Lady Huntingdon and Her Friends

Mrs Helen C. Knight

“I search the crowded court, the busy street,
Run through the villages, trace every road.
In vain I search; for every heart I meet
Is laden with the world, and empty of its God.

How shall I bear with men to spend my days?
Dear feathered innocents, you please me best;
My God has formed your voices for his praise,
His high designs are answered by your tuneful breast.”

Wherever he goes, he is regarded with veneration and love, for his mind is stored with knowledge and his heart is alive with tender sympathies. He is the author of many a learned treatise, a father in the ranks of non-conformity, and has a fame both in the old world and the new; yet we know and love him best author of the sweet cradle-song, “Hush, my dear, he still and slumber,” which lulled us to sleep in the nursery, and of those psalms and hymns which are destined to shape the experience and lead the worship of millions, when the fame of his learning shall no more be remembered.

This is Dr. Watts, the venerable pastor at Stoke Newington. He was born in the stormiest days of non-conformity, and we find him nursed in the arms of his sorrowing mother on a stone by the prison walls which confine his father, a “godly man and a deacon,” willing to suffer constraint and persecution for conscience’ sake. He is without the endearing treasures of wife and children, for he was never married; “yet his lines have fallen to him in pleasant places and he has a goodly heritage,” for he is the beloved and honored member of a family “which, for piety, harmony, order, and every virtue, was a house of God;” here were “the retired grace, the fragrant bower, the spreading lawn, the flowery garden,” with comfort, elegance, friendship, and books.

“I came to the house of this my good friend Sir Thomas Abney, intending to spend a single week beneath his roof,” said Dr. Watts one day, “and I have extended my visit to thirty years.”

“I consider your visit, my dear sir,” responded Lady Abney, “as the shortest my family ever received.”

Sir Thomas, Alderman of London, a pious and exemplary man, whose dignities did not seduce his heart from his God, died in 1722, eight years after Watts had come under his hospitable roof. The mournful occasion was commemorated by an elegiac from the poet-pastor; closing with a note of praise, always so congenial to his spirit:

“Great God, to thee we raise our song —
Thine were graces that enriched his mind;
We bless thee that he shone so long,
And left so fair a track of pious life behind.”

After Sir Thomas’ death, he still remained in the family an honored and cherished member of the fireside circle.

Dr. Watts was settled at Stoke Newington in 1702: the extreme delicacy of his health prompted his people the next year to associate with him Rev. Samuel Price. The love he bore to his charge, and the high estimate he entertained of the relation which bound him to it, is thus touchingly expressed: “I pronounce it with the greatest sincerity,”, said he, “that there is no place or company or employment this side of heaven, which can give me such a relish of delight as when I stand ministering holy things in the midst of you.” Nor was it from the pulpit that his influence was chiefly exercised: whenever his health permitted, his pastoral visits from house to house were kind, instructive, and edifying; while a fifth, or as some say, a third part of his income was spent in charities.

There were then no associations, as now, to circulate the word of life at home and abroad. Bible, Missionary, and Tract societies were the growth of a later day, nay, the product of that very renovation of English Christianity which was then in progress. “I sometimes regret foolishly enough,” said Hannah More, “while assisting in the formation and watching the growth of the religious institutions which have so distinctly marked the present century, that some of my earliest and dearest friends did not live to promote and rejoice in them.” Nor can we help thinking how both Watts and Doddridge would have rejoiced in those things which we now see and hear, when the knowledge of the Lord is so fast filling the earth.

“I have long been in pain,” wrote Colonel Gardiner to Doddridge, “lest that excellent person, Dr. Watts, should be called to heaven before I had an opportunity of letting him know how much his works have been blest to me, and of course of returning to him my hearty thanks I must beg the favor of you to let him know that I intended to have waited on him in the beginning of last May, when I was in London; but was informed, and that to my great sorrow, that he was extremely ill, and therefore that I did not think a visit would be seasonable I am well acquainted with his works, especially with his psalms, hymns, and lyrics. How often, by singing some of these to myself on horseback and elsewhere, has the evil spirit been made to flee away:

“Where o’er my heart in tune was found,
Like David’s harp or solemn sound.

“I desire to bless God for the good news of his recovery; and entreat you to tell him, that although I cannot keep pace with him here in celebrating the high praises of our glorious Redeemer, which is the great grief of my heart, yet I am persuaded, when I join the glorious company above, where there will be no drawbacks, that none will out-sing me there, because I shall not find any that has been more indebted to the wonderful riches of divine grace than I.

Give me a place at thy saints’ feet,
On some fallen angel’s vacant seat,
I’ll strive to sing as loud as they
Who sit above in brighter day.’”

Lady Huntington had the pleasure of introducing these two men to each other; and we can almost see the tall and stately figure of the colonel, dressed in his regimentals, bending with love and veneration before the feeble and palsied poet, seemingly more attenuated by his closely fitting breeches and skull cap. What a whole-souled heartiness in the soldier’s grasp! How affectionate and sympathizing is the answering pressure of the old man’s hand!

Colonel and Lady Frances Gardiner were frequent guests of Lord Huntington, during their visits in London.

“And I cannot express,” exclaimed Lady Huntington, “how much I esteem that most excellent man Colonel Gardiner. What love and mercy has God shown in snatching him as a brand from the burning! He is truly alive to God, and pleads nothing but the pled of the publican, ‘God be merciful to me a sinner.’ What a monument of his mercy, grace, and love! To glorify God and serve him with all his ransomed powers is now his only aim.”

Behold another one whom Dr. Watts tenderly loves: he is a young man of tall and slender make, whose sincerity and sweetness of manner win our confidence and bespeak affection. You hear him talk, and every thing he says bears the aroma of deep and genuine piety; nothing dogmatic or uncharitable or censorious falls from his lips; his spirit is not fettered by denominational barriers, but he recognizes his Master’s image and embraces his Master’s followers, as well within the pale of the stately English church, and among the rude tenants of Moorfields, as among the stern believers belonging to his own household of faith He is the popular preacher, and successful teacher, Philip Doddridge of Northampton.

When it was proposed to establish a college among the dissenters, Doddridge, then quite young, was requested to express his views upon the best method of preparing young men for the ministry. He drew up a paper, which was sent to Dr. Watts for his opinion. Much pleased with the breadth and soundness of the article, the doctor immediately opened a correspondence with the young author, expressing a hope that he might one day be able to carry his admirable plan into execution.

He was already a favourite and rising preacher: soon after completing his studies, he received an urgent call to settle over a large dissenting congregation in London; this, with other flattering invitations, he refused, preferring the humble parish of Kibworth, with less hurry and more leisure for study and self-improvement To some of his friends, who seemed to pity his obscure fortunes, he thus beautifully replies:

“Here I stick close to those delightful studies which a favourable Providence has made the business of my life. One day passeth away after another, and I only know it passes pleasantly with me. I live like a tortoise shut up in its shell, almost always in the same town, the same house, and the same chamber, yet I live like a prince — not indeed in the pomp of greatness, but the pride of liberty — master of my books, master of my time, and I hope I may add, master of myself I can willingly give up the charms of London, the luxury, the company, and the popularity of it, for the secret pleasures of rational employment and sell-approbation, retired from applause or reproach, from envy and contempt, and the destructive baits of avarice and ambition; so that instead of lamenting it as my misfortune, you should congratulate me upon it as my happiness, that I am confined to an obscure village, seeing it gives me so many valuable advantages to the most important purposes of devotion and philosophy, and I hope I may add, usefulness too.”

Behold the sweet contentment of the village pastor, at rest with himself and happy in his God: no ambitious cravings, no secret repinings, no envious comparisons, no feverish excitements, disturb the peaceful flow of his devout and useful life. But at Kibworth, Doddridge was not destined to remain; the Lord had other work for his servant. Unknown to himself, he was preparing a fame wide as the Christian world.

In 1729, he received a pressing call to an important dissenting congregation at Castle Hill, Northampton. Various circumstances conspired, which caused his best friends to urge his accepting it. He did so; and in addition to his pastoral and pulpit duties, he established an academy for young men upon the plan already mapped out which had received the universal approbation of his ministerial brethren. Doddridge is now twenty-eight years old.

A life-work was before him, and he entered upon it with an elastic and bounding spirit — more than that, with systematic and steady diligence at the beginning of every year he laid out an exact plan of business, as also for every month, week, and day, so that the work of to-day should not clash with that of tomorrow; and he continued to have a few hours every week, to which no particular business was allotted. These he set apart as a sort of surplus capital, out of which he might repair his accidental, losses, or be enabled to meet, now and then, some unexpected call.

“It seems to me,” he says, “that activity and cheerfulness are so nearly allied, that we can hardly take a more effectual method to secure the latter, than to cultivate the former, especially where it is employed to sow the seed of an immortal harvest.”

Yet with all his weightier cares, the humblest of his flock found access to him, and he could turn away pleasantly from his most favorite studies to hear their sorrows, to comfort, and to counsel them in short, his life abounded with those “sweet courtesies” which his kindly nature no doubt rendered easy to him, but which he never ceased to cultivate in himself or commend in others. “I know that these things are mere trifles in themselves,” saith he, “but they are the out-guards of humanity and friendship, and effectually prevent many a rude attack, which, though small, might end in fatal consequences.”

“And as a husband,” he says, “may I particularly avoid every thing which has the appearance of pettishness, to which, amidst my various cares and labors, I may in some unguarded moment be liable. May it be my daily care to keep up the spirit of religion in conversation with my wife, to recommend her to the divine blessing, and to manifest an obliging and tender disposition towards her; and as a father, may it be my care to intercede for my children daily, to endeavor to bring them early to communion with the church, and to study to oblige them and secure their affections.”

But busy as the preacher, the pastor, and the father must now be, Dr. Watts singled him out to do a work which it had long been one of his own chief desires to execute, but which his increasing infirmities now warned him to relinquish it was to prepare a small volume upon practical and experimental religion for popular use.

“In the doctrines of divinity and the gospel of Christ, I know not any man of greater skill than himself” says the doctor of his friend and favorite, “or hardly sufficient to be his second, as he hath a most exact acquaintance with the things of God and our holy religion, and he hath a most happy manner of teaching those who are younger. He is a most affectionate preacher and pathetic writer; and in a word, since I am now advanced in age, beyond my seventieth year, if there were any person to whom Providence would suffer me to commit a second part of my life and usefulness, Doddridge would be the man; besides all this, he possesseth a spirit of so much charity, love, and goodness towards his fellow-Christians who may fall into some lesser differences of opinion, as becometh a follower of the blessed Jesus.”

Doddridge declined the work on account of his manifold duties, until he dared no longer to resist the urgency of his venerable friend. He consented to undertake it, and in 1745 the book was issued, dedicated to Dr. Watts, and called, “The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul.” the gratified doctor pronounced it a most excellent performance, “its dedication being the only thing he felt disposed to find fault with,” the little book has preached all over Christendom to-day: it is telling the story of the cross in ten thousand homes, and multitudes, we may well suppose, like Wilberforce and Stonehouse, have reason to bless God for its searching appeals.

At the advent of Wesley and Whitefield, the interests of genuine piety seem to have been at as few an ebb among the dissenting churches as among the Episcopal, though in each there were beacon-lights on the black shores of indifference and scepticism if Burnet could grievously exclaim, “When I see the gross ignorance of those who apply for ordination, and the want of piety and scriptural knowledge in those already in the sacred office, these things pierce my soul and make me cry out, ‘Oh, that I had wings like a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest.’ What are we like to grow to? How are we to deal with adversaries, or in any way promote the honor of God and carry on the great concerns of the gospel, when, in the fundamentals of religion, those who ought to teach others need to be themselves taught the first principles of the oracles of God.” No less mournful utterances come up from the bosom of dissent. Hear its voice of lament. “The dissenting interest is not like itself I hardly know it it used to be famous for faith, holiness, and love I knew the time when I had no doubt, into whatever place of worship I went among dissenters, but that my heart would be warmed and edified, and my edification promoted. Now I hear prayers and sermons which I neither relish nor understand. Evangelical truth and duty are quite old-fashioned things; many pulpits are not so much as chaste; one’s ears are so dinned with ‘reason,’ ‘the great law of reason,’ and ‘the eternal law of reason,’ that it is enough to put one out of conceit with the chief excellency of our nature, because it is idolized, and even deified. How prone are men to extremes. O for the purity of our fountains, the wisdom and diligence of our tutors, the humility, piety, and teachableness of our youth.”

Such were the voices of those crying like Ishmael in the wilderness, because the fountains were dried up. The causes which had produced so general a decay in vital piety, it hardly falls within our province to describe. We regard it as one of the signs of the times, and descry in it the Lord near at hand, mighty to save. How did the true Israel of God sit solitary, weeping sore in the night. How did the ways of Zion mourn, because none came to her solemn feasts.

Hark! in the distance the heralds cry, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord,” and the voice of promise comes richly laden: “Thy light shall break forth as the morning, and thy health shall spring forth speedily. The glory of God shall be thy reward. Then shalt thou call, and the Lord shall answer; thou shalt cry, and he shall say, Here am I and if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul, then shall thy light arise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noonday; and the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters fail not and they that shall be of thee shall build the old waste places: thou shalt raise up the foundations of many generations; and thou shalt be called, “The repairer of the breach, the restorer of paths to dwell in.”
Thus do the glorious fore-shadowings of holy writ adapt themselves to every period of Zion’s enlargement: they come forth now to meet and make strong the chosen instruments of this great awakening.

How did the dissenting churches of England receive the new preachers? Did they rejoice and say, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth salvation?” Some stood aloof, caring for none of these things; others spoke bitterly. Others asked, “Whereunto will this grow?” Others laid all to the charge of enthusiasm, and thought themselves doing God service. “I cannot but think,” saith Doddridge, “that by the success of some of these despised men, God is rebuking the madness of those who think themselves the only wise men, and in a remarkable manner laying bare his mighty arm.” “There may indeed be, and often is, a tincture of enthusiasm in some extraordinary conversions; but having weighed the matter diligently, I think a man had better be a sober, honest, chaste, industrious enthusiast, than live without any regard to God and religion at all I think it infinitely better for a man to be a religious Methodist, than an adulterer, a thief, a swearer, a drunkard, or a rebel to his parents, as I knew, some actually were who have been wrought upon and reformed by these preachers.”

Doddridge was severely censured by his brethren for his ready recognition of Whitefield and Wesley, as true reapers in the Lord’s harvest angry and threatening letters were sent to him from various quarters, and fears were entertained lest his catholicity might prove ruinous to the institution under his charge; for he not only grasped them by the hand and bade them God speed on their glorious mission, but on coming to London he appeared in their pulpits.

“I am sorry to have had many questions asked me about your preaching in the Tabernacle,” wrote Dr. Watts anxiously, yet tenderly, “and sinking the character of a clergyman, and especially a tutor among the dissenters, so few thereby I find, many of our friends entertain this idea; but I give no answer, not knowing how much you may have been engaged there I pray God to guard us from every temptation.”

Not long afterwards, ‘Lady Huntington, Lady Frances Gardiner, Doddridge, and Mr. Price were dining with Lady Abney. The conversation naturally turned upon the remarkable religious movements of the day, when they were candidly discussed, and all, from their separate points of observation, related what their eyes had seen and their ears had heard.

“Such are the fruits,” exclaimed the doctor, his small grey eyes brightening with the intensity of his interest, “that will ever follow the faithful proclamation of divine mercy. The Lord our God will crown his message with success, and give it an abundant entrance into the hearts of men it is a blessing such men have been raised up.” Doddridge probably did not receive another reproof. Dr. Watts afterwards became acquainted with Whitefield, who received his almost dying benediction, having paid him a visit a few hours before his death in 1749.

“The nation hath been much alarmed of late with reports concerning the growth and increase of Methodism,” said one of the church of England. “Would we put a stop to the further progress of it? There is one way by which it may be done, and let us of the established church join heart and hand in the work, namely, to live more holily, pray more fervently, preach more heavenly, and labor more diligently than the Methodist ministers appear to do. Then shall we soon hear that field-preaching is at an end, and people will flock to the churches to hear us, as they now flock to the fields to hear them.”

To this Doddridge heartily responded, “And let us of the dissenting churches go and do likewise.” His earnest prayer was for greater union and harmony among Protestant Christians. “O for that happy time,” sighed this healer of breaches, “when the question shall be, not how much we may lawfully dispute, but on the one side, what may we waive, and on the other, what may we acquiesce in, from a principle of mutual tenderness and respect, without displeasing our common Lord, and injuring that great cause of original Christianity which he hath appointed us to guard. But,” he adds, “the darkness of our minds, the narrowness of our hearts, and our attachment to private interest, will put the day, I fear, afar off.”

A hundred years later, and we descry not yet its dawn.