the remains of their departed friends. Business having called me to this important town, during the present summer, the General Burial Ground was one of the objects of interest I resolved to visit, and I must say it afforded me melancholy satisfaction to behold this respectable and appropriate establishment, alike creditable to the public-spirited individuals who projected its plan, and consolatory to those who have there to seek a safe and agreeable burying place, where they may bury their dead out of their sight. I found it a commodious field of four acres, enclosed with a wall of sufficient height, and skirted on all sides by a luxuriant shrubbery; convenient gravel paths are laid for the visitors, and the green-sward is preserved with commendable neatness. The whole of the field is divided and numbered in a ground plan, prepared for that purpose, and the vaults and monumental stones are all of one size, pattern, and material; the stonemasonry being prepared on the premises. The entrance is from the Rusholme Road, by two lodges, a sketch of which I have already sent you. The right hand building is the residence of the Rev. W. M. Walker, the Registrar, and the left is neatly fitted up as a small chapel, where the varied religious services are performed. Besides the general superintendence of the respectable Registrar, the ground is guarded by watchmen and dogs, and additional security is afforded by the introduction of gas. I find that the purchase money was raised by 600 shares of £10. each, which were all bought in a fortnight! and that such success has attended the undertaking, that besides the accommodation which is secured, and which was the only object in the first instance contemplated-the shares have now more than doubled their original value; and I understood, on the last payment, that a dividend of 12 per cent. rewarded the public spirit of the proprietors. Long, very long, have I wished that the Dissenters of London would unite in such a scheme. I therefore addressed to you, in 1825, a paper, which you inserted in the June number, entitled "Remarks on the proposed Metropolitan Cemetery;" but which I regret excited no attention. A paper has appeared in the last number of the Evangeli. cal Magazine," on Dissenting Burial Grounds," which justly describes the gorged and disgusting state of Bunhill Fields. The writer of that article, though Dissentiens Senex, has not suggested, as I conceive, the wisest course to secure the opening of a general cemetery in the metropolis. The great body of Evangelical Dissenters know quite enough of Dr. Williams's Trustees, to dissent in toto from his remark, that "they would be as suitable and eligible a body as can be found amongst us, to have the establishment invested in their hands, and its management confided to their care." Nor can I think him more happy in naming the managers of Widows' Fund, or of the Funds for Poor Ministers. Το my mind, the duty of engaging in this attempt devolves with greater force on the Body of Dissenting Deputies than on any other already organized. That Association includes about 200 of the most respectable laymen of the Three Denominations, who could, without any difficulty, become subscribers in £20. shares to this much needed establishment, by which a sum would be raised that would go far to secure the adequate capital; and who can doubt that there are a great number of families amongst us, who would cheerfully subscribe at least for a share, seeing that the outlay would be considerably less than is required to secure a decent vault in the ancient cemetery to which I have alluded. Surely, Gentlemen, it is time that the Dissenting Body in the metropolis prove to their brethren throughout the kingdom, that they are alive to their own interests and duty, and though they can- XXXIX. ORIGINAL LETTERS. Dr. Isaac Watts to his your letter I am determined against it, Brother Mr. Enoch Watts.* though I hope to see the child myself to-morrow in London, at Mrs. Richier's, where my lady has a hired apartment for our house once a week. With regard to my father's will, I supposed that he might leave me 3 or £400, having never given me any thing but my education, and that (you know) was not very expensive to him, but only for books and clothes; and since I had never offended him, I imagined I might stand as much in his favour as Brother Tom, who I suppose had not much less than £400 from him, and I imagined brother R to have had near £300; but if I had wanted it, I verily think he would have left me more. As for yourself, I always thought he would leave you more, because you wanted it, and my sister, who personally well deserved it, as well as you, and her family would stand in need of it. I declare myself, therefore, well satisfied with my father's will. But I told you I feared brother R- would repent it (viz.) his not having so much as mourning: for however he had not carried it dutifully to my mother, yet I thought he had generally paid more respect to my father than your letter intimates. However, she not leaving him mourning, I feared would be so far resented as to prevent my scheme of reconciliation, and therefore I could not but advise it: and I cannot but think still it will look well in the eye of the world for the executors, even without any retrospect to the will, to send him £20 on that account, and as I told you I will readily give half of it myself, without his knowledge of it, whether he accepts it or no, 'twill always have a good aspect on your side, But after all, I cannot say I desire you to do it, unless you and my sister are Monday Evening, Feb. 28, 1736-7. DEAR BROTHER,-I thank you for your kind regards to me, which run through your whole letter; and though you despair of any hearty reconciliation between sister B- and brother R-, yet I find neither she nor you are averse to such a conduct as may bear the appearance of mutual civility. But I wonder why you should enter so largely on repeating her sorrow and repentance, when I am persuaded there is not a sentence in my letter that intimates or supposes it. I had no thought of any submissions, but a perfect oblivion of every thing on both sides, without which I know any sort of reconciliation is impossible. But I was desirous to know from my sister and you, whether on this foot it was desired, that I might make use of the death of a father as a medium, or rather an occasion, to attempt the re-union of his family. I had this project also in hand, (viz.) having heard at No. 2, Pancras Lane, that my niece Sally is in or near town, (which they always learn by some means or other,) I thought of appointing one of her brothers to bring her to me, for I should be glad to see the child; and then I would have carried her to see her uncle, and not left her alone there a moment, but have made use of it to soften their hearts. I confess my nephew Joseph did not encourage me in it, but by There is so much in this letter illustrative of the Doctor's Christian temper and private history, that our readers, we presume, will readily bear with the rather lengthened reference he makes to family disputes.-Ed. convinced in your own judgment 'tis proper to be done. I would by no means have you do it merely upon my advice, though I have been concerned in families wherein these very things have been matters of resentment, and much wiser persons than I have thought the executors giving mourning would have been a proper mollification thereof. I only mention this matter again, but will by no means insist upon it. But why should you imagine, dear brother, that I should stand in awe of Pancras Lane? I believe with you he cannot hurt me; and I know that while he lives and practises physic in London, his interest depends much more on my good opinion and good word than 'tis possible mine can upon him. No, brother, but I can do almost any thing to procure peace and amity. Perhaps 'tis my cowardice, and weakness of spirit. Be it so; but 'tis such a weakness that bears so much resemblance to the glorious self-denials of Christianity, that I am content to be weak. I had rather bear (and I have borne in the world) more indignities and reproaches than most ministers in London, for my moderation and reconciling doctrines, opinions, and conduct. And yet, at the long run, there are few who have been favoured with a more universal esteem of the Christians of all parties than myself: and my ability to bear reproaches without replies, hath had no small share in procuring me this esteem. Yet not I, but the grace of God, which is with me: and I want still to be more mortified to reproaches, to have more patience, submission, and self-denial. Forgive me in all this talk of myself, and, as St. Paul expresses it, bear with me in this foolish confidence and boasting. God has humbled me by long illness, and I would live yet more humble, and become all to all, that I might, by any means, gain some souls to piety and goodness. I am glad you design to send me a copy of my father's will, which I think cannot be withheld from brother R. Salute my sister Brackstone again from me with great tenderness and affection. Jemmy went from me on Friday, Jo. on Saturday. I hope they will both answer my sister's good desires for them, in things of this life and a better. As for my father's Poems, I desire your advice about them. I question whether any of them will be fit to appear in the world in this age, but as I expect more urgencies from Southampton to print them, so I would be pre pared with proper answers. But some I am, Your's, affectionately, ter, which, upon a review, I must not P. S.-There is one line in your letleave unanswered. Let my sister Bbe assured, that how much soever I plead for, and practise forbearance and self-denial, for the sake of peace, yet, if any occasions offer in the face of the world, I have always represented my sense of the conduct of my brother Rand his wife, in this affair, in that light in which I have received it, and I am sure that is so favourable on her side as leaves little excuse for their violent resentments. When I told him yesterday morning of your kind acceptance of it exceeding well, and burst out into his letter on our father's death, he took tears; and I wish he had humility enough to ask pardon of sister B-for his hard usage of her. This day, being in London as usual, I met my brother R- accidentally, and talked a little with him about other that I shall be able, I hope, to satisfy affairs, but not about Southampton, so him, as well as possible, about the affair of the will, next time I see him. Tuesday, March 1, 1736-7. XL.—Rev. John Berridge to Mr. Everton, 3d Oct. 1783. DEAR SIR,-Your kind letter is received with an inclosed note for the poor sufferers at Potton; an haystack which had been long smoaking, and neglected, at length threw up large flakes of fire into the air, and these being drove, and scattered by the wind, set half the town on fire in 20 minutes. Whatever the fire reached it consumed, and the mischief was done in four hours. If, during that time, the wind had shifted from north to south-east, the whole town had been fired. The best part of the town, I mean the best houses, are burnt; and the poor have suffered, but not in such numbers as the rich, Professors have fared the best, but not wholly escaped. Much of the marketplace is burnt, with the two great inns, and the large street leading from the Thornton, Esq. London. church into the market. Mr. John XLII.—Rev. John Newton to John Ragmond's great house, with his woolhouse, barns, stables, and grain, and 2000 pounds worth of wool, just laid in, are all consumed; he computes his loss at 5000 pounds, and says he is still worth £20,000; but is so dejected, and his health so impaired by this loss, that his life seems in great danger. L-g's house, wool-house, and buildings are consumed. He is reckoned one of the most infamous in Potton, and was thought in very declining circumstances, but people say the fire will set him up -he is insured so deep. Butler's house, wool-house, and buildings, are also consumed, but part of his stock is insured. John Keeling has escaped. John M-'s house and workshop are consumed; he has suffered more than any of the Professors, but is not offensive now to the carnal world, and will be well considered in the general contribution: however, at your desire, I shall send him two guineas. He names himself Elijah, and calls all other ministers Baal's prophets; yet, since the fire, has had the vanity to beg of me to recommend him as a preacher to the Tabernacle. He now openly declares, that Jesus Christ is no more God than Paul was, which has this good effect, that it keeps the people at Potton from hearing him altogether. Indeed, he is grown very lofty and censorious, and I wish his late calamity may be sanctified... The furniture of my curate's house had cost his wife's mother £300, which was all consumed, and no linen saved, but what was on their backs, so rapid was the fire; I was forced to take them in, and a mournful sight it was to see them come in the evening, the husband with a cradle, the wife with a young child, and the maid with an infant in her arms. Thro' mercy a house was provided for them at Gamgay in a fortnight's time... My feverish complaint is much removed, but my head and breast are but indifferent; however, I have been just enabled to preach once on a Sunday thro' the summer. My kind Christian love to your partner. Peace and protection be with you both, and grace with your children. I remain your much indebted and To Mr. Benj". Mills. JOHN BERRIDGE. P. S. Why did you put A. M. on the back of your letter? It makes me seem a coxcomb got into my dotage. Southampton, ye 4th Sept. 86. MY DEAREST SIR,-Since my return from Lymington, I received, together with a letter from Mr. Bull, a copy of yours to Mr. B- I have long loved him, and considered him as a zealous and faithful minister, and therefore cannot but be grieved that his conduct should prove contrary to my wishes and expectations. I judge from an expression, in his to you, that he was displeased with what I wrote to him, which you saw. Indeed I could not well expect that it would be otherwise; but, I hope, I meant simply and honestly. I am sure my heart has been much pained for him; and it would have rejoiced me greatly, if, upon the enquiries you have had opportunity of making, you had found that every report rais'd to his disadvantage was either fri volous or false. How many proofs have I had, that abilities and zeal, and even usefulness, are no security to a minister from dangerous miscarriages. Yea, these things expose him to the greater danger, unless he is preserved by the grace of God from a high spirit, unless he continues to feel himself a poor, weak, sinful, dependant creature. Many have been warnings to me; may I consider myself, lest I also be tempted; and may the Lord preserve me from becoming a warning to others. How much more desirable is it to be suddenly called away, like Dr. Conyers, than to outlive the honour of our profession; and after shining awhile, to set at least in a cloud. They are well kept whom the Lord vouchsafes to keep. I am providentially led by a way that I thought not of. My friend Mr. Taylor proposed to conduct us to Bristol, where he has some business that requires his immediate attendance. So we set out with Mr. and Mrs. Taylor to-morrow, and they will accompany us a part of the way homeward, perhaps to the Devizes. Mr. Heathcote, who is nephew to the late dear Mrs. Talbot, lives there. When she died, he sent a ring to as many as he knew or heard were favoured with her friendship; among others he thought of me. My letter of thanks for the ring produced an answer from him, written in a very humble spiritual strain, and in it he gave me a warm invitation to visit him. If he be at home, I shall, perhaps, have the pleasure of calling on him now, though mine must be a short visit. For if I go to Bath, Bristol, and the Devizes also, I must be at home in the course of next week. It is probable I shall preach at Bristol next Sunday. Many occasions I have of making an acknowledgment like Jacob's, with my staff I came over this Jordan, and now In ye year 36, I was at Southampton, and in the year 38, at Bristol, from whence (my father selling his ship) I travelled thro' Bath to London I was then a little sailor boy, and for a long time after, had no thought of being more than a sailor thro' life. I find a pleasure, and I hope some profit, in reviewing places which recal men strongly to my mind, incidents which I pass'd thro' in early giddy youth. I can recollect with some distinction, what I was, and what I thought when at Southampton fifty years ago. Surely I may say of my own case, He led me, when blind, by a way that I knew not. How little could I then, and long afterwards, think of visiting these parts in my present capacity. The profession of the gospel has cost some people much; but I was a poor creature, and should have been so still, had I lived till now, if the Lord had not mercifully found me in the waste howling wilderness, found me where I sought him not But his favour has given me friends, a post of honour, and many comforts: It was he who gave me the honour and comfort of your friendship and patronage, upon which my service and usefulness have so greatly depended; and it is owing to his goodness, and not my own, that I continue happy in your friendship to this day; for had I been left to myself, you might have long ago had reason to repent of your great kindness to me. Thro' mercy we still enjoy health. I have had pulpits every Sunday since I have been here, and have been as happy as situation could make us. Mr. Kingsbury, the Dissenting minister here, is a valuable man, candid and warm-hearted, and a very good preacher. His congregation seem to walk in peace, and to be in a thriving state. But I must close, requesting you to accept mine and Mrs. Newton's cordial acknowledgments and respects. I hope to be at home ye 13, which, perhaps, will not be very long before your return. I long to see you, and pray the Lord to bless and comfort you every day, and that you may come home in health, and the peace which passeth all understanding. I am, my dear Sir, Your most affectionate and obliged Servant, JOHN NEWTON. POETRY. ROMANS i. 20. For the invisible things of him from the creutim of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse. THOUGH men, the creatures of a day, All nature His eternal might, And every varying forin unite, Stupendous rocks; the mountains vast, And atoms on the balance cast, The world of vegetation see, The infant rills, from rocky cells, Their latent courses bend; Till from the root-entangled dells, The rivulets descend. Emerging from the valley's side, The little bills are seen; And lucid streams meandering glide Through meadows clothed with green. The fleecy clouds resplendent rise, And bear their treasure high; While showers descending from the skies Provide a rich supply. All these, and works which these excel, He governs with a nod; Now unbelief, stand forth and tell, What is too hard for God. |