As the early diaries are written in Latin, we must gather the story of
these first months from the later diaries. This is a disadvantage; because
the same things appear in different aspects to Harris in various periods
of his life. He does not relate the story of an incident in his inner life
in the same form in 1736 as he does in 1738 or 1740. At the beginning he
was in a sense somewhat ignorant. He went through the great changes noted
in the last chapter in almost complete ignorance of the terms that would
commonly be used to describe them. Although he had experience of these things,
he could not always relate them in an orderly and consistent manner to others.
When he began to think of matters theologically, he was a rank Arminian.
But about 1737 he embraced Calvinism--and henceforward all accounts of his
early history are coloured by that system. Whenever he received a fuller
revelation of some truth, that would fill his mind for a season, and he
would view everything in the light of it. The first heaven and the first
earth would not be remembered, and no thought would be given to them. After
some years he saw in a new light the work of the Second Person of the Trinity
in his salvation, and after that there are many statements in the diary
to the effect that he knew nothing of Christ until 1738. Similarly he says
that he knew nothing of faith, nor of the work of the Holy Spirit, until
he met George Whitefield in 1739. But in calmer moments these wild words
are withdrawn, and he thanks God for the old mercies of Talgarth and Llangasty.
The reader will perceive that it is no easy task to weave one consistent
story from these seeming inconsistencies.
These months again were spent in Llangasty, and he greatly loved the loneliness
and the seclusion he found there. He read, prayed and fasted again, as before,
denying himself all things in order to mortify the flesh, until the state
of his health was impaired. He knew of no other way of pleasing God whom
he loved so much. Every book he read, every sermon he heard, tended to engage
him more and more with duty, keeping him away from Christ. He complains
bitterly that he never heard the Gospel being preached during this
period of his life. Serious defects must be admitted in him, too, such as
his insufficient knowledge of the Word of God, and his unfaithfulness to
the revelation he had received directly in his own heart during the various
stages of his conversion. His faith was strengthened somewhat by reading
the first part of Hand's Practical Catechism. Often after this he
would compare his faith with Abraham's, wondering whether he could have
left his country and all else, and whether he could believe that which was
seemingly impossible at the command of his Lord. He greatly revered his
unevangelical teachers, although his soul would have starved if he had depended
upon them. In some measure he saw his danger, and in August we find him
entreating his vicar for a monthly administration of the Sacrament, so that
the heavenly spark might not be quenched.
But in spite of the low Arminianism which was thrust into his head, his
heart was at the same time filled with the love of God. There was a great
difference between his theology and his faith. "He filled me with His
love years before He taught me how He redeemed and saved me." Oftentimes
he doubted his faith, and he denied it completely many times, but he never
doubted his love. He walked in full assurance of this. He states that he
lived on love like a child eating fruit, without knowing anything of the
tree on which it grew. A constantly repeated expression in moments of exaltation
in later years is, "I have not found myself so full of God since the
first year." Sin fled when he looked upwards. Whenever unbelief suggested
that he was unfit to be with Christ, his heart would answer at once that
Christ could make him fit in a moment. "Though I knew not the meaning
of grace, I knew that God loved me. The question 'who maketh thee to differ
from another?' filled my mind constantly, and the realisation that He loved
me above all others, in turn made me love Him too with all my heart. Were
it not for the love I had tasted, I should have given up; I never could
have gone against the current. Love fell in showers on my soul, so that
I could scarcely contain myself. I had no fear, or any doubt of my salvation;
but yet," he says, mixing his experience with his theology, "I
must then have been under the law."
This love kept away from his heart every particle of love for the world.
He lost every care with regard to his circumstances, and for the future.
He cast himself on the bare promise of the "God that cannot lie,"
and he was cared for; although he was often penniless and sometimes in debt,
he never lacked anything. "I received the Spirit of Christ seven years
ago," he wrote in the summer of 1742, "and I never after that
knew anything of the love of money, or the love of the world, although I
was plagued by every other corruption. If I had ten thousand pounds a year,
I would freely share all between the lambs. Oh, that I had been born in
the days of the Apostles, when everything was so simple, with zeal burning
and flaming."
Another effect of this love was to fill him with courage to counsel every
one he met concerning their souls. Some say that his portrait shows a man
courageous by nature, ''made without fear.'' But he himself always held
that he was by nature as timid as a hare, and that what courage he possessed
was a gift from above, given to him directly from heaven for the sake of
his work. "I felt I was all love--so full of it that I could not ask
for more. I walked in the light of God's countenance, I met Him in all things;
and the strength of the love I experienced enabled me to go through all
oppositions that came up against me. All fears vanished, and I was as one
established upon a rock, living in faith and power, having renounced all
worldly things. I was supported by an unseen power, and I was comfortably
and powerfully led by perpetual outpourings of love into my soul almost
every time I prayed. Such a coward was I by nature, and such power the Lord
gave unto me!"
It was gradually that this courage began to show itself. "In June,
I began to read to some of my neighbours in my mother's house concerning
the Sacrament and church attendance. Then I read in a book that it was my
duty to visit the sick, and to read to them. This led me to the village
of Tredwstan to see an old man, a hundred years of age, named Jenkin Laurence;
and there, while I was reading to him, the neighbours gathered to listen.
This made me feel much ashamed, lest I should be called a preacher, a name
I hated. Afterwards I thought I ought to go and exhort all those with whom
I had formerly sinned; and so I went to three villages--one on each side
of our village. In this way I spent my Sunday afternoons, and would also
come home during the week, travelling by foot four miles from the place
where I kept school. I could not rest without seeing them, and although
I did not have much authority (in exhorting them), I felt that I had to
go. I shared a little money between them until I had given all away. Oh!
the beginning was small indeed. Behold what a great bonfire came from a
little spark! How can I show it honestly to the coming ages, to the praise
of God's glory? It was He who began it, wholly of Himself, and from Himself
He continues to carry it on."
This small company formed a kind of "society," many months before
such a thing was heard of. In a letter which Harris sent to Vicar Davies,
requesting that they might receive the Sacrament more frequently, he mentions
that many had joined him in strict observance of their duties, and that
they had for some time sincerely endeavoured to practice the excellent doctrines
they had received from his pulpit. And that they had vowed and resolved,
by God's help, to direct their course towards heaven, in spite of all obstacles.
This simple movement can be looked upon as the seed of Welsh (Calvinistic)
Methodism. But the people of Trevecka and the surrounding district proved
to be unresponsive soil, and much of the seed became unfruitful.
"Thank God for Joseph Saunders," said Harris more than once. He
greatly enjoyed his fellowship with the warm-hearted blacksmith. But in
spite of all his excellent qualities, it is to be feared that the other
Joseph--his brother--was a man of the world, one whose portion was in this
life only. He sometimes spoke disrespectfully of the Bible, and abused religious
people. He had no sympathy with the new line his brother had taken. In consequence
Howell could hardly feel free to open his heart in his letters to London
as he does in the diary. In the latter he writes as if on wings in the spacious
heavens; but in the former his feet are generally firmly on earth. Yet,
in spite of his respect for his brother, his greatest benefactor, he would
not be unfaithful to his convictions in order to win anybody's approbation.
He wrote to his brother early in June, and, among other things, he said:
"I am very much oblig'd to you for your sudden answer,
but your not hearing from Mr. Harte since does not give me so much uneasiness
as formerly less matters did.... I don't in ye least fear or Doubt of
a Livelyhood and such a one as a better Judge than Man will see best,...
I hope I am design'd for some publick good, nor shall I think any labour
or Pain too much for my qualifying me for such a Work, but if I find no
other approbation than Human I shall hardly think all Qualifications sufficient.
I pity poor Mankind and wish I could do good to all, but now my wish is
all and I hope my own Heart is at last made Steady and Unshaken by ye
frowns or Smiles of Fortune. I hope ye applause or Censure of ye world
shall never touch me so near as it has....
Don't think me to be so Melancholy as you Imagine; I enjoy a Treasure
of Joy which Indeed I can't know how to communicate, (Grief is allmost
a stranger). I would not exchange Conditions with a great many that seem
to be happier than I am.... It is not lowness of Spirit but an Alteration
in Notions and Principles and Resolutions that makes me so applaud solitude
and Despise Riches to Excess. No, I have got a great Degree of what I
would wish all had--Content, inward undisturbed Happiness grounded, I
hope, on true Humility....
Allow me so much seriousness as sincerely to deal honestly and justly
with my soul, and make my eternal Happiness sure; and then I'll with as
much cheerfullness as you please be your Companion, and am happy of Course
here. But 'tis to be lamented that this Happiness pure and Conscious is
grown such an absolete talk, that he is a Subject of Ridicule that offers
to start it in Discourse or Letter; speak no where of it but in the Pulpit.
But where there are those of my way of thinking, I long to be acquainted
with them. If I found such a Person I'd sooner part with Life than such
a Precious gem.
You see I am unshaken in my Resolutions and therefore don't dissuade me,
but direct me in this road,..."
Joseph visited Wales in the autumn, and before he came down Howell wrote
to him as follows:
"When you come here you shall hear various opinions of
me; some call me melancholy, some mad, and some are so favourable to me
as to give me ye greatest Title, of being religious, but (Thank God) they
are all alike to me. Applause is not my study. Nothing affects me more
that ye Precious Time I abus'd, which I am endeavouring to redeem as fast
as I can."
"At present, I am where I was the first year," said Harris once,
"without any creature between me and God." It cost him dearly
to reach this height inasmuch as "one creature" had already won
a special place in his heart. The most prominent and the most important
person, perhaps, in the parish of Llangasty at that time was Mrs. Parry,
of Tal-y-llyn Mansion. She was the lady of the manor, and the patroness
of the ecclesiastical living. She was a young widow, of good character,
and in very comfortable circumstances. But the poor schoolmaster's heart
ventured to cross the social gulf, and there commenced a repetition of the
story of Syfaddan of old, in exactly the same place. We cannot say when
Mrs. Parry came to know of the affectionate homage paid to her. I believe
that she is darkly referred to in the desire for a "friend" in
some of Harris's letters in the beginning of summer, 1735. He writes:
"I Think a Friend is, if such a thing to be found, ye
greatest Happiness we can enjoy here.... I am in Raptures when I read
in Milton ye Friendship between our first Parents before self Designs
came to ye World. I almost utterly Despair of having this gem in this
World.... But there is an unsurmountable obstacle in my Way, viz. Meaness
of estate.... But, I think that Happiness is come so far to my sight that
I can say I am in hopes of attaining it,... and perhaps when I am just
entering to my Happiness I am knock'd off so that Perhaps I am to be allways
swimming but never reaching ye shore.... I have done all I can to find
such a Thing, but never could amongst my equals. If by favour and admittance
I thought I saw those Qualities of such a Friend I long'd for in superiors,
there Fortune would stare me in ye Face, and when I had a mind to utter
something ye fear of being term'd a fool designing or an Impudent made
me stifle my notions for fear of Disobliging."
He gave up Mrs. Parry, as he did everything else; but he once confesses
that his affection for her mingled in his thoughts, at times, with more
spiritual matters. When his brother came home, he and Howell, I believe,
visited Tal-y-llyn, and in future "--'' is often mentioned in his papers.
She had considerable influence on Harris, for the most part wholesome, until
her death in 1738; and he grieved bitterly after her. It is strange that
not one of his biographers refers to the first patroness-- if not, indeed,
the fiancée--of their hero--The Lady of the Lake. |