -, 

Let this promise enhance your gratitude for 
MuM; Hiercies, and your solicitude to improve 
#Mise which lemaio. It was from hin, who «•- 
cend«d on hig^» afttor deacttadiag uij» tiie low- 


030 jDIU RTLUrs'l StBXOK. 

est parts of the earth, and who received nfi» for 
men,* that oar dear brother received all his min- 
isterial qualifications, as well as every Chris- 
tian grace : and it was his blessing alone, which 
rendered him so successful, in winning souls 
to Christ With him is the residue of the 
Spirit He has jet blessings in store to com- 
municate. O live on his fulness! Thoueh 
your beloved Pastor is gone, I trust that mt 
benefit, Vhich many of you received from his 
ministry, will never be lost Ministera die, 
but Jesus lives $ and his word endureth for ev- 
er. You have also a prospect of still enjoying his 
ordinances. Look up for his eracious influ- 
ence to attend them, knowing mat neither Is 
he who planteth any thin^, nor he who water- 
eth ; but it is God who giveth the increase. 

May the promise of Christ's presence excite 
jrour concern to prepartfot his coming. Let 
it excite your watchfulness against every thing, 
which would be offensive to your blessed Lord. 
Christians, Is there any thin^ in the daily 
course of your behaviour, or in the manage- 
ment of your families, of which you would be 
ashamed, if Christ were now upon earth in hu- 
man nature, and took up hiff "abode with you T 
And can you truly believe his Divinity, and 
not be afraid that he, whose eyes are as a flame 
of fire, should see such transactions 1 Do you 
not believe that he even searches the reins and 
the hearts ? and has he not said, that all the 

churches shall know it ? Behold, he cometh i 


*8ee fta excellent Sennon of brother Pearce, on 
Ephes. iv. 11. On the duty of Churches to regard Mbt" 

UtersMtktg^of C^fMl, at MikBel«ber*fQrdliiwlios. 


Diu rtlahd's sermon. £31 

frequently, as unexpected as a thief. Blessed 
is he who watcheth, and keepeth his garments^ 
lest he walk naked, and thej see his shame. 

But now, without confining myself farther 
to the immediate language of the text, give me 
leave to address a tew words, by way of a 
more general improvement of the late afflictive 
providence, both to the members of the Church 
statedly assembliop; in this place of worship^ 
and the Congregation and Strangers present. 

I address myself first to the CHURCH. You, 
my brethren, have, within these ten days, sus- 
tained the loss of a very affectionate and faith- 
ful Pastor } a young and active, and at the 
same time an able and judicious minister, who 
had approved himself among you for nine or 
ten years, and whose labours you hoped to en- 
joy for many years to come^ But he is taken 
away in the midst of his usefulness, having but 
just completed the thirty-third year of his age. 
In such a trial you have room to mourn. Jesus 
wept. And devout men made great lamenta- 
tions at the death of Stephen. 

Yet forget not to be thankful, that ever the 
Lord raised up such a minister, and gave you 
the chief benefit of his labours. It was the 
kindness of Providence that fixed him in this 
place, and continued him with vou for several 
years. You have reason to bless God also, 
that he did not run in vain, nor labour in vain. 
Bless the Lord for giving so many seals to his 
' ministry, and for enabling him to live so honour- 
ably, and to die so triumphantlv. 

And now, let each Inciividaal examine him- 
self, how far he profited by tiie ministrations 

233 Jou rtlanb's sbrmon. 

of Oiis dear servant of Jesus Christ .If 5«H ^^ 
you put him out of his place, and idolized hiiD> 
let such learn wisdom in future, and so account 
of us, as only the stewards of the mysteries of 
God. If any undervalued binit let them «n-^ 
eerely repent of that evil. And let all be cm- 
eerned, tiiat the benefit of his ministry may 
not die with him. Remember the itttereatuig 
and important truths you professed to reeeiv^ 
from himv Remember* the aJbctionate and 
earnest eihortations, addressed to yout by him^ 
from this pulpit. Remember the coinwtent wd 
lovely example which he set before you ; an4 
the evidence of the truth of reliffion, and th^ 
diwlay of the faithfulness of God, which wa^ 
made by his supports, under his painful and 
protracted afliiction* 

Consider, beloved, your dtdy to hU Fofrnfyt 
Mid show the sincerity of your regard for your 
late dear Pastor, by your tender aympiith;jr wiib 
his distressed ^idow, and the substantial to- 
kens of your affeetion to his Jw$ fetherleas 
Children, whose tender years prevent them 
from forming any adequate con(^pti«ii of their 
nnspeakable loss. May all the triendft of the 
deeeaftsd, bear them and their afticted mother 
on their hearts before the Lord ; remembering 
how essential a part of pure and undefiled re- 
ligion it is, to pay kind attention to the orphan 
and the widow in their affliction $ and acconnt- 
ing it an honour to imitate and subnevve that 
gkrieus Beinff, in whom the fatherleaa findetk 
nerey, and who encourages the desolate wid^w 
to put her trust in him. 

My dear brethren, forget not your duht to 
on$ another also, in tiiis season ni trial. Wfaiie 

fbiit deprived of a pastor, to take the oversight 
of joo m the Lord, watch over each other the 
more carefullj in love. Forsake not the as- 
sembline of yourselves together, bat stand fast 
in the Lord.— -Strengthen the liands of your 
deacoM^ at a time when the concerns of the 
church lie the heavier upon them, instead of 
indulging, as sometimes the case has been in 
other churches, a spirit of groundless jealousy, 
respecting those whom vou yourselves have 
called to that ofllce, and who have shewn a 
conscientious and upright regard for your wei- 

In looking out for a minister, I trust, you 
urill be caritful to seek one of the same stamp 
with my late dear brother ; one, who will guide 
jou in the true, narrow way, and guard you 
from error on the right hand and on the left ; 
who will warn you against every sentiment 
which would dishonour Uod's moral government^ 
as well as faithfully oppose whatever notion 
would disparage the riches of his glorious grace* 
May JOU choose a man\ equally :^aloas against 
selNnghteousness, and a^inst self-indulgence ; 
who will preach salvation by Christ alone, and 
insist on deliverance from the power and love 
of sin, as a most essential part of that salvation. 
May God direct you to a minister, who shall 
answer to the description given by Paul of him- 
self and his fellow labourers, **We preach 
Christ in you the hope of glory, warning every 
man, and teaching every man in all wisdom^ ; 
that we may present every man perfect in 
Christ Jesus." May he be able to appeal to 
you, on his death bed, in the words of the same 

U 2 

$34 SS. TLYLkm^S SERMOir. 

Apostle, "As wc were aHowed of OodtolW 
put in trust with the gospel, w wo sfMiko, not 
as pleasing men, but €k)d, who trioth owr 
hearts : not using flattering word*, as fekmm, 
nor a ploak of covetousness, ^od: is witness ; 
nor seeking glory of men ; but we were geatfe 
among you, even as a nurse cherisheth Ker chB- 
dren $ so, being affectionately desirous et yod, 
wfi were willing to have imparted n«to you^ 
not the gospel oT God only, but also our own 
douls, because ye were dear wnto us, Te are 
witnesses, and GoA also, how hoHIy, and just- 
ly, and how unblameably we behaved ourselves 
among you who believe ; as ye know, how we 
exhorted, and comforted, and charged everT^ 
one of you, as a father his children, that ye^ 
should walk worthy of God, who hath caNeA 
you unto his kingdom and glory,"" Such m> 

K>te8tation, I am confident, your late beloved 
stor might have safely made, and I pray 
God, his successor may be assisted to imitata 
the same primitive example, and find a corres- 
ponding testimony in the conscience of every^ 
unprejudiced hearer. 

At the same time, let me exhort you, mr 
brethren, to manifest genuine chriatum cmdour 
in your choice of another minister, and in aH 
your subsequent conduct towards him. IF he 
should not equal his predecessor in the popit*^ 
larity of his talents, the readiness of his atter-^ 
ance, or ii^ every amiable qualification of still 
higher importance, yet if his heart be evidently 
devoted to God, do not despise him, nor under* 
value him i but pray for him, encourage fainii 
stren^en his hands in God. — ^Make him no4 
an offender for a word, nor for the want of ^ 

werd. And 60 not magnifj such infirmities m 
are common to the best of men in this state of 

indeaw>ur^ brethren^ to be unaninuma in 
jwkt choice. Let none oppose die general 
'Vote, merely to show their conseqaence, or 
assert their liberty. Nor let others resolve upon 
iiavin^ tlietr own waj, becanse they have a small 
iDa|onty of their mmd | bnt enoeavour to ac- 
commodate one another, as far as it is possible, 
without sacrificing truth or prudence. Only 
be sure that you seek a pastor that is a holy 
Bsan of God, a faithful servant of Jesus Christ, 
who will naturally care for your souls. 

Finally, beloved, let all be carefnl to walk 
worthy A die Lord, in the practice of all that 
is well-pleasing in bis sight And let it appear 
that Grod, by taking your late dear minister to 
lieaven, has drawn you nearer to heaven. Be- 
tnember that Christ is now in the midst of yov, 
and that you hope soon to be with him in his 
kingdom, and to live and reign with him for- 
ever. What manner of persons ought yon then 
to be, in all holy conversation and sodliness! 

What I have said to the memners of tiie 
church, will, for the most part, apply to such 
of the stated CONGRBOATION, as are par- 
takers of the grace of God. 

But there are some, who constantly attended 
my dear brother's ministry, who are left un- 
converted. what shall I Mjto them! I 
earnestly pray, that they who heard him in 
vain while alive, may hear him now he is dead, 
so as to be made alive themselves. For, being 
dead, hosyet speaketh. The history which aU 
his friends can give you, of his life^ and of bis 

296 ntu &TlAjr»'8 ssRicovr 

death, (his blessed death!) proclaioM to yoo,' 
the troth and excellence or the gospel. Do 
not jou also remember that short but most af- 
fecting address, wbich he made to you, the 
last time he ascended this pulpit, after brother 
Franklin of Coventry had been preaching ? 
Then he told some, that his highest comfort, 
amidst the symptoms of approaching dissolu- 
tion, which he then exhibited, was the expecta- 
tion of meeting them in heaven ; while he fore- 
warned others of you, that his greatest anxiety 
arose from his fear of -being obi^ed to witness 
against you, as despisers and rejecters of the 
glorious Redeemer. O that the recollection of 
that dying waminj;, enforced by all his own 
happy experience m succeeding months of sof- 
fenuf and superabounding consolation, mig^t 
convince you of the vast importance of true re- 
lu^ion, of the unspeakable worth of the gospel 
of Christ, and of the blessedness of bein^ in- 
terested in his great salvation, and obtaining 
an inheritance among them who are sanctified, 
through faith in him. 

Many may expect, especially those who are 
§tranger$f to hear a eharader of the deeea$ed$ 
but he chose this text to avoid much beine said 
of himself, and though I should not scruple in- 
troducing whatever might tend to honour di- 
vine grace, and to promote your edification, 
yet I am unable to enter into a particular bio- 
graphical detail at this time. And as to his 
character, tko$e^ who knew him well, need not 
my delineation of it, to make them remember 
it with higli esteem, to their dying daj $ whUe 
others mieht suspect me of flattery, if I said 
but the fadf of what I cordially believe. One 

)>]l. RTXAN%'s 8KBM0K. £57 

tiiiiig I will say, which I could saj of very few 
(rtherSf though I have known many of the ex« 
cellent of ^e earth, That 1 never saw, or 
heard of any thipg respecting him, which griev- 
ed me, onless it was his inattention to hit 
health, and that I believe was owing to a mis- 
taken idea of his constitution. If any of you 
know of other faults belonging to him, be care- 
ful to shun them rbut O be sure to follow himi 
wherein he was a follower of Christ 

While his outward conduct was remarkably 
blameless and exemplary, he evidently had a 
deep, abiding, humbling sense of the evil of 
sin, of his own native depravity, and remaining 
sinfulness ; of his absolute need of Christ as an 
atoning sacrifice, and the Lord his righteous- 
ness ; and of the love of the spirit, and the im- 
portance of his work as a sanctifier.*— He lived 
a life of faith on the incarnate Son of God, as 
the blessed Mediator, who had loved him and 
l^ven himself for him ; and as Christ was all in 
all to him, his joy and his gain, in life and in 
death, so he took great delight in preaching 
Christ to others, as the only and all-sufficient 
Saviour ; he earnestly longed, had it been per- 
mitted him by Providence, to have preacned 
Christ to the heathen, and would have been 

{lad to have carried the tidings of salvation by 
is blood, to the ends of the earth. 
But, instead of giving a fuller account in my 
own words, I will ^ive all strangers the means 
of forming a just idea of the man, and of the 
nature of his relidon, by reading some of his 
letters, written three of them to myself, and 
two to the officers of this church, at different 
periods of his long illness $ to which I shall add 

£38 Bft. rtland's sermon. 

a few detached sentences, uttered nearer tite 
close of his life, and taken down by his nearest 

These will tend more to jonr edification who 
know the Redeemer, and more to the convic- 
tion of those who know him not, tliah any stud- 
ied panegyrick. 

May they excite all present to pray from the 
heart, Let me live the Ijfe, as well as die the 
death of the righteous $ may the cammeneemmt 
•f my profession, and may my UUtet end be like 
his. Amen and Amen. 




Were read before tbe concloding paragraph of the 



Birmingham^ (Lord's^y evvning^) Dee. 9, 1798. 
My dear Brother, 

Aft£r a Sabbath (such an one I never knew 
before) spent in an entire seclusion from the 
house and ordinances of m j God, I seek chris- 
tian converse with jou, in a way in which I am 
jet permitted to have intercourse with mj breth- 
ren. The daj after I wrote to jou last, 
mj medical attendant laid me under the strict- 
est injunctions not to speak again in publick 
for one month at least He says that my stom- 
ach has become so irritable, through repeated 
inQammations, that conversation, unless 'man- 
aged with great caution, would be dangerous $ 
that he does not think my present condition 
alarming, provided 1 take rest— but without 
that, he intimated my life was in great danger. 
He forbids mj exposing myself to the evening 
air, on any account, and going out of doors, or 
to the door, unless when the air is dry and 
clear $ so that I am» during the weather we 
now have in Birmingham, (very foggy) a com- 
plete prisoner $ and the repeated cautions from 
my dear and aJTectiopate friends, whose solici- 
tude, I conceive, far exceeds the danger, com- 
pel me to a rigid observance of the Doctor's 


This mornine brother Pope took mj place | 
and ia the anemoon Mr. Brewer, who has 
discovered uncommon tenderness and respect 
for me and th« people, since he knew mjatatet 
preached a verj affectionate sermon from 1 Sam* 
lii. 18. **It is the Lord, let him do what 
seemeth him good." iTywhat I hear, his sjm* 
pathizing observations, in relation to the event 
which occasioned his being then in the pnipity 
drew more tears from the people's eyes, than m 
dozen such pcior creatures as their pastor could 
deserve. But I have, btessed be €rod! lonj^ 
had the satisfaction of finding myself embosom- 
ed in friendship— the friendship of the people 
of mj charge : though I lament that their love 
should occasion them a pans-— but thus it is— « 
our heavenly Father sees that, for our mixed 
characters* a mixed state is best. 

I anticipated a day of gloom, but I had an* 
expected reason to rejoice that the shadow of 
death was turned into the joy of the morning; 
and though I said, with perhaps before one* 
quailed feeling, ^* How amiable are thy taber* 
nacles!'' yet I found the God of Zion does not 
neglect the dwellings of Jacob. My poor wife 
was very much ai^ected at so novel a thing as 
leaving me behind her, and so it was a dewy 
morning ; but the Sun of Righteousness soon 
arose, and shed such ineffable delist through* 
out my soul, that I could isay, * It ts good to be 
A^re.' Motive to resi^ation and gratitude al^ 
so, crowded upon motive, till my judgment was 
convinced, that 1 ought to rejoice in the Lord 
exceediuglv, and so my whole soul took its fill 
of joy. May I, if it be my Saviour's will, feel 
as happy when I come to die ! When mj poor 


Sarah lay at the point of death, for some days 
after her first lying-in, toward the latter days, 
I enjoyed such support, and felt my will so en- 
tirely bowed down to that of God, that I said 
in my heart, *^ I shall never fear another trials- 
he that sustained me amidst this flame, will de* 
fend me from erery spark!" and this confi- 
dence I long enjoyed. But that was near six 
years 9go, and 1 nad almost forgotten the land 
of the Hermonites, and the hiH Mizar. But 
the Lord has prepared me to receive a fresh 
display of his fatherly care, and his (shall I 
call it ?) punctilious veracity. If I should be 
raised up again, I shall be able to preach on the 
fiiithfulness of God more experimentally than 
ever. Perhaps some trial is coming on, and I 
am to be instrumental in preparing mem for it: 
Or if not, if I am to depart hence to be no more 
seen^ I know the Lord can carry on his work 
as well without me as with me. He who re- 
deemed the sheep with his blood, will never 
suffer them to perish for want of shejpherding,' 
especially since he himself is the chief Shep- 
herd of souls. But my family! Ah, there I 
find my faith but still imperfect However, I 
do not think the Lord will ever take me away, 
till he helps me to leave my fatherless children 
in his hands, and trust my widow also with 
him. **His love in times past," 4nd I mar 
add in times present too, ^* forbids me to think 
he will leave me at het^ in trouble to sink." 

Whilst my weakness was gaining ground, I 
used to ask myself, how I could like to be laid 
by ? i have dreamed that this was the case^ 
and both awake and asleepi I felt as though it 




were an evil that could not be borne :— bat nowv 
I find the Lord can fit the back to the bardenv 
alnd though I think I love the thought of serv* 
ing Christ at this moment better than eTer^ jet 
he has made me willing to be • • • • nothing, if 
he please to have it so ; and now my happjr 
heart ** could sing itself a way to everlasting 

O what a mercj that I have not brought oa 
my aifiiction by serving the deviL What a 
nercv that I have so many dear sympathizing 
frienas! What a mercy that I have so much 
dear domestic comfort! What a mercy that I 
am in no violent bodily pain ! What a mercy 
that I can read and write, without doing my* 
self an injury! What a mercy that my animal 
spirits have all the time this has been coming 
on, (ever since the last Kettering meeting of 
ministers) been vigorous — free from dejection! 
And which I reckon among the greatest of this 
day^s privileges, what a mercy that I have beea 
able to employ myself for Christ and his dear 
cause to-day, as I have been almost wholly oc-» 
cupied in the concerns of the (I hope) reviving^ 
church at Bromsgrove ; and -the infant churca 
at Cradley! O my dear brother, it is all mer« 
cy, is it not r O help me then in his praise, 
for he is good, for his mercy endureth forever. 

Ought 1 to apologize for this experimental 
chat with you, who nave concerns to transact 
of so much more importance, than any that are 
confined to an individual ? Forgive me if I 
have intruded too much on your time — but do 
not forget to praise on my behalf a faithful God. 
I shall now leave room against I have some 
business to write about— tul then. *adieit— -but 


let US not forget* that this Oody u our Oodfor 
ever and ever^ and will be our guide even uDtil 
death. Amen. Amen. We shall soon meet 
in heayen. * S. P* 



Piymauik, JfprU 33, 1799. 
Mj Tery dear friend and brotheri 

. I have the satisfaction to inform you* that 
at length mj complaint appears to be remoyed* 
and that I am, b^ degrees, returainff to mj 
usual diet, by which, with the diyine blessing, 
I hope to be again strengthened for the discharge 
of the duties, and the enjoyment of the pleas- 
ures, which await me among the dear people of 
my charge.. 

I am indeed informed by my medical attend- 
ant here, that 1 shall never be equal to the la- 
bours of my past years, and lliat my return to 
moderate enorts must be made by slow degrees. 
As the path of duty, I desire to submit ; but 
after so lone a suspension from serving the Re- 
deemer in his church, my soul pants for use- 
fulness more extensive than ever, and I lon^ to 
become an apostle to the world. I do not think 
I ever prizea the ministerial work so much as 
I now do. Two questions have been long be- 
fore me. The first was, shall I live or die ? 
The second, if I live, how will my life be 
spent ? With regfird to the former, my heart 
answered, ^^It is no matter-— all is well— for 
my own sake, I need not be taught tha^ it is. 
best to be with Christ ^ but for the sake of 
others, it may be best to abide in the body-^ 
I am in the fiord's hands^ let him do by me sfc 

244 Lsmms Ain> KABRATnrik 

seemeth him best for me and mine, and finr Us 
canae and honour in the world. But as to the 
second question, I could hard! j reconcile my- 
self to the thou^ts of living, unless it were to 
promote the interest of my Lord ; and if my 
disorder should so far weaken me, as to render 
me incapable of die ministry, nothing then ap- 
p€«red before me bat gloom and darkness. 
However, I will hope in the Lord, that thou|^ 
he hath chastened me sorely, vet, since he hath 
net ffiven me over unto death, sparing morcy 
will be followed with strength, that I may show 
forth his praise in the land of the living. 

I am still exceedinrly weak $ more so than 
at any period before X left home, except the 
first week of my Ipns by | but I am ^tting 
strength, though slowly. It is impossible at 
present to fix any time for my return. It 
grieves me that the patience of the dear people 
should be so long tned, but the trial is as great 
on my part as it can be on theirs, and we must 
pity ana pray for one another. It is now a 
tasK for me to write at all, or this should have 
been longer. 9. P. 


Piym&uthf Mrnif 91, 1799. 

I cannot write much — this I believe b the 
only letter that I have written (except to my 
wiie^ siDce I wrote to you last My complaint 
had issued in a confirmed, slow, nervous fever, 
wMch has wasted my spirits and strength, and 
taken a great part of the little flesh I had when 
in health away from me. The symptoms have 
been very threatening, and I have tapeatedly 

Lcrms Aim vAsmATrrBT 245 

thottg^t that let the physician do what he will, 
he cannot keep me long from those heavenly 
joys, for which, blessed be God, I have lately 
been much longing $ and were it not for my 
dear people anafamUy, I should have earnestly 
prayed for leave to depart asd be with Christ, 
which is so much better than to abkle in this 
Tain, suffering, sinning world. 

The doctors, however, now pronoonce my 
case very hopeful—- say there is little or no dan- 
ger-— but that all these complaints require a 
great deal of time to get rid of. I still feel 
myself on precarious ground, but quite resigned 
to the will of iStm, who, unworthy as I am, 
continues daily to ** fill my soul with joy and 
peace in believing." Yes, my dear friend! 
natv my soul feels the value of a free, full, and 
everlasting salvation— «nd what is more, I do 
enjoy that salvation, while I rest all my hope 
on the Son of God in human nature, dyin^ on 
the ci^ss for me* To me now, health or sick- 
ness, pain or ease, life or death are things in- 
different. I feel so happy in being in the hands 
of Infinite Love, that when the severest strokes 
are laid upon me, I receive them with pleas- 
ure, because they come from my heavenly 
Father^s hands 1 <^0! to grace how great a 
debtor^" &c. 


Birmingham^ JtUy 20, 1799. 
My very dear Brother, 

Your friendly anxieties on my behalf demand 
the earliest satisfaction. We had a pleasant 
ride to Newport on the afternoon we left you, 

W 2 

i346 x.vrn»« av9 iruouTiTB. 

and the next day wiilMittt OHichfiLtigve reaebei 
Tewksburj ; but tbe road was so roai^h frott 
Tewkabury to Evetbam* that it Wftaried wd in- 
jored me more than all the jolting we had bad 
before put tc^ether. Howeyer, we reached Al- 
cester on M^nesday evening, stopped thers 
a day to rest, and last night (Friday) were 
broumt safely hither, blessed be God! 

I ind myself getting weal^er and weaker, 
and so my Lord instructs me in his pleasure 
to remove me soon. Yon say well, my dear 
brother* that at such a prospect, I ^* cannot 
eompMii." No* blessed be His dear name, 
wh(i shed his blood for me, he helps me to 
rcgoice* at times, with joy unspeakable, l^ow 
I see the value of tbe religion of tbe cross. It 
is a relis;ion for a dying sinner. It is all the 
most guiity, the most wretched can desire. 
Yes, I taste its sweetness* and enjoy its fol- 
ness, with all the gloom of a dying bed before 
me. And far rather would I be the poor ema* 
dated, and emaciating creature that lam, than 
be an Emperor, with every ^rthly good about 
\^m .... Imt without a (Sod 1 

I was del^hted the other day* in re-perusii^ 
the PilgrimJs Progress* to observe that when 
Christian came to the top of the hill Difficulty, 
he was put to sleep in a chamber called Peace. 
Why* how good is the Lord of the wa;^ to me! 
said I ; I have not reached the summit of the 
hill yet* but notwithstanding he puts me to sleep 
in the chamber of Peace evety mght. True, 
it is often a chamber of pain ; but let piun be 
as formidable as it may, it has never yet been 
able to expel that peace* which the great Guar- 
dian of Israel has appointed to keep my heart 
and mind through Christ Jesus. 


I have been labottring Utel j to exercise most 
Ivre to Gk>d whea I have bi^en suffering most 
aeverely : but, what shall I sajt Alasl too 
oiten tne sense of pain absorbs everj other 
thought Yet there have been seasons when I 
have been affected with such a delightful sense 
of the loveliness of Gfod as taravira mj souli 
and give predominance to the sacred passion* 
It was never till to-day that I got anj personal 
instruction from our Lord's telling Peter bj 
what death he should glorify God. what a 
satisfying thought is it, that God appoints those 
means ot dissolution whereby he gets most (^qp- 
Tj to himself. It was the very tnlng I need* 
ed ; for of all the ways of dying^, that which I 
most dreaded was by a consumption f (in which 
it is now highly iK-obable my disorder will issue.) 
Bat, my dear Lord* if by tkU death t can 
most glorify thee^ I prefer it to all others, and 
thank thee that by this mean thou art hastening 
my fuller enjoyment of thee in a purer world* 

"a sinless state! *^0 'tis a heaven worth dy- 
ing fori" I cannot realize any thins about 
heaven, but the presence of Christ and nis peo- 
ple, and a perfect deliverance from sin, and I 
want no more — I am sick, of sinning— soon I 
shall be beyond its power. **0 joyful hour! 
blest abode! I shall be near and like mj 
God!" I only thought of 0Uing one side-^ 
and now have not left room to thank you and 
dear Mrs. Ryland for the minute, affectionate, 
and constant attentions you paid us in Bristol. 
May the Lord reward you. Oar hearty love to 
all around, till we meet in heaven* 

Eternally yours in Christj S. P. 

948 UBTTIBS Aia> NAB&AlnYB. 


BitmiinglUkm, (Lord^w-dmy Evening ,) Jhig.4^ ITOt. 
Hy vMry dear Brother, 

Stiir, I trust, hastening to the land <* where 
there shall be no more carse," I take this 6p- 
portnnity of talking a little with joa on the 
roadf for we are feilow-traTellers, and a little 
conversation by the waj will not lose me the 
privilege of getting first to the end of my jour- 

It is seventeen years within about a week 
Bince I first actually set out on my pilgrima^ ; 
and when I review the many dangers to which, 
during that time, I have been exposed, I am 
filled with conviction that I have all along been 
the care of Omnipotent Love. Ah how many 
Pliables, and Timorouses, and Talkatites have 
I seen, while my quivering heart said, ^'Alas! 
I shall soon follow these sons of apostasy, prove 
a disgrace to religion, and have my portion with 
hypocrites at lasf 

These fears may have had their uses— maj 
have made me more cautious, more distrustful 
of myself, and kept me more dependent on the 
Lord. Thus 

"All that I've met has work'd for my good." 

With what intricacy, to our view, and yet 
with what actual skill and goodness, does the 
liord draw his plans, and mark out our path! 
Here we wonder and complain — Soon we shdl 
all agree that it was a right path to the city of 
habitation $ and what we now most deeply re- 
gret, shall become the subject of our warmest 

I am afraid to come back again to life. O 
how many dangers await me I Perhaps I maj 


be overcome of some fleshly lust— -perhaps I 
maj gpt proad and indolent, and be more of 
the priest than of the evangelist--surelj I re- 
joice in feeling my outward man decay, and 
naving the sentence of death in myself. O 
what prospects are before me in the blessed 
world whither I am going! To be holy at God 
is holy — to have nothing but holiness in my 
nature— to be assured, without a doubt, and 
eternally to carry about this assurance with 
ine, that the pore God looks on me with con- 
stant complacency, forever blesses me, and 
says, as at the first creation, <*It is very good.''^ 
I am happy now in hoping in the divine pur- 

gises towards me ; but I know, and the 
ought is my constant burden, tiiat the Being 
I love best, always sees something in me whicn 
he infinitely hates. «\0 wretched, wretched 
inan that I am!'' The thought even now makes 
me weep, and who can help it, that seriously 
veiects, he never comes to God to pray cfr 
praise, but he brings what his God detests 
Along with him — carries it with him wherever 
be ffoes, and can never get rid of it as long as 
he lives? Come, my dear brother! will you 
not share my joy, and help my praise, niat 
soon I shall leave this body of sin and death 
behind^ to enter on the perfection of my spirit- 
ual nature ; and patiently to wait till this nat* 
nral body shall become a spiritual body, and so 
be a lit vehicle for my immortal and happy spirit? 
But I must forbear — I have been verjr un» 
well all day ; but this evening God has kindly 
given me a respite — my fever is low and mv 
spirits are cheerful, so I have indulged myself 
in unbosoming my feelings to my dear friend. 



Taken down oecanonatty by Mrs. Pearce, wUh^ 
in four or five weeks of Mr. Pearce^s death. 

He once said, <* I have been in darkness two 
or three dajs^ cryine, O when wilt thoa con»- 
fort me! but last night the mist was taken fronk 
me, and the Lord shone in upon mj soul. O 
that I could but speak, I would tell a world to 
trust a faithful God. Sweet affliction, now it 
worketh glory ^ glory /" 

Mrs. P. having told him the various exercises 
of her mind, he replied, **0 trust the Lord— 4f 
he lifts up the lignt of his countenance upon 
you, as he has done upon me this day, all jour 
mountains will become mole-hills. 1 feel jour 
f ituation, I feel your sorrows ; but he who 
takes care of sparrows, will care for jbu and 
ai J dear children/' 

^hen scorching with burning; fever, he said* 
** Hot and happj.^' One Lora's-daj mornine 
lie said, *^ Cheer up, mj dear, think how much 
will be said to-dav of the faithfulness of God. 
Though we are called to separate, he will nev- 
er separate from jou. I wish I could tell the 
worm what a good and gracious God he is. 
Kever need thej, who trust in him, be afraid 
of trials. He has promised to give strength 
for the day ; that is his promise. O what « 
lovel J Godl and he is my Gt>d and yours. He 
will never leave us nor rorsake us — no, never! 
I have been thinking that this and that medi- 
cine will do me good—- but what have 1 to do 
with it ? It is in mj Jesus' hands $ he will do 
it all, and there I leave it. What a mercj is 

tBTTfifiS AND KARKATIYfi. 261 

it, I have a good bed to lie upon ; you, my dear 
Sarah, to wait upon me ; and friends to pray 
for roe! how thankful should I be for all my 
pains ! I want for nothins : all my wishes ara 
anticipated. O I have felt the force of those 
words of David, * Unless thy law, f my gracious 
God !) had been my delight, I should have per- 
ished in mine affliction.' Though I am too 
weak to read it, or hear it, I can think upon it, 
and O how good it is! 1 am in the best hands 
I could be in — ^in the hands of my dear Lord 
and Saviour, and he will do all things well. 
Yes, yes, he cannot do wrong.'' 

One morning Mrs. P. asked him how he felt? 
"Very ill, but unspeakably happy in the Lord 
and my dear Lord Jesua.^* Once beholding 
her grieving, he said, ** O my dear Sarah, do 
not be so anxious, but leave me entirely in thi^ 
hands of Jesus, and think, if you were as wise 
as he, you would do the same by me. If he 
takes me, I shall not be lost, I shall only go a 
little before ^ we shall meet again, never to 

After a violent fit of coughing he said, « It is 
all well ; what a good God is he! It is done 
by him, and it must b^ well— -If I ever recover, 
I shall pity the sick more than. ever, and if I 
do not, I shall go to sing delivering love ; so 
you see it will be all well.--^ for more pa- 
tience! Well, my God is the God of patience, 
and he will give me all I need. I rejoice it is, 
in my Jesus' hands to communicate, and it 
cannot be in better. It is my God who gives 
me patience to bear all his will." 

When af^er a restless night, Mrs. P. asked 
hiiD) what she should do for him ? ** You cai^ 


do nothing, but praj for me, that I may hliT« 
patience to bear all mj Lord's will."— After 
taking a medicine he said, ^* If it be the Lord's 
will to bless it, for your sake, and for the sake 
of the dear children— bat the Lord's will be 
done. O I fear I sin, I dishonour God bj im- 
patience ; but I would not for a thousand 
worlds sin in a thought if I could aroid it." 
Mrs. P. replied, she trusted the Lord would 
still keep him ; seeing he had brought him thus 
fitr, he would not desert him at last ** No, 
no," he said, ** I hope he will not. As a 
fiither pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth 
them tnat fear him. Whj do £ complain ? 
Mj dear Jesus' sufferings were much sorer and 
more bitter than mine : •Snd did he thus 
niffer^ and shall I repinel No, I- will cheerful- 
ly suffer my Father's will. 

One morning after being asked how he felt, 
he replied, *^ I have but one severe pain about 
me! What a mercv ! O how good a God to af- 
ford some intervals amidst so much pain! 
He is altogethei: good. Jesus lives, my dear, 
and that must be our consolation.'^ — After 
taking a medicine which operated very powers 
fully, he said, *^This will make me so much, 
lower ; well, let it be. Multiply^ my pains, 
thou good God, so thou art but glorified, I care 
not what I suffer ; all is right.'' 

Beinc asked how he felt after a restless 
nightf he renliedf '*I have so much weakness 
and pain, I have not bad much enjoyment ; 
but I have a full persua9ion that the Lord 
is doing all tiiese well. If it were not for 
strong confidence i^ a lovely God* I must 
sink i but all is well. blessed God| I would 


not love thee less $ O support a sinkiDe worm! 
O what a mercj to be assured that all things 
are working together for good." 

Mrs. P. spying, If we must part, I trust the 
separation wilt not be forever | **0 no," he re- 
plied, ^' we sorrow not as those who have no 
hope." She said. Then jou can leave me and 
your dear children with resignation, can jon t 
He answered, ^^My heart was pierced through 
with many sorrows, before I could give yoa 
and the dear children op; but the Lord has 
heard me say. Thy will be done ; and I now 
can say, blessed be his dear name, I have none 
of ray own." 

His last day, Oct 10, was very happy; MrsJ 
P. repeated tnls verse, 

Since all that I meet shall work for my good. 
The bitter is sweet, the med'cine is food, 

Thouffh painful at present, 'twill cease before long. 
And then, O how pleasant the conqueror's song. 

He repeated with an inexpressible smile, thtf 
last line " The conqueror* 8 sang.*^ 

He said once, ** O my dear! what shall I 
do ? But why do I complain ? He makes all 
my bed in my sickness." She then repeated 
those lines, 

hisan can make a cfyint bed 
Feel soft as downy piiifaws ar». 

<* Yes," he replied, ** he can ; he does ; I 
fe^l it." 



HAM, WHO DIED MAT 25, 1804. 

To which are added, 

Esitraott from a few of her Letters, written bibcb tb^ 

Death of her Hueband. 

A sEKSATioif 80 stroHg as that which wa» 
felt by the religious publick on the death of 
Hr. Pearce, must neeas be followed with a de- 
sire to know a few particulars of the partner 
of his cares. If the reader do^s not find that 
extraordinary devotedness to God, and entire 
iabmission to his will, which distinguished hiniy 
yet he will perceive in her a strain of genuine 
piety, and christian affection: and though when 
reading her lamentations he may think she dis- 
covered too much of an irreconcilable spirit, 
yet, considering the loss she had sustained, he 
will ratiier be cGsposed to pity, than severely to 
censure her, especially as they imply so just an 
appreciation of departed worth. 

Mrs. Pbaroe was the daughter of Mr. Josh- 
ua Hopkins, of Alcester. she was born the 
beginning of the year 1771, and married to 
Mr. Pearce in February, 1791. There is little 
Qr no account of her early years : but she is 

0^4 to have di|QQvered tokeni of religious com; 


ceroi about twelve months before her marriage. 
She was, however, jealous of herself, aod it be- 
came a considerable source of anxiety to her 
mind lest she should be unfit to be the wife of 
such a man as M r. Pearce. She was baptized by 
her husband on November 20, the same year in 
widch they were married. Her profession of 
faith before the church in Cannon-street is said 
to have been very satisfactory. 

It has been observed by mose who liyed in 
christian connection with her, that she has from 
first to last manifested a strong attachment to 
evangelical truth. That doctrine which main- 
tained the honour of the divine character, abas- 
ed and criminated the sinner, exalted the ricbei 
.of free and sovereign grace, and promoted holi- 
ness in heart and life, was her delight. This 
«he took pleasure in hearing, and on this would 
converse with interest and affection. She had 
also a longing desire for the universal spread of 
the gospel. The prosperity of the church of 
God lay near her heart, especially the success 
of missions among the heathen^ 

After the death of her husband, she constant- 
ly assembled her little family « morning and 
evening, to commit them to the care of Heaven, 
fervently praying for their conversion, and that 
they might walk in the steps of their honoured 

She would sometimes complain of darkness 
of mind, and the want of satisfactory evidence 
of the reality of her own religion ; but in gen* 
eral her hope was steady and lively. 

She was a pattern of early and regular attend^ 
ance at the houde of God at all seasons. Though 
ihe lived about a mile from it, yet no weather. 


1^6 MBMOIR OV MRS. rsARex. 

nor little indispositions of body, wonld prerent 
her attendance. She loTed the habitation of 
his hoase, and the place where his honour 
dwelt She esteemed those most who appear- 
ed to bear most of the image of Christ It was 
on this account, as well as from natural aflfec- 
tion, that she felt so severely the loss of her 
dear companion, who was to her not only a 
husband, out a friend, an instructer, and a 

As her last illness was of such a nature as to 
render her incapable of conversation, no par- 
ticular account can be si^en of the state of her 
mind at the close of \i&. The reader will ob- 
tain a taste of her spirit from a few extracts of 
letters furnished by the kindness of her corres- 
]K)ndents. We shall give them in the order of 
time in which they appear to have been writ- 
ten, which may serve in some measure to show 
the progress or her exercises under the severest 
of temporal bereavements.* 


Eleven weeks after Mr. Pearce's death. 

J)ee^mb§r 25, 1799. 

*^ In vain, alas^ in vain I ^eek him 
whose presence gave a zest to every cnjoy- 
mentl I wander about the house as one lucreft 
of her better half. I go into the study— •! sry 
to myself. There is the chair he OQCupiea, 
there are the books ke read; but where, oh 

* Her letters are confined to three corteapon^eata, viz. 
to Mrs; Harwood of Qristol, Mrs. Franklin of <!QveB^j> 
fuid Miss . Sprlgg of Binoinishatn. 


vhere is the owner? I come into tfie parlour 
'—there ray tenderest feelings arc awakened 
by four fatherless children.* The loss of him 
ivith whom I have been accustomed to go up to 
the house of God diminishes, ah, I may say too 
frequently deprives roc of my enjoyment while 
there. Ichabod* Ichabod, seems written upon 
all my former pleasures! But let me no long- 
er sadden you by dwelling upon a subject too 
interesting to my tenderest feelings ever to be 
forgotten by me. Nor would 1 arraign that- 
all-wise and benevolent Being, who has a right 
to do what he will. No, my dear friend, I 
wish to love, adore and ^praise, though I can- 
not discover his designs, or suppress painful 
feelings, at his dispensations towards me. Oh 
that I ipay indeed * know him' in all his ways, 
and fe^ my mind more immediately devoted 
to him, and resigned to his will! I desire to 
be thankful I have not been altogether with- 
out those consolations which true religion af- 


Ofi the death of her youngest child, Skimie!. 

My 11, 1800. 
•^— '^After an illness of a few days, it hath 

S leased the great Arbiter of life and death to 
ereave me of my dear little boy, . aged one 
year and six months $ and thus again to con- 

*Mrt. Pearce was left with/iw childfeo: but her 
eldest son, William, was at this time from home, being 
taken soon after his father's death, out of pure friendship, 
by Mr. William Nichols of Nottingham! with whom he 
long continued. 


258 MEMOlia Of MRS* FBAaOE« 

▼ince me of the uncertainty of all earthly jojs^ 
and bring to remembrance nw past sorrows* 
Be was in my fond eyes one of the fairest, flow- 
ers human nature ever exhibited ; but ah« he 
is dropt at an early period ! Yet the hope of 
his being transplanted into a more salutarjc 
climef there to re-bloom in everlasting vigour i 
and the reflection, that if he had lived, he had 
unavoidably been exposed to innumerable temp- 
tations, from which, if my life was spared, I 
should yet be unable to screen him, make me 
fitilL Though I feel as a parent, and I hope 
as a christian,, yet 1 can resi^ him. Oh, could 
I feel but half the resignation respecting the 
loss of my beloved t'earce! But I cannot. 
Still bleeds the deep, deep wound $ and a re* 
turn to Birroingliam^ is a return to the most 

Eoigna^t feelings I unnh however to resiga 
im to the hand that gave, and that had an un- 
questionable right to take away. Be still then 
every tumultuous passion, and know that he 
who hath inflictea these repeated strokes, is 
God : that God whom I desire to reverence 
under every painful dispensation, being per- 
suaded that what I know not now, I shall know 


' lHۤmher, 1800. 

*< My dear children gone to bed, a clean 
hearth, a cheerful £re, but a dejected min^— 
what will have a greater tendency to dissipate 
tiiat dejection than tp converse awhile with' my 

* This letter was written from Akester. 



de^fr friend Sfrs. F.? ¥et sfie must prepare 
ber^elf for Ezeki^l's foU. You will not wonder 
at this when I tell you, that within the last 
half hour I have been comparing my present 
evenings with those two years ago^ when my 
ibeloved Pearce and niyself were accustomed 
to sit together^ and talk over the events of the 
past day^ and look forward to the probable 
ones of the next $ and whea he would iglve the 
gentle caution where necessary, and direct me 
when in difficulty. But now^ alas, a sad re- 
verse succeeds! A solitary fire-place, a ne- 
cessity of acting alone $ and whatever dtfical- 
ties arise, there is no one to direct me. But 
God is just ; and let me not repine, though 1 
must needs /ee/ the change. 

<' Why sii^s my weak ^espondjing mind ? 
Why heaves my heart the anxious sigh ? 
Can sovereign goodness be unkind ? 
Am I not safe if God be nigh ?" 

<^ O yfs, if he be nigh, I wunt no more! This 
storm, though violent, will be but short : a few 
ipore blasts, a few more sighs^ and I trust to 
arrive where sighing, singing, and partina from 
thpse we love, shall be done away. Oh gUMrious 
anticipation ! 'Tis this, 'tis tms supports thy 
friend while steering the tempestuous ocean of 

*<I was glad to hear your dear babe was 
liearljr recovered. May yon long enjoy it, and 
may it be an increasing comfort to yon. But 
do not do as I did, love it too well to part with 
it with cheerfulness when GUmI calls. Oh, that 
dear loved name /Safimet— how many pangs has 
it since cost me! There is no Samvei. ]Pxar<'* 

260 HEMOIR or MRS.' PfiAROE* 

now! Bat wh^ do I thus complain ? Oh, mj 
rebellious passions! Often do I exclaimi 

** Ye that love the Lord indeed) 
Tell me, is it thus with yoa ? 

<< Since I saw you, mj heart has been rent 
with such passions as are indescribable, and 
which I shudder to reflect upon. But let me 
•peak it with unfeigned gratitude P I have felt 
for this last week, a degree of resignation, to 
which, eyer since I lost my beloved Pearce, I 
was a stranger. From comparing my own in- 
significance with the greatness of the band that 
has visited me, and who though he smote me 
(as I fear) in wrath, yet hath remembered mer- 
ejr, my spirit has bowed to his sovereign will. 
I have also felt that it is of the Lord's mercies, 
I am not consumed. I had said, by mj thoughts 
and actions, * Let all eo : there is nothing 
worth keeping!' Why wen was I not depriv- 
ed of everv comfort, seeing I made so lidit of 
what was left? To what a state shouA I have 
been reduced, had the Lord taken me at my 
word! But oh, cheermg thought! He is a 
God full of compassion, who does not afflict 
willinely ; and I believe I shall see in the end 
that aU that hath befallen me is for my profit'' 


March 17, 1801. 

— — **0h, my friend, my wayward heart 
still cleaves to earth ; and thou^ so often dis- 
appointed in looking for comfort m the creature, 
when my better reason tells me it can only be 
'found in the great Creator, yet still I must be 
jurying again* In the midst of my most sor- 


rowful reflectionci, I aoi aware that my mercies 
preponderate ; and claim not only resignation, 
but eratitode. I cannot be enough uiankfal 
for fne goodness which mixes vrilh judgment ; 
and at times the language 4if my heart is. Bless 
Ihe Lord, oh my soul, and forget not any of his 
benefits! Oh, could I leave my all with him» 
without an anxious care! How much more 
happy should I be.'' 


On the illness of her daughter, Louisa. 

J^ 38, ;1801. 

-— '^ My dear Louisa is so ill, that I have 
0iany fears on her account Oh, my dear 
friend, a prospect the most distant of anoi^r 
berea¥emei\t invoWes my mind in gloom* Pray 
for me that my heart biay be fortified for the 
voi»t She has been to me an interesting 
child ; and my fond heart has been pleasing 
itself that in a few years I should in her find a 
companion. Are you not astonished, that after 
so many disappointments, I should still be 
cleaving to the creature ? Yet so it is : no 
aooner am I djeprived of onis Comfort, but I 
grow insensibly to another, till dis^poiated 
9tain of this, I am compelled to feel the vanity 
of aU below* I want to have my will entirety 
absorbed in the will of my heavenly Fadier i 
and at times it is my most earnest pcayier, that 
he would not remove his chastising haiHi till 
the end is accomplished for which it is laid np? 
on me $ only that he would give me strongth 
to endure his will. But surely I must be an 
untoward child to need such repeated and se« 
vere discipline. Pray for me." 



Septemier 19, 1801* 

-— -<^ It is an unspeakable mercj that I ais ' 
in the hands of so kind and good a God, who 
knoweth our frame, ^nd remembereth that we 
are but dust ^ As a father pitieth his children, 
so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. How 
light and trining do all our trials appear whea 
compared with the important end they are de- 
signed to answer. What are the suflferings of 
the present time, compared with the glory that 
is to be revealed in us ? May we be made wil- 
ling to do and suffer the whole of God's will, 
in order to our meetness for the inheritance of 
the saints in light! O that mj heart were more 
in heaven, where I trust my treasure is! At 
times I can say. Do with me, Lord, as seemeth 
thee good $ only sanctify thy dealings with roe, 
and bring me fordi as gold refined from all re- 
maining dross.'' 


October 12, 1801. 

— *<* No doubt you hav^ joined the general 
joy occasioned by the sound of peace. Never 
did I experience such sensations as on last Sat- ' 
iirday, and Sabbath-day. You ma^r perhaps 
recollect that Saturday, October 10, is an ever 
memorable day to me I I do not know that 
ever I spent a day more devoted to sadoess. 
My situation is retired— no friend came near 
me— every painful feeling was again recalled-^ 
I indulged it $ my whole heart took its fill of 
grief! You may suppose I was ill prepared for 


attending the service of the sanctuary next day^ 
and for awhile I felt a desire of staying at 
home, but did not think it right to indulge it 
At length I summoned resolution, and went* 
While on the road, peaccy peace^ was sounded 
in my ears : every eye beamed gladness : but 
my poor harp was hung upon the willows. Oh 
how I wisheo to hide myself in a corner, where 
no eye could see me. 1 was, however, consid- 
erably relieved in the morning, from a sermon 
by Mr. Giles of Dartmouth, on, * Our li^ht af- 
mction, which is but for a moment, working for 
us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
glory.' My burden was in some measure re- 


October 18, 1801. 
——"I have been endeavouring to-day to 
ibrget what period of the year it is ; but alas, 
too faithful memory, ever ready to recal the 
hour which put an end to my earthly happiness, 
pursues me ! When shall I leel my will absorbed 
m the will of God, and have none but his ? I 
want to live above this fading, dying world, 
and wonder I should be so attachea to it when 
it has so frequently disappointed me. Oh how 
I envy those who have learnt that useful les- 
aon, deadness to the creature, and life in God.'^ 

TO MRS. F. (mthoui datei) 

— — ** A firm persuasion that God directs 
all our concerns, ought to silence every mur- 
mur, and check every degree of impatience ia 

-, — . 

S66 UfiMOIR OF fiiltS. PEARCB. 

ness. Never shall we form any adequate con^ 
ception of it till we know as we are known. 
Tu be near and like God, must surely be the 
summit of expected felicity. Oh delig;htful 
thought I It will never decay. May a lively 
and increasing hope in these exalted realities, 
enable us to bear every trial with patience and 
fortitude. He who is a rock, and whose work 
is perfect, will accomplish whatever concerns 
those who put their trust in him.— -I could not 
withhold news which has caused such a gleam of 
joy as 1 have not experienced for a long time, 
from my dear friend, who has taken so large a 
share of my gloom.*— Farewell.'' 


Written firom Nottingham, whither ihe went OD ac- 
count of the Ulneas vf her eldest son, William.* 

— — " My dear boy has a fever, the symp- 
toms of which are alarming. The phvsician 
assures me his lungs are not at present aflfected ; 
but I much fear it will so terminate. Mr. and 
Mrs. N* are unbounded in their tenderness and 
attention. I know not what is before me. 
God b a sovereign, and has n rieht to do with 
me and mine as seemeth good to nim» I have 
Ions; ago in words acknowledged his right ; nor 
will I now retract, should he remove the de- 
light of my eyes from me. No, though he slay 
me, yet will I trust in him. I feel an unbound* 
ed confidence in him. He will, I am persuad- 
ed, do all things well. He bas been very gra* 

*Mr. William Pearee was, in 1S!10, •ngag'sd as a |^iiat> 
«t in thA miaaioD at Seramporoi 


cious to me. Mj dear William is a very de- 
sirable child. I feel all the mother yearning 
oyer him : yet I have not had the least dispo- 
sition to think hard of God ; but have viewed 
it as the rod in the hand of a father, who 
knows the end from the beginning, and who 
doth not afflict willingly, nor- grieve the chil- 
dren of men. Pray Tor me, my dear friend, 
that it may be sanctified. Mj love to our 
friends. 1 hope they will not forget us when 
they bow before the great Physician : for as 
our dear boy says, * It is of no use to apply to 
earthly physicians without the help of the ffrtot 

Early in the month of May, 1804, Mrs. 
Pearce was considt^red by her friends as un- 
well % for eight or nine days, however, no ap- 
prehensions of danger seem to have been enter- 
tained either on their part or her own. But 
about the 20th, the fever increased to such a 
degree, as to bring on a delirium, which con- 
tinued till the £5th, when she breathed her 





Hu parentage, comrenion, call to the ministry, and 
settlement at Birmingham ... 5 


His laborious exertions in promoting missions to the 
heathen, and offering himself to become a mis- 
sionary 27 


His religious exercises and labours, from the time of 
his relinquishing the idea of going abroad, to the 
commencement of his last illness • • 63 


An account of his last affliction, and the holy and 
happy exercises of his mind under it - 107 


General outlines of his character, illustrated by ex- 
amples 145 

Letters to American correspondents - - 183 

Concluding Reflections 189 

Rev. Mr. Bre wet's Oration - - - - 197 

Dr. Ryland's Sermon 207 

Memoir of Mrs. Pearce ..... 254