year, he did not succeed, and relinquished it in April, 1780. Discouraged by these things, though a man of a disinterested mind and frugal habits; but far more discouraged by the dissatisfaction which some expressed with his change of views, by the lukewarmness of many, and the little appearance of edification—and it is said, by unkindness on the part of a few-he was greatly depressed, and nearly brought down by sorrow and sickness to the grave.

He had preached occasionally at Kettering, where the church had been destitute of a pastor for a considerable time, and was heard by them with great profit and acceptance. It was soon discovered that they were desirous of his removal, and suggestions to that effect were conveyed to him through Mr. Wallis, their excellent deacon, of whom some further notice will be taken in a succeeding chapter.

In fact, though his connections at Soham were endeared to him by first impressions, and early attachments, it was not to be expected that a situation so unsuitable to his talents should eventually be preferred. The exalted Head of the church intended and prepared him for more extensive usefulness; and by a series of disappointments and discouragements was gradually paving the way for his removal to a wider sphere of action, where his great and varied talents might be exerted with more effect, in promoting the interests of religion, both at home and

abroad.

Mr. Fuller had indeed the opportunity of leaving his situation much sooner than he did; but his attachment to the place where he had spent his early days, to the people with whom he was first united in Christian love, his disinterested regard for their welfare, the deep sense he entertained of his obligations, and of his own unfitness for a more important station, prevented his listening to the invitations of other churches, till he was in a measure compelled, by accumulated difficulties, to think of tendering his resignation.

The first intimation of this was given to the church at Soham, in July, 1781, which occasioned great sorrow of heart, and various consultations with ministers and others; till at length, being overcome by the prayers, the tears, and entreaties of the people, Mr. Fuller consented to stay with them another year.

When the period of his departure was drawing nigh, the scene became still more painful, and his courage fail

ed him. The most unfeigned sorrow prevailed in almost every heart. "For my own part," said Mr. Fuller, "I found it exceeding difficult to go on in preaching, and to keep from weeping quite out. 1 hastened, as soon as worship was over, to get alone, and there to give full vent to all my sorrows. We had a private evening meeting, August 11th, 1782, which was more trying to me than the public services of the day. I saw a spirit in the church in general, which, had I seen a half a year ago, I could never have left them, come what would, whatever I do now. I went home to my house, with a heart full of distress, and my strength nearly exhausted with the work and weeping of the day.

"The next day, August 12, I devoted to fasting and prayer; and I scarcely remember such a day in my life, for tenderness and importunity in prayer. Two days after, I felt my spirits all the morning exceedingly depressed; but I got alone, and found a heart to pray with greater fervency than I had done before. It seemed as if I must have my petition granted, or I could not live. Nothing but the thoughts of an open door for greater usefulness in Christ's cause, and my having been so much engaged to pray for the coming of Christ's kingdom, could have kept me from dropping all opposition, and yielding to the desire of the church." He afterwards added, "I do hope the hand of God is in all this. I feel a secret longing to have my time, my soul, my all, devoted to Christ's interest, in some respects different from what I can here."

Mr. Fuller's delicate, prudent, Christian conduct, on this occasion, was very conspicuous. It is evident that his mind was greatly distracted with suspense and uncertainty; the apprehension of erring on the one hand, and of neglecting a call to greater usefulness on the other, threw him into perplexity and agitation. Unexpected considerations started suddenly upon him; he found he had been an instrument of doing more good, and that there was more attachment towards him among the people, than had hitherto been discovered. About thirty persons had joined the church, nearly as many were awakened under his ministry, and the last year was still more promising of usefulness and comfort. A conflict of contending passions raised as great a tumult within him, as perhaps the revolutions of empires ever wrought in an ambitious breast. In this dilemma he had recourse to counsel from friends, and

from meetings of ministers; the question whether he should leave the first scene of his usefulness, or occupy a larger, and in some respects, a more comfortable sphere, was referred by the church and by him, to arbitration. He corresponded with those whom he thought likely to give him good advice; but above all, he resorted on this occasion, to fasting, and prayer to the Father of lights. He did not, however, ascertain the path of duty so clearly as could be wished, and therefore concluded on staying a year longer at Soham. At the end of this period he made up his mind to remove, and all parties agreed that he should accept the invitation of the church at Kettering. On this decision, the church at Soham wept much, but said, "The will of the Lord be done."

CHAPTER II.

His Removal to Kettering-Domestic Afflictions-Ministerial Labours-Efforts in the Cause of Religious Liberty-Personal and Relative Afflictions-Counsel and Correspondence-Labours continued.

AMONG dissenting churches, where the right of choosing and retaining their own ministers is tenaciously regarded, there is always some danger of sacrificing the general good to the supposed claims of a particular society. And though Mr. Fuller was influenced by the purest motives, in prolonging his connection with the church at Soham, and had no worldly interest or ambition to gratify; yet it is pretty evident that a considerable part of his usefulness would have been lost, by complying with the wishes of the people and acknowledging their exclusive right to his services, had not Providence removed those scruples by imposing a necessity from which there could be no appeal.

In the early part of Mr. Fuller's public life, he had the happiness to become acquainted with the excellent Mr. Hall of Arnsby, whose peculiar delight it was, to encourage any promising talents which he discovered among his junior brethren in the ministry. Mr. Hall had long fixed his eye on Mr. Fuller, as likely to render important services to the cause of truth at some future period, and anxiously waited to introduce him to a situation more adapted to the range of his abilities. Amidst the difficulties at

tending his early labours, both from the pulpit and the press, and those which arose out of his religious connections, Mr. Hall was his counsellor and friend; and to the latest hour of his life, Mr. Fuller cherished the memory of that eminent man with filial affection and reverence.

It has already been stated, that the Baptist church at Kettering was destitute of a pastor during the greater part of the time Mr. Fuller was exercising his ministry at Soham; and by the advice of Mr. Hall, they waited several years in the hope of obtaining him. In the mean time, Mr. Fuller occasionally visited and preached at Kettering, where his character and talents were held in the highest estimation, and where a more extensive field of usefulness invited his attention. The interval, however, was equally painful to himself and to his friends. The church at Soham was distressed by the fear of losing him, and the church at Kettering for the want of him, while he himself was equally distressed by the influence of contending motives. "Oh that it had never been my lot," said he, "to undergo the trial of a remove! Such things not only kindle my affections, but my fears. I am not without my fears, that if I do remove, I shall sin against the Lord; and rather than do that, I would go softly all my years in the bitterness of my soul. Truly his favour to me is better than life. On the other hand, I am not without hope that I should not offend the Lord in so doing. Yet if I go, I shall take upon me a greater charge than I have hitherto had; and that greater charge is attended with greater obligations to diligence and faithfulness. When greater opportunities of doing good are put into our hands, it is but having more talents to improve, and more souls to be accountable for. These things make me fear and tremble."

This painful conflict ended in October, 1782, when Mr. Fuller removed with his family to Kettering. He became pastor over that church on the 7th of October, in the following year. Mr. Evans, Mr. Sutcliffe, Mr. Ryland, jr. and several other ministers, assisted on the occasion. Mr. Hall delivered what is usually called the Charge, from the last words of Paul to Timothy : "The Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit."

On coming to this new situation, it was Mr. Fuller's good fortune to find in the senior deacon of his church, Beeby Wallis, Esq. one who duly appreciated his talents and his worth; and who, by his superior discernment and

the transcendent excellency of his character, acquired and employed the most extensive influence in conducting the concerns of the society for the mutual honour and benefit of the pastor and the flock. The connection from first to last, allowing for those incidents inseparable from the present imperfect state of human society, was a source of great comfort and satisfaction to both parties. And though the eminence of Mr. Fuller's pulpit talents could not fail to attract the attention of more numerous and more opulent congregations than that over which he presided; yet he never felt any temptation to leave a people to whom he was so much attached, and from whom he received so many proofs of affection and esteem, in order to gratify the pride of popularity, or the love of filthy lucre.

Alluding sometimes to what are called the more respectable churches in the connection, and observing the very humble situation of some of their ministers, whose influence and authority are absorbed in the more dignified office of the lay elders, he used to say, "I love to be where I can have plenty of elbow room;" and certainly he was inspired with sufficient terror of that worst of all animals, "a lord brother." Referring once to the salary he received for his ministerial labours, which was at no time fully adequate to his support, he remarked, "If I had consulted my temporal interest, I might have doubled what I have had for the last twenty years; yet I might not have been better off than I am now." He was therefore contented and happy in the situation which Providence had assigned him.

Mr. Fuller's removal to Kettering seems to have been the commencement of a distinct era in his public life. Here he was brought into closer union with a circle of ministers to whom he was greatly attached, and who were equally ardent with himself in the investigation of truth, if not alike successful in its defence and propagation. Here also his labours took wider range, and were directed towards a more definite object.

Whether it be owing to a congeniality of mind, produced by frequent intercourse; to the collision of sentiment; to the influence which insensibly pervades the same society; to a spirit of emulation excited by comparison, or to any other assignable cause, it seems pretty evident that no great man ever existed alone in any age or country; and if others, equally eminent with himself be not produced by