LETTER I.

YOU have often re­quested me to devote what few leisure mo­ments I could spare, in minuting down some of the principal occurrences of my life, with a view, sooner or later, of exhibiting the account to the public eye; who, as you were pleased to say, could not but be somewhat curious to learn some well au­thenticated particulars of a man, well known to have risen from an obscure origin to a degree of notice, and to a participation of the favor of the Public, in a particular line of business, I may without vanity say, hi­therto unprecedented. This will appear more conspicuous if you consider, that I was not only poor, but laboured under every other disadvantage.

[Page 14] Ever willing to pay a becoming defer­ence to the judgment of a person of your acknowledged merits, and whom I have the felicity of numbering among my firmest friends. yet being less anxious to appear as an adventurer among the numerous tribe of authors, than to continue a considerable vender of the produce of their labours, I have continually delayed complying with your kind wishes.

I should probably have still delayed compil [...]ng my narrative, if the editors of a certain periodical publication, who month­ly labour to be witty, had not deemed me of sufficient consequence to introduce into their work, what they are pleased to call a Portrait of me! and though it was by them intended as a caricatura, yet I am persuaded it will appear to those who best know me, as a daubing more characteristic of the hea­vy brush of a manufacturer of signs, than the delicate pencil of a true portrait-paint­er; and on that account I should most certainly have considered it as unworthy notice, had they not daubed me with false features. This at once determined my w [...]ing resolution, and I am now sully resolved to minute down-such particulars of my pasinge through lise, as, though not [...]d [...]d [...]i [...]h an elegance of stile, will, I [Page 15]assure you, possess what to you, I flatter myself, will be a greater recommendation, viz. a strict adherence to truth. And though no doubt you will meet with some occur­rences in which you may find cause for censure, yet I hope others will present themselves, which your candour will induce you to commend. Should you be able to afford the whole a patient perusal and think the account meriting the public eye, I shall cheerfully submit to your decision, convin­ced that you will not,

John Dunton, a brother Bibliopole, long since exhibited a whole volume of dulness, which he called his "Life and errors."— The latter term I believe might be a very proper appendage to the title page of the innumerable lives which have been, and which will be published: For what man will dare to say of himself, his life has not been loaded with errors? That mine has been such, I readily acknowledge; and should this narrative be published, many perhaps may deem that act another (possibly the greatest) error. To those I shall only observe, that "to err is human, to forgive divine."

[Page 16] And of you, for the present, after inform­ing you, my next shall contain a faithful account of particulars relative to the early part of my life, with assuring you that I am, &c.

LETTER II.

IN my last I hinted that I should consine myself to a plain nar­rative [Page 17]of facts, unembellished with the me­retricious aid of lofty figures, or represent­ations of things which never had existence, but in the brain of the author. I shall therefore not trouble you with a history of predictions which foretold the future great­ness of your humble servant, nor with a minute account of the aspects of the planets at the very auspicious and important crisis when first I inhaled the air of this bustling orb; for, extraordinary as it may appear, it has never yet occurred to me, that any of the adepts in the astrological science have made a calculation of my nativity; 'tis pro­bable this high honour is by the planets des­tined to adorn the sublime lucubrations of the very ingenious Mr. SIRLEY, in the next edition of his stup—endous work! And here for the honour of the crast let me re­mark, that this most subline genius, has with myself to boast (and who would not boast of their genealogy in having a prince for their ancestor?) in being a Son of the re­nowned PRINCE CRISPIN.

A volume has been written with the title of "The Honour of the Taylors; or the History of Sir JOHN HAWKWOOD." But were any learned writer to undertake— The honour of the Shoemakers or the history [Page 18]of—, how insignificant a figure would the poor Taylors make, when compared with the honourable craft!

Should I live to see as many editions of my Memoirs published, as there have been of the Pilgrim's Progress, I may be induced to present the world with a Folio on that important subject.

But to begin— Were I inclined to pride myself in genea­logical descent, I might here boast that the family were originally settled at White Lackington, in Somersetshire, which ob­tained its name from one of my famous ancestors, and give you a long detail of their grandeur, &c. but having as little leisure as inclination to boast of what if true would add nothing to my merits, I shall for the prefent only say. that I was born at Wel­lington in Somersetshire, on the 31st of August, (old style) 1746. My father George I ackington was a Journcyman Shoemaker, who had incurred the displeasure of my grandfather for marrying my mother, whose maiden name was Joan Trott. She was the d [...]ughter of a poor weaver in Wellington; a good honest man, whose end was remark­able, [Page 19]though not very fortunate; in the road between Taunton and Wellington he was found drowned in a ditch where the water scarcely covered his face: He was, 'tis conjectured,

This happened some years before the mar­riage of my Father and Mother.

My grandfather George Lackington had been a Gentleman Farmer at Langford, a village two miles from Wellington, and acquired a pretty confiderable proper [...]y.— But my father's mother dying when my father was but about thirteen years of age, my grandfather who had two daughters, bound my father apprentice to a Mr. Hord­ly, a master shoemaker in Wellington, with an intention of setting him up in that business at the expiration of his time. But my father worked a year or two as a journeyman and, then displeased his father by marrying a woman without a shilling, of a mean family and who supported herself by spinning of wool into yarn, so that my mother was de­livered of your friend and humble servant, her first-born, and hope of the family, in my grandmother Trott's poor cottage; and that good old woman carried me privately to church unknewn to my father who was [Page 20](nominally) a Quaker, that being the reli­gion of his ancestors.

About the year 1750 my father having three or four children, and my mother prov­ing an excellent wife, my grandfather's resentment had nearly subsided, so that he supplied him with money to open a shop for himself. But that which was intended to be of very great service to him and his family, eventually proved extremely unfortunate to himself and them: for as soon as he found he was more at ease in his circurnstances, he contracted a fatal habit of drinking, and of course his business was neglected; so that after several fruitless attempts of my grand­father to keep him in trade, he was, partly by a very large family but more by his habitual drunkenness, reduced to his old state of a journeyman shoemaker: Yet so infatuated was he with the love of liquor, that the endearing ties of husband and father could not restrain him; by which baneful habit himself and family were involved in the extremest poverty.

So that neither myself, my Brothers or Sisters are indebted to a Father searcely for [Page 21]any thing that can endear his memory, or cause us to reflect on him with pleasure.

My father and mother might have said with Middleton,

But to our mother we arei ndebted for every thing. "She was a woman take her for all in all, I shall not look upon her like again." Never did I know or hear of a woman who worked and lived so hard as she did to sup­port eleven children; and were I to relate the particulars it would not gain credit. I shall only observe, that for many years to­gether, she worked generally nineteen or twenty hours out of every twenty-four; even when very near her time, sometimes at one hour she was seen walking backwards and forwards by her Spinning-wh [...]el, and her midwife sent for the next.

Out of love to her family she totally ab­stained from every kind of Liquor, water excepted, her food was chiefly broth, (little [Page 22]better than water and oatmeal) turnips. po­tatoes, cabbage, carrots, &c. her children fared something better, but not much, as you may well suppose. When I reflect on the astonishing hardships and sufferings of so worthy a woman, and her helpless infants, I find myself ready to curso the husband and father that could thus involve them in such a deplorable seene of misery and distress. It is dreadsul to add, that his habitual drunkenness shortened his days nearly one half, and that about twenty years fince he died. unregretted by his own chil­dren; nay more while nature shed tears over his grave, reason was thanksul that the cause of their poverty and misery was taken our of their way. Read this, ye inhuman parents, and shudder! Was a law made to banish all such fathers, would it not be a just, nay even a mild law?

Here, sir, permit me to drop so gloomy a subject, and again subseribe myself, &c.

LETTER III.

AS I was the eldest, and my father for the first few years a careful [Page 23]hard-working man, I fared something better than my brothers and sisters. I was put for two or three years to a day-school kept by an old woman: and well remember how proud I used to be to see several ancient dames lift up their hands and eyes with as­tonishment, while I repeated by memory several chapters out of the New-Testament, concluding me from this specimen to be a prodigy of Science. But my career of learn­ing was soon at an end, when my mother became so poor that she could not afford the mighty sum of two-pence per week for my schooling. Besides I was obliged to sup­ply the place of a nurse to several of my brothers and sisters. The consequence of which was, that what little I had learned was presently forgot; instead of learning to read, &c. it very early became my chief delight to excel in all kinds of boyish mis­chiefs; and I soon arrived to be the captain and leader of all the boys in the neigh­bourhood.

I was about ten years of age, when a man began to cry apple-pies about the streets, I took great notice of his methods of selling his pies, and thought I could do it much better than him. I communicated to a neighbouring baker my thoughts on the subject in such a manner as gave him a very [Page 24]good opinion of my abilities for a pie mer­chant, and he prevailed on my father to let me live with him. My manner of crying pies, and my activity in selling them, soon made me the favorite of all sac [...] as purcha­sed halspenny apple-pies, and halspenny plumb-puddings, so that in a few weeks the old pie-merchant shut up his shop. I lived with this baker about twelve or fifteen months, in which time I fold such large quantities of pies, puddings cakes, &c. that be often declared to his friends, in my hear­ing that I had been the means of extricating him from the embarrassing circumstances in which he was known to be involved prior to my entering his service.

During the time I continued with this baker, many complaints were repeatedly made against me for the childish follies I had been guilty of, such as throwing snow-balls, frightening people by slinging serpents and crackers into their houses, &c. I also happened one day to overturn my master's son a child about four years old whom I had been driving in a wheel-barrow. Dread­ing the consequences I immediately slew from my master's house and not knowing what else to do I went home to my suber, who you may easily concei [...]e, could not a [...]rd to keep me idle, so I was soon set [Page 25]down by his side to learn his own trade; and I continued with him several years, working when he worked, and while he was keeping Saint Monday, I was with boys of my own age fighting, cudgel-playing, wrest­ling, &c. &c.

LETTER IV.

I Must not forget an odd adventure that happened when I was about twelve years of age.

I had one day walked with my father to Holywell lake, a village two miles from Wellington, where meeting with some good ale, he could not sind in his heart to part from it until lato at night. When we were returning home by the way of Rock-well-Green, (commonly called Regue-Green from a gang of [...]obbe [...]s and house­breakers who formerly lived there) having [Page 26]just passed the bridge, we were met by sev­eral men and women, who appeared to be very much frightened, being in great agita­tion. They informed us that they were re­turning back to Rogue-Green, in order to sleep there that night, having been prevented from going home to Wellington by a dread­ful Apparition, which they had all seen in the hollow way, about a quarter of a mile distant; adding, that a person having been murdered there formerly, the ghost had walked ever since; that they had never before paid much attention to the well­known report; but now they were obliged to crediti, having had ocular demonstration. My father had drank too large a quantity of ale to be much afraid of any thing, and I (who could not let slip such an opportunity of shewing my courage) seconded matters for the poor terrified people to return with is; and as I offered to lead the van, they were prevailed on to make the attempt once nore; but said, that it was rather presump­tuous, and hoped that no dreadful confe­quence would ensue, as all the company, they trusted, were honest-hearted, and in­tended no harm to any person; they more­over added, that "God certainly was above the Devil." I then advanced, and kept be­before the company about fifty yards,

But when we had walked about a quarte of a mile, I saw at some distance before u in the hedge, the dreadful apparition that had so terrified our company. Here it is! (said I "Lord have mercy upon us!" replied some of me company, making a full stop; and woold have gone back, but shame prevent­ed them. I still kept my distance before, and called out to them to follow me, assu­ring them that I was determined to fee what it was. They then fell one behind another, and advanced in single files. As I pro­ceeded I too was seized with a timid appre­hension, but durst not own it; still heeping on before, although I perceived my hair to heave my hat from my head, and my teeth to chatter in my mouth. In fact I was greatly agitated at what I saw; the object much resembled the human figure as to shape but the size was prodigious. How­ever I had promised to see what it was, and for that purpose I obstinately ventured on about thirty yards from the place, where I first had sight of it. I then perceived that it was only a very short tree, whose limbs had been newly cut off, the doing of which had made it much resemble a giant. I then called to the company, and informed them [Page 28]with a hearty laugh, that they had been frightened at the stump of a tree.

This story caused excellent diversion for a long time afterwards in Wellington, and I was mentioned as an hero.

The pleasure and satisfaction I received from the discovery, and the honour I ac­quired for the courage I possessed in making it, has, I believe, had much influence on me ever after; as I cannot recollect that in any one instance I have ever observed the leaft fear of apparitions, spirits, &c. since.

While I am on this subject, I cannot re­sist the temptation of relating a truly ridi­culous affair that happened about this time at Taunton.

In the workhouse belonging to the parish of St. James, there lived a young woman who was an idiot. This poor creature had a gr [...] aversion to sleeping in a bed, and at bed-time would often run away to a field in the neighbourhood, called the Priory, where she slept in the cowsheds.

In order to break her of this bad custom, two men agreed to try if they could not frighten her out of it. And one night, when [Page 29]they knew that she was [...] took a white sheet with them, and [...] to the place, one of the men concealed himself to see the event while the other wrapped himself up in the sheet, and walked back­wards and forwards close before the cowshed in which she lay. It was some time before Molly paid any attention to the apparition; but at last up she got. "Aha! (said she) a white devil!" and by her manner of expres­sing herself she thought it was very strange to see a white devil. And soon after she exclaimed, "A black devil, too! a black devil, too!" With that the man who had the sheet on, looked over his shoulder, and saw (or imagined he saw) a person all over black behind him; the sight of which made him take to his heels. Molly then clapped her hands as fast as she could, crying out at the same time, "Run, black devil, and catch white devil! Run, black devil, and catch white devil!" and was highly divert­ed. But this proved a serious adventure to the white devil, as he expired within a few minutes after he had reached his own house; and from that time poor Molly was left alone to sleep in peace.

About ten years after the above affair, at Wivelscombe, nine miles from Taunton, a [Page 30]gentleman farmer's house was alarmed every night between twelve and one o'clock. The chamber doors were thrown open, the bed­clothes pulled off the beds, and the kitchen furniture thrown with violence about the kitchen, to the great terror of the family, insomuch that the servants gave their master and mistress warning to leave their places, and some of them actually quitted their ser­vice. This dreadful affair had lasted about six weeks, when a young gentleman who was there on a visit, being in bed one night, at the usual hour he heard his cham­ber door thrown open, and a very odd noise about his room. He was at first frightened; but the noise continuing a long time, he became calm, and laid still, revolving in his mind what he had best do. When on a sudden he heard the spirit creep under his bed, which was immediately lifted up, &c. This convinced him that there was some substance in the spirit; on which he leaped cut of bed, s [...]cared the door, and with his [...]ken staff belaboured the ghost under the bed as hard as he could, until he heard a female voice imploring mercy. On that he opened his chamber door, and called aloud for a light. The family all got up as fast as possible, and came to his room. He then informed them that he had got the spirit [Page 31]under the bed; on hearing which, most of them were terribly frightened, and would have run off faster than they came, but he assured them, they had nothing to fear; then out he dragged the half-murdered spi­rit from its scene of action. But how great was their surprise and shame, when they discovered that this tormenting devil was no other than one of their servant girls about sixteen years of age, who had been confined to her bed several months by illness.

This ghost was no sooner laid, than two others alarmed the neighbourhood; one of which for a long time shook a house every night, and terribly distressed the family; at length they all resolved one night to go over the whole house in a body, and see what it was that so agitated the building. They ex­amined every room, but in vain, as no cause could be discovered. So they very seriously as well as unanimously concluded, that it must be the devil.

But about a fortnight after this, one of the family being out late in the garden, saw a great boy get in at the window of an old house next door (part of which was in ruins), and soon after the house began to shake as usual, on which the family went out of their own habitation, and entered the old house where the boy was seen to get in; yet for a [Page 32]long time they could not discover any per­son, and were just turning to come out again, when one of the company observed the boy suspended above their heads, striding over the end of a large beam that ran across both houses.

It was then apparent that the violent agi­tation of the adjoining house was occasioned by nothing more than his leaping up and down on the unsupported end of this beam.

Another apparition had for a long time stolen many geese, turkeys, &c. and altho' it had been seen by many, yet nobody would venture to go near it, until at length one person a little wiser than the rest of his neighbours, seeing the famous apparition all over white stealing his fowls, was determined to be fully satisfied what kind of spirit it could be that had so great a predilection for poultry. He accordingly went round the yard, and as the apparition was coming over the wall, he knocked it down. This ter­rible ghost then proved to be a neighbouring woman, who had put on her shroud in order to deter any persons should they by chance see her, from coming near her.—. Thus, though she had for a long time suc­cessfully practised this ingenious way of procuring poultry, the old fox was caught at last.

[Page 33] This is so prolific a subject, that I could fill many pages with relations of dreadful spectres, which for a while have reigned with tyrannic sway over weak minds, and at length when calm Reason was suffered to assume its power, have been discovered to be no more objects of terror than those I have here noticed. But doubtless many such instances must have occurred to you.

It has indeed often astonished me, that in this enlightened age there should yet re­main numbers, not in the country only, but even in the metropolis, who suffer them­selves to be made miserable by vain fears of pre [...]ernatural occurrences, which generally owe their origin to the knavery of some ill­disp [...]ed person, who has a sinister purpose to answer thereby, or to the foolish desire of alarming the minds of weak people; a practice sometimes (though intended as fun) productive of very serious consequences. Now and then, indeed, these terrors are owing to accidental and ridiculous causes. As an instance, I shall give you an account of a terrible alarm which some years since took place in an Hospital of this city, as related to me by a gentleman, who at the time resi­ded in the house, for the purpose of com­pleting his medical education, and on whose veracity I can confidently rely.

[Page 34] For several nights successively a noise had been heard in the lower part of the building, like the continual tapping against a window, which led the night nurses wisely to con­clude it must certainly be occasioned by the Spirit of one of the bodies deposited in the dead-house endeavouring to escape; the sound seeming to proceed from that partic [...] ­lar quarter. The dread of these fogacious ladies at last became such, as totally to pre­vent their going from ward to ward to [...]do their duty, and determined my friend to at­tempt to lay this perturbed spirit; which however he apprehended would mo [...]e [...] ­dily, as well as effectually be perfor [...] [...] the astistance of a good cudgel, than by [...] ­orcisins; he therefore, instead of con [...] the Chaplain, gave orders the next [...] soon as the usual dreadful sound was he [...], to give him notice. This you may suppose they did not neglect doing, though at the same time they were shocked at his temerity, and apprehensive for the consequences.— Impressed with an idea of the alarm being occasioned by some servant or patient in the house, he immediately sallied forth, with a candle in one hand, and a good tough twig in the other, accompanied by two of the men servants of the Hospital, accountred in the same manner, resolved that if detected [Page 35]the party should meet with an ample reward. The dead-house was passed; the noise con­tinued; though it evidently proceeded from a window at some distance in the area— When the cavalcade came near the scene of action, the window suddenly and violently broke, without any thing being seen. This my friend confessed, for a moment occasion­ed his making a halt; but as nothing visible ha [...] escaped through the area, it occurred to him something might have made an en­trance that [...]y; accordingly he proceeded to the intornit part of the building, and on opening the door, the apparition immedi­ately not only appeared but disappeared, and that so instantaneously as not to afford time to apply the remedy intended. And what think you, was this dreadful spirit? That you may exercise your ingenuity at guessing, I will here conclude.

LETTER V.

A CAT—An odd beginning of a Letter. by the bye—but here highly important and proper, as tend­ing to relieve you from the anxious thoughts which, (no doubt) must have filled your mind on the subject of the concluding part of my former letter. I must give you one laughable instance more, which lately h [...]p­pened. Mr. Higley, the bookseller famous for selling odd volumes or broken sets of books, lived next door to a public-house in Russell-court, Drury-lane; this public-house was separated from his habitation only by a slight wainscot partition, through which Mr. Higley caused an hole to be cut and a sli­der put over it, so that when he wanted [...] beer, he always drew back the slider and had it handed to him through this conveni­ent aperture.

The night after Mr. Highley's death, which happened a few months since, the man who was left to take care of the corpse, about tw [...]lve o'clock hearing the landlord and his family going up stairs to their beds, on a sudden drew back the slider and hallood through the hola "Bring me a pint of beer." This order the [...]ndlord and his family heard, and were ter [...]ly ala [...]eed, as they [Page 37]really thought it had proceeded from the ghost of their neighbour Higley; the poor maid let fall the warming-pan, which came tumbling down the stairs; the landlady be­ing within the reach of her husband's legs, caught fast hold of them, which in his fright he mistook for poor Higley. But the man burs;ting into a hearty laugh, restored the spirits of our host and his family.

Having now, I dare say, had enough of Ghoste [...], I will proceed with my narration.

[...] time that I lived with the [...] became so celebrated for selling [...] number of pies, puddings, &c. that [...] years following, application was [...] my father, for him to permit me to [...] Almanacks a few market days before and after Christmas. In this employ I took great delight, the country people be­ing highly pleased with me, and purchasing a great number of my Almanacks, which ex­cited envy in the itinerant venders of Moore, Wing, Poor Robin, &c. to such a degree, that my father often expressed his anxiety lest they should some way or other do me a mischief. But I had not the least concern, for possessing a light pair of heels, I always kept at a proper distance.

O, my friend, little did I imagine at that [Page 38]time, that I should ever excite the same poor mean spirit in many of the booksellers of London and other places!

I was fourteen years and a half old when I went with my father to work at Taunton, seven miles from Wellington. We had been there about a fortnight, when my father in­formed our master, George Bowden, that he would return to Wellington again. Mr. Bowden was then pleased to inform my fa­ther that he had taken a liking to me, and proposed taking me apprentice; I seconded Mr. Bowden's motion (having a better pros­pect in continuing with him [...] [...] ­ing to Wellington with my [...]) as be offered to take me without any [...], and to find me in every thing. My father accepted his offer, and I was immediately bound apprentice for seven years to M [...] George and Mrs. Mary Bowden, as honest and worthy a couple as ever carried on a trade.

They carefully attended to their shop six days in the week, and on the seventh went with their family twice to an anabaptist [Page 39]meeting; where little attention was paid to speculative doctrines; but where sound mo­rality was constantly inculcated.

But in this, as in many other places of wor­ship, it was performed in a dull spiritless manner; so that the excellent morality taught there was not so much attended to as it would have been had it been enforced, or re [...]foreed by the captivating powers of oratory.

I well remember, that although I con­stantly [...]tended this place, it was a year or two before I took the least notice of the fermon, which was read; nor had I any [...]dea that I had the least concern in what the minister was (as 'tis called) preaching about. For,

LETTER VI.

AT the time that I was bound apprentice, my master had two sons, the eldest about seventeen years old, the youngest fourteen. The eldest had just been baptized, and introduced as a member of the arianistical dipping community where my master and his family attended. The boy was a very sober industrious youth, and gave his father and mother much pleasure. The youngest was also a good lad. Thus every thing continued well for some time aster I had been added to the family. Both of the boys had very good natural parts, and [Page 41]had learned to read, write, keep accounts, &c. But they had been at schools where no va­riety of books had been introduced, so that all they had read was the Bible. My master's whole library con [...]sted of a school-size Bible, Watts's Psalms and Hymns, Foot's Tract on Baptism, Culpepper's Herbal, the History of the Gentle Grast, an old imperiect volume of Receipts in Physic, Surgery, &c. and the Ready Reckoner. The ideas of the family were as [...] ribed as their library. My master [...] [...]ttention to business and work­ing hard, "minding the main chance." On Sunday [...] went to meeting; my master on that day [...] short grace before dinner, and the boys read a sew chapters in the Bible took a walk for an hour or two, then read a chapter or two more.

We then supped, and went early to bed, perfectly satisfied with having done our duty; and each having a quiet conscience, soon sell into the arms of "Nature's son nurse! swee steep."

I cannot here omit mentioning a very si [...]gular [...] of my master's: Every moning at all se [...]sons of the year, and in [Page 42]all weathers, he rose about three o'clock, took a walk by the river-side round French­ware-sields, stopt at an alehouse that was early open to drink half a pint of ale, came back before six o'clock, then called up his people to work, and went to bed again about seven.

Thus was the good man's family jogging easily and quietly on, no one doubting but he should go to heaven when he died, and every one hoping it would be a good while first.

"A man should be religious, not superstitious."

But alas! the dreadful crisis was at hand that put an end to the happiness and peace of this little family. I had been an appren­tice about twelve or fifteen months, when my master's eldest son George happened to go and hear a sermon by one of Mr. Wes­ley's preachers, who had left the plough-tail to preach the pure and unadulterated Gospel of Christ. Ey this sermon the fallow ground of poor George's heart was ploughed up, he was now persuaded that the innocent and good life he had led would only sink him deeper into hell: in short he found out that he had never been converted, and of course was in a state of damnation, without benefit of Clergy. But he did not long continue in [Page 43]this damnable state, but soon became one of

He persuaded himself that he had passed through the New [...]irth, and was quite sure that his nume was registered in the Book of Life, and (to the great grief of his parents) he was in r [...]lity become a new creature.

George had no sooner made things sure for himself, than he began to extend his con­ [...]n to his father, mother, brother, and me; and very kindly gave us to understand, that he was sure we were in a very deplorable state, "without hope, and without God in the world," being under the curse of the Law. In the long winter nights, as we sat at work together, he proved (in his way) that every man had original sin enough to damn a thousand souls; and a deal was said on that subject: Quotations were made from some deep author who had asserted, that there were "infants in hell but a span long;" and that "hell was paved with infant sculls," &c. As to Morality, George assured us it [Page 44]was of no avail; that as for good works, they were only splendid sins; and that in the best good work that any creature could per­form, there was sin enough to sink the doer to the nethermost hell, that it was faith alone that did every thing, without a grain of morality; but that no man could have one particle of this mysterious faith, before he was juftified; and that jus [...]isication was a sudden operation on the soul, by which the most execrable wretch that ever lived might instantaneously be assured of all his sins be­ing pardoned; that his body [...] that very moment became the living temple of the Holy Ghost; that he had fellowship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; and that Spirit was to be their constant and infallible guide.

My master very seldom heard any of these conversations, but my good mistress would sit down for hours together, with her Bible in her lap, from which she would read such scriptures as proved the necessity of living a good life, performing good works, &c. she also did her best to consute the t [...]ts of Original sin. Imputed righteousness. doc­trine of the Trinity, &c. &c. Unfortunately the good woman had no great talents for controversy; however Coorge had a very tenacious memory, and ca [...]loyed all his [Page 45]thoughts on these subjects, so that John his younger brother, and I also (two competent judges no doubt) thought that he had the best of the argu [...] on these edifying sub­jects, and about five months after George's conversion, John w [...]nt to hear those only true Ambassadors from Heaven,

These devil-dodgers happened to be so very [...]ful (that is very noisy) that they soon sent John home, crying out, he should be damned! he should be damned forever!

But John soon got out of the damnable state, and assured us that all his sins were forgiven, merely by believing that he had passed from death into life, and had union and communion with God. He now became as merry as before he had been sorrowful, and sung in Mr. Wesley's strain,

John sung to me, and said to me a deal in this wonderful strain, of which I did not comprehend one syllable.

But these extraordinary accounts and dis­courses, together with the controversiea be­tween the mother and the sons, made me think they knew many matters of which I was to­tally ignorant. This created in me a defire for knowledge, that I might know who was right and who was wrong. But to my great mortification, I could not read. I knew most of the letters, and a few easy words, and I set about learning with all my might. My mistress would sometimes instruct me; and having three half pence per week allowed me by my mother, this money I gave to John (my master's youngest son) and for every three half pence he taught me to spell one hour; this was done in the dark, as we were not allowed a candle after we were sent up stairs to bed.

I soon made a little progress in reading; in the mean time I also went to the Method­ist meeting. There, as "enthusiasm is the child of melancholy," I caught the infection. The first that I heard was one Thomas Bryant. known in Taunton by the name of the damnation preacher; (he had just lest off [Page 47]cobbling soles of another kind.) His sermon frightened me moft terribly. I soon after went to hear an old Scotchman, and he assured his congregation, that they would be damn'd, and double damn'd, and treble damn'd, and [...] [...]rever, if they died without [...] faith.

Thi [...] [...] [...]octrine and noisy rant and enth [...] [...] [...]orked on my passions, and made [...] [...]ve myself to be really in the damm [...] [...]ion that they represent­ed; and in [...] [...]erable state I continued for about a [...] [...]being all that time una­ble a work [...] up to the proper key.

[...] [...]ining and repeating enthusi­a [...] [...] hymns, and ignorantly ap­ply [...] ourticular texts of scripture, I got my imagination to the proper pitch, and thus was I born again in an instant, became a very great favourite of heaven, had an­gels to attend all my steps, and was as famil­iar with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, as any old woman in Mr. Wesley's connection; which by the bye, is saying a great deal.

LETTER VII.

IT is per [...] worth remarking, that what the methodists wall conviction of sin, being awakened, &c. is often a most dreadful state, and has the v [...] same effect on such as have lived a very in­nocent life as it has upon the most notorious offenders; this conviction (as they call it) is brought about by the preachers heaping all the curses in the Bible on the heads of the most virtuous as well as most vicious; for, say they, he who keepeth the whole law and offendeth but in one point, is as much in a state of damnation, as he that hath bro­ken every one of the commandments, or commitied robbery, murder, &c. so that [Page 49]they pour out every awsul denunciation sound in the Bible, and many not sound there, against all who have not the method­istical faith: this they call shaking the people over the mouth of hell.

Thus are many who before possessed "consiences void of offence towards God and ma [...]d" tricked out of their peace of mind, by the ignorant application of texts of scripture. Their fears being once so dreadfully la [...]ed, they often become in­supportable to themselves and all around them; many in this state have put a period to their existence, others run mad, &c.

If the above terror of conscience was only to take place in knaves and rascals, there would be no reason for blaming the method­ists on that head; "the wretch deserves the hell he feels."

But the case is otherwise amongst the methodists, they work on the fears of the most virtuous; youth and innocence fall victims daily before their threats of hell and damna­tion, and the poor seeble minded, instead of being comforted and encouraged are often by them sunk into an irrecoverable state of gloomy despondence and horrible despair.

It is true that many of their hearers are not only methodistically convinced, or alarmed, [Page 50]but are also hocus pocusly converted; but with thousands that is not the case, even with those who join their society, where so much of divine love, assurance, and extasies are talked of, where enthusiastic, rapturous, intoxicating hymns are sung, and befides the unhappy mortals in their own community, thousands there are who have loll their peace of mind by occasionally hearing their ser­mons.

And even those among [...] have arrived to the highest pitch of enthusiasm, and who at times talk of their soretaste of heaven, and of their full assurance of [...]in [...] forgiven, and of talking to the Deity as su­miliarly as they will to one another; (all which, and much more, I have heard a thousand times) yet even those very pre­tended savorites of heaven are (if we believe themselves) miserable for the greatest part of their time, having doubts, fears, horrors of mind, &c. continually haunting them wherever they are. Between twenty and thirty years since some thousands of them in London took it into their heads that the world would be at an end on such a night, and for some days previous to this fatal night, nothing was attended to but fasting and praying, and when it came, they made a watch-night of it, and spent it in prayer, [Page 51]&c. expecting every moment to be the last; and it is remarkable, that thousands who were not methodists gave credit to this ri­diculous prophecy, and were terribly alarm­ed; but the next morning they were ashamed to look at one another, and many durst not appear in their shops for some time after­wards. But others of them said that God had heard the prayers of the righteous, and so spared the world a little longer. Some years after that Mr. Wesley alarmed his people all over England with the tail of a comet; great numbers were dreadfully ap­prehensive lest this comet should scorch the carth to a cinder; but the saints by prayer made the comet keep a proper distance.

Charnock, of the last century, in his dis­course on Providence, has proved (in his way) that the universe was created and kept agoing for the sake of the elect, and that as soon as their number is complete, the whole will be destroyed.

The fanatics in every age have found their account in making their followers believe the end of the world was at hand. In some of the wills and deeds by which estates have been given to monasteries, &c. in France, they have expressed their belief of the world's being nearly at an end, as a reason for mak­ing such liberal donations to the church.— [Page 52]But it is happy for us that in England such wills would be set aside. A case of this na­ture occurred while Lord Northington was at the head of the law department. Reilly the preacher, had whedled, or frightened, an old woman (Mrs. Norton) out of a deed of gist of fisty pounds per year, but after the old woman's panic and fear of damnation was over, she had recourse to Chancery and his Lordship annulled the deed of gist. His Lordship's remarks on such kinds of impo­sition are very curious, and worth your reading. See Collectanea Juridica, vol. 1. p. 458.

In fact, the very best of the methodists are like children, elated or depressed by mere trisles; and many who joined them while young and ignorant, quit their society as they attain to years of discretion, or as their judgment is better informed.

LETTER VIII.

THE enthusiastic no­tions which I had imbibed, and the desire I had to be talking about religious mysteries, &c. answered one valuable purpose; as it caused me to embrace every opportunity to learn to read, so that I could soon read the easy parts of the Bible, Mr. Wesley's Hymns, &c. and every leisure minute was so employed.

In the winter I was obliged to attend my work from six in the morning until ten at night. In the summer half year, I only worked as long as we could sce without can­dle; but notwithstanding the close attenti­on I was obliged to pay to my trade, yet for a long time I read ten chapters in the Bible every day; I also read and learned many hymns, and as soon as I could procure some of Mr. Wesley's Tracts, Sermons, &c. I read them also; many of them I perused in Cloacina's Temple, (the place where my Lord Chesterfield advised his son to read the classics, but I did not apply them after reading to the farther use that his Lordship hints at.)

I had such good eyes, that I often read by the light of the Moon, as my master would [Page 54]never permit me to take a candle into my room and that prohibition I looked upon as a kind of persecution, but I always comfort­ed myself with the thoughts of my being a dear child of God; and as such, that it was impossible for me to escape persecution from the children of the devil, which epithets I very piously applied to my good master and mistress. And so ignorantly and imprudently zealous (being a r [...]al methodist) was I for the good of their precious souls, as sometimes to give them broad hints of it, and of the dangerous state they were in. Their pious good old minister, the Reverend Mr. Har­rison, I called "a blind leader of the blind;" and I more than once assured my mistress, that both he and his whole stock were in a state of damnation being "strangers to the hope of Israel, and without God in the world." My good mistress wifely thought that a good stick was the best way of argu­ing with such an ignorant infatuated boy as I was, and had often recourse to it; but I took care to give her a deal of trouble; for whenever I was ordered in my turn to read in the Bible, I always selected such chapters as I thought militated against Ari­ans, Socinians, &c. and such verses as I deemed savorable to the doctrine of Orgined Sin, Justification by Faith, imputed Right­eousness, [Page 55]the doctrine of the Trinity, &c. On such parts I always placed a particular emphasis, which puzzled and teazed the old lady a good deal.

Among other places I thought (having so been taught by the methodists) that the sixteenth chapter of Ezekiel very much favored the doctrines of original sin, impu­ted Righteousness, &c. that chapter I often selected and read to her, and she as often read the eighteenth chapter of the same pro­phecy, for the sake of the parable of the Father's eating sour grapes.

Whenever I read in St. Paul's Epistles on Justification by faith alone, my good mistress would read in the Epistle of St. James, such passages as say that a man is not justified by faith alone, but by faith and works, which often embarrassed me not a Jittle. However I comforted myself with the conceit of having more texts of Scripture on my side of the question than she had on her side. As to St. James, I was almost ready to conclude, that he was not quite orthodox, and so at last I did not much mind what he said.

[Page 56] Hitherto I had not frequented the metho­dist meetings by the consent or knowledge of my master and mistress; nor had my zeal been so great as to make me openly violate their commands. But as my zeal increased much faster than my knowledge I soon dis­regarded their orders, and without hesitation ran away to hear a methodistical sermon as often as I could find opportunity. One Sunday morning at eight o'clock my mis­tress seeing [...]her sons set off, and knowing that they were gone to a methodist meeting, determined to prevent me from doing the same by locking the door, which she ac­cordingly did; on which in a superstitious mood. I opened the Bible for direction what to do (ignorant methodists often prac­tise the same superstitious method) and the first words I read were these, "He has given his angels charge concerning thee, lest at any time tho [...] shouldst dash thy foot against a stone." This was enough for me; so without a moments hesitation, I ran up two pair of stairs to my own room, and out of the window I leaped, to the great terror of my poor mistress. I got up immediately, and ran about two or three hundred yards, to­wards the meeting-house; but alas! I could run no farther; my feet and ancles were most intolerably bruised, so that I was [Page 57]obliged to be carried back and put to bed; and it was more than a month before I re­covered the use of my limbs. I was igno­rant enough to think that the Lord had not used me very well, and resolved not to put so much trust in him for the future.

This my rash adventure made a great noise in the town, and was talked of many miles round. Some sew admired my a­mazing strength of faith, but the major part pitied me, as a poor ignorant, deluded and infatuated boy.

LETTER IX.

IN the fourth year of my apprenticeship my master died; now although he was a good husband, a good fa­ther, and a good master, &c. yet as he had not the methodistical faith, and could not pronounce the Shibboleth of that sect, I pi­ously feared that he was gone to hell.

My mistress thought that his death was hastened by his uneasy reslections on the bad behaviour of his sons after they com­menced methodists, as before they were con­verted each was dutiful and attended to his trade, but after they became saints they at­tended so much to their spiritual concerns that they acted as though they supposed they were to be fed and cloathed by miracles, like Mr. Huntingdon, who informs us in his book called "The Bank of Faith," that the Lord sent him a pair of breeches, that a dog brought him mutton to eat, fish died at night in a pond on purpose to be eaten by him in the morning; money, and in short every thing he could desire he obtained by prayer. Thus as foot says,

[Page 59] To give you a better idea of methodisti­cal ignorance and neglect of ordinary means of living, &c. I will relate one instance more. Mary Hubbard (an old woman of Mr. Wesley's society) would often wash her linen, hang it out to dry, and go away to work in the fields, or to Taunton market, four miles from her house; and when blam­ed, she would answer "that the Lord watch­ed over her, and all that she had, and that he would prevent any person from stealing her two old smocks, or if he permitted them to be stolen he would send her two new in their stead." And I seriously assure you, sir, that there are many thousand Mary Hub­bards amongst the methodists.

As I had been bound to my mistress as well as my master, I was of course an ap­prentice still. But after my master's death I obtained more liberty of conscience (as I called it) so that I not only went to hear the meth dist sermons, but was also admitted into their society; and I believe they never had a more devou [...] enthusiastical mem­ber; for several years I regularly attended every sermon and all their private meetings.

As you are probably unacquainted with the nature of these private meetings, a short account of them may perhaps afford you some amusement.

[Page 60] The late Mr. Wesley instituted amongst his people, besides the public preachings, several kinds of private meetings; and as the prayer-meeting is the least private of any of them, I will sirst take notice of that.

To the prayer-meetings, which were in general held in private houses, they often invited people who were not of their society. An hymn was first sung, then they all knelt, and the first person who felt a motion made an extemporary prayer; when he had done another began, and so on, for about two hours.

But it so happened sometimes, that one of the brethren began to pray without hav­ing the gist of prayer (as they call it) and then he often stuck fast, like some of the young orators at Coach ker's Hall, &c. Prayer-meetings were held in such high es­teem amongst them that they asserted, more were "born again", and more " made free from all the remains of sin," or in other words of their own, "made perfect as God is perfect" in these kinds of meeting, than at public preaching, &c. Thus, as Pomsret says,

But it is impossible for you, my friend, to [Page 61]form any just idea of these assemblies, ex­cept you had been present at them: one wheedles and coaxes the Divine Being, in his addresses; another is amorous and lus­cious; and a third so rude and commanding, he will even tell the Deity that he must be a liar if he does not grant all they ask. In this manner will they work up one another's imaginations until they may actually be said to be in a state of intoxication, and whilst in this intoxicated state, it often happens that some of them recollect a text of scripture, such as "thy sins are forgiven thee," or "go and sin no more," &c. and then they declare themselves to be born again, or to be sanctified, &c.

They have another kind of private meet­ing after the public preaching on Sunday evenings, in which the preacher meets all the members of the society, who stay behind after the general congregation is dismissed. To this society the preacher gave such ad­vice as he deemed better suited to a godly few than to a promiscuous multidue of " outvard court worshippers."

Their love-feast is also a private meeting of as many members of the community as please to attend; and they generally come from all parts within several miles of the place where love-feasts are held.

[Page 62] Whe [...] all are met they alternately sing and pray; and such amongst them as think that their experience (as they call it) is remark­able, stand up in their place and relate all the transactions between God, the devil, and their souls. At such seasons as this I have heard many of them declare they had just received the pardon of all their sins while Brother such-a-one was in prayer; another would then get up and assert that he was jost at that instant made perfectly free from sin.

At these times the spirit is supposed to be very powerfully at work amongst them; and such an unison of sighing and groaning succeeds, that you would think they had all lost their senses. In this frantic state, many apply to themselves such texts of scripture as happen to come into their heads.

In the love-feast they have buns to ca [...], which are mutually broken between each brother and sister, and they have also water to drink, which they hand from one to another. These meetings begin about seven o'clock, and last until nine, or ten.

In London, Bristol, and other large places, they have some private meetings, unknown to the community at large. These meetings consist of all married men at one time, young and ummarried men at another time, the [Page 63]married women by themselves, and the single women by themselves; and to each of these classes Mr. Wesley went, and gave such advice or exhortations as he thought suitable to their situation in life, seldom fail­ing to speak much in praise of celibacy, to the Maids and Bachelors under his pastoral care. I will in my next give you an ac­count of their watch-nights, class-meetings, bands, and other particulars.

LETTER X.

THE Watch-night begins about seven o'clock. They sing hymns, pray, preach, sing, and pray again; [Page 64]then exhort, sing and pray alternately, until twelve o'clock. The hymns which they sing on those nights, were wrote for such occasions, and abound with gloomy ideas, which are increased by the time of night; and it must be remarked, that the major part of those who attend these nocturnal meetings having fasted the whole of the day (according to Mr. Wesley's orders) are in a very proper state of mind to entertain the most extravagant whims or enthusiastic no­tions that can possibly enter the heads of any visionaries. So that such nights are often very prolific, as numbers are said to be born again, and become the temples of the Holy Ghost on watch-nights, which makes those nights esteemed by them.

Mr. Wesley, in every place where his people were numerous, had divided them into classes, consisting of twelve or fourteen brothers or sisters. Sometimes men and women met together in the same class (as they called it) and other classes consisted of all men or all women. Each of these clas­ses had one in it who was called the leader. In such classes where men and women met together, the leader was always a brother: and so of course when the class consisted of men alone. But in the women's classes a sister was always the leader.

[Page 65] When they met together, the leader first gave out an hymn, which they all sang; after the hymn they all knelt, and their leader made an extemporary prayer; after which they were seated, and when the leader had informed them of the state of his own mind, he enquired of all present, one after another, how they found the state of their souls. Some he found were full of faith and assurance, others had dreadful doubts and fears; some had horrid temptations; others complained of a lukewarm state, &c. In these meetings some of the members spoke of themselves, as though they were as pure as angels are in heaven, but with the gene­rality of them, it was far otherwise, and no­thing was more common among them than to hear the major part exclaiming against themselves, and declaring that they were the most vile and abandoned wretches on this side hell, that they wondered why the earth did not open and swallow them up alive. But they generally added, that "the blood of Christ cleanses from all sin," and that "where sin abounded there would grace much more abound." Indeed it was easy to remark that the reason why they painted themselves in such odious colous, was only to boast of an astonishing quantity of grace [Page 66]that God had bestowed on them, in thus pardoning all their abominations and num­bering them with the household of faith, who ought to have been shut up in the nether­most hell. To each of these the leader gave a word of comfort, or of correction in the best manner he was able. They then sang and prayed again. This lasted about one hour. And every one in Mr. Wesley's connection did, or was expected to meet, each in his own class once in a week. In these classes each made a weekly contribu­tion towards the general support of the preachers, &c. Such as were very poor con­tributed a penny per week, others two-pence, and some who could afford it, six-pence. This money was entered in a book kept for that purpose, and one in every class called the steward, had the care of the cash.

I now come to speak of the Bands, which consisted only of justified persons; that is such as had received the assurance of their sins being pardoned. In the classes, both the awakened (as they call them) and the justified, and even those that we e made perfect met all together, as did the married and the single, and often men and women. but none were admitted into any band but such as were at least in a justified state, and the married of each sex met by themselves, [Page 67]and the single by themselves. About ten was the number generally put in one band; all these must belong to and meet in some class, once a week, when not hindered by sickness &c. and they were also to meet weekly in their band. When met, they first sung, then made a short prayer; that done, the band-leader informed them of the state of his mind during the last week, &c. He then made enquiry into the state of all present, and each related what had passed since they last met; and what visitations they had received from God, what tempta­tions from the devil, the slesh, &c. And it is a maxim amongst them that exposing to one another what the devil has particu­larly tempted them to commit, will make the old fellow more careful how he tempts, when he knows that all his secrets will be told the next meeting. In the classes they only confessed in general terms, that they have been tempted by the world, the flesh and the devil. But in the bands they con­fessed the particular fins which they had been tempted to commit, or had actually committed.

The last time I met in band was in Lon­don, where an old man (near seventy years of age) informed us that he had for several weeks together laboured under a very griev­ous [Page 68]temptation of the devil, who all this time had been constantly tempting him to commit adultery; he farther informed us, that having let too much of his house to lodgers, they were obliged to put the maid's bed in the room where he and his wife slept; and that one morning he had seen the maid lying asleep, nearly or quite uncovered, and he again assured us that ever since that time the devil had been every day tempting him to do that which was nought with the maid. I could not help thinking the old gentleman was right in charging it on the devil, as there was little reason to think it was any tempta­tion of the flesh. Permit me to add, that this old buck had a wise about half his own age. I have been informed that some young men of the brotherhood, have at times dis­guised themselves in women's clothes, and have so got into the women's bands; it may be very curious to hear the confessions of the holy sisters. By this time I suppose you have had enought of band meetings.

Mr. Wesley instituted another kind of private meeting for the highest order of his people, called the select bands; to which none were admitted but such as were sanc­tified, or made perfect in love, and freed from all the remains of fin. But as I never prosessed perfection, I was not permitted [Page 69]to enter into this holy of holies. But I have known a great number of these per­fect saints, of both sexes; and I also lived in the same house a whole year with one of these intire holy sisters. A few days before I came to live in Chiswell-street, one of these perfect sisters was detected in stealing coals out of the shed of one of the sanctified biothers, but she, like the old fellow above mentioned said it was the devil that tempt­ed her to do it.

Four times every year new tickets are distributed to all Mr. Wesley's people throughout the three kingdoms. Their ticket is a very sinall slip of paper, with a text of scrip ure on it, which is exchanged every quarter for some other text. Such as are only in a class, have a different text from such as are in a band, so that no one can be admitted into a general meeting of the bands, appointed by any of the preach ers when he intends to give them an exhor­tation, nor into any particular band, by a common society ticket. On the common tickets are such texts as these: "Now is the accepted time."—" Awake thou that sleepest," and such like. But those for the band; are in a higher strain; as, "Be ye persect as your heavenly father is perfect." "Go on unto perfection,"—"Ye are chil­dren [Page 70]of the light."—"Your bodies are temples of the Holy Ghost;" and other texts of a similar tendency. For these tick­ets, each poor person paid one shilling, such as were rich paid more; indeed the money seemed to be the principal end of issuing tickets, at least in country places, the mem­bers in the community being so well known to each other, that they scarce ever shewed their tickets in order to gain admittance. I forgot to inform you that prayer-meetings, class-meetings, band-meetings, &c. were in general held in private houses, belonging to some of the brethren.

LETTER XI.

YOU now see what sort of a society I was got into. In country places particularly, they consist of sarmers, [Page 71]husbandmen, shoemakers, woolcombera, weavers, their wives, &c. I have heard Mr. Wesley remark that more women are converted than men; and I believe that by far the greatest part of his people are females; and not a few of them four, disappointed old ma ds, with fome others of a less prud­ish disposition.

Lavater in his essay on physiognomy says, "Women sink into the most incurable me­lancholy, as they also rise to the most en­raptured heights," In another place he says, "By the irritability of their nerves, their incapability for deep inquiry and firm deci­sion, they may easily from their extreme sensibility, become the most irreclaimable, the most rapturous enthusiasts."

There are thousands in this society who will never read any thing besides the bible, and books published by Mr. Wesley. For several years I read very little else, nor would I go (at least very seldom) to any other place of worship; so that instead of hearing the sensible and learned ministers of Taun­ton, I would often go four, five, or six miles to some country village, to hear an inspired husbandman, shoemaker, black smith, or wool comber; and frequently in frost and snow have I rose a little after midnight (not knowing what time of night it was) and have [Page 72]wandered about the town until five o'clock, when the preaching began; where I have often heard a sermon preached to not more than ten or a dozen people. But such of us as did attend at this early hour, used af­terwards to congratulate each other on the great privilege we enjoyed, then off we went to our work, shivering with cold.

I was first converted to methodism when I was about sixteen years of age, from that time until I was twenty-one I was a very sin­cere enthusiast, and every spare hour I en­joyed I dedicated to the study of the bible, reading methodistical books, learning hymns, hearing sermons, meeting in societies, &c. My memory was very tenacious, so that every thing I read I made my own. I could have repeated several volumes of hymns; when I heard a sermon, I could have peach­ed it again, and nearly in the same words; my bible had hundreds of leaves folded down, and thousands of marks against such texts as I thought favoured the doctrines (or whims) which I had imbibed. So that I stood forth as the champion of methodism wherever I came.

But alas! my godly strict lise at length suffered interruption. I will give you a sar­ther account of the method [...]ts when I come to the time when I finally lest their society.

[Page 73] The election for two members of parlia­ment was strongly contested at Taunton, just as I attained my twenty-first year; and be­ing now of age, the fix or seven months, which I had to serve of my apprentiship were purchased of my mistress by some friends of two of the contending candidates; so that I was at once set free in the midst of a scene of riot and dissipation.

As I had a vote, and was also possessed of a few ideas above those of my rank and situ­ation, my company was courted by some who were in a much higher sphere; and (probably what they partly intended) in such company I soon forgot my godly or me­thodistical connections, and ran into the opposite extreme: so that for several months most of my spare hours were devot­ed to the

[Page 74] Here I had nearly sunk for ever into meanness, obscurity and vice; for when the election was over, I had no [...]ger open houses to eat and drink in at free cost.

However I did not sink quite so low as the commonality of journeymen shoemak­ers, but in general worked very hard, and spent my money in better company.

Notwithstanding, at times I was very un­easy, and although I had not been at any methodistical meeting during the time that I had lived this dissipated life, yet my mind was not freed entirely from the superstitious fears I had there imbibed; so that whene­ver any person asked me, what would be­come of me (that had lived such a holy life) if I should die in the state of backsliding from "the good old way?" I always ac­knowledged that I should be eternally damn'd, were that to be the case. E [...]t I must confess that I was not much afraid of dying in such a state, as I was too much pre­possessed with the methodistical notions of free grece, that would not let me finally be lost, prestaning that I must wait as it were for a second call to repentance, jushsication, &c. which I had been taught to believe might take place instantaneously, and put [...] in a hurry, and so [...].

[Page 75] I often privately took the bible to bed with me, and in the long summer mornings read for hours together in bed, but this did not in the least influence my conduct. As you know great events often arise from lit­tle causes, I am now going to relate a cir­cumstance, trivial in itself, though product­ive of a more considerable change in my situation, then any I had yet experienced.

I was twenty-one years of age the 11th of September, 1767, the election was over the latter end of March, 1768. It was in this year that my new master's wife infisted on my purchasing milk of a milk-maid who was a customer at the shop; which command I refused to comply with, as I had a smart little milk-maid of my own. But as my mistress wore the breeches, my master was obliged, by his wife's order, to inform me that I must comply with her mandate, or get another master. I lest him without he­sitation; and the same afternoon went to Wellington, took leave of my father and mother, and informed them of my intention to go to Bristol. After two or three days I retorned back to Taunton, where I stayed a day or two more. In which time I be­came c [...]amoured with, or insatuated by, the beautiful Nancy Trott: and although I saw the impropriety of the measure, yet I could [Page 76]not resist the fair tempter, who prevailed with me to permit her to accompany me in my journey.

We rested a week in Bridgewater, where I worked and got money to convey us to Exbridge, seventeen miles on this side Bris­tol; and there I saw my conduct in such a point of view as made me resolve to leave her.

My finances amounted to three shillings and one penny, out of which I gave her half [Page 77]a crown, and with the remaining sevenpence, without informing her of my purpose, I set off for Bristol; where I arrived in a few hours, and got work the same evening.

A few days after I went to the inn where the Taunton carrier put up, to onquire after Miss Trott, as I wanted to know if she had returned safe to Taunton. I was informed that she was in Bristol nearly as soon as I was. Knowing but little of the world, and still less of women of her description, I was quite unhappy on her account, for fear that being in a strange place she might be in want and distress; which thought induced me to offer to several of my countryment five shillings to the first who should bring me an account where I might find her; but I did not see her until several weeks after that.

The Taunton carrier gave me a letter from my good mistress Bowden (who by marrying again had changed her name to Dingle). The contents of this letter very much surprised me. If informed me that a day or two before I sell out with my last mistress (which was the trisling cause of my having Taunton) Betty Tucker, a common lass had sworn a child to me; that the pa­rish o [...]s had been to my master's shop [Page 78]within an hour after I had left it to go to Wellington, and that they had been at Wel­lington just as I had left that place, and af­terwards hearing that I was in Bridgwater they had pursued me thither. But the morning on which they arrived, I had set off for Exbridge; and believing that I had intentionally fled before them, they had given over the chase for the present.

Reslecting on this affair, although my conduct was very far from entitling me to entertain such a supposition yet I was then weak enough to imagine, that being a par­ticular savourite of heaven a kind of miracle had been wrought to save me from a prison, or from marrying a woman I could not bear the idea of living with a single week; and as I had not any knowledge of her being with child (not having seen her for three months before) I had not taken any measure to avoid the consequence, but put myself in the way of the officers: for, as I have just told you after I had taken leave of my father and mother, I went back to Taunton, and walked about publicly one whole day, and part of another.

This girl was delivered about two months afterwards of a still born child, so that I was never troubled for expences. Methinks you are ready to say with Pomfret,

LETTER XII.

THE subject of my last recalls to my mind a ridiculous affair, which excited much mirth in that part of the country.

During the election at Taunton, a gen­tleman one day came in a post-chaise to the White-hart Inn, kept by Mr. Baldwin, and after having refreshed himself, strolled into the yard, and seeing the hostler, asked him if he could inform him where they took in the news? The hostler understanding him in a literal sense, directed him to a booksel­ler's shop on the opposite side of the way; this shop was kept by Miss A—d—n, a beautisul young lady of irreproachable cha­racter, and one whose sine understanding [Page 80]and polished taste did honour to the profes­sion; which profession she only adopted for an amusement, as she possessed an indepen­dent fortune.

Our gentleman on entering the shop, en­quired of the shop-maid for her mistress, but the maid being used to serve in the shop, and knowing that her mistress had some la­dies with her, informed the gentleman that she could help him to any thing that he wanted. But on his saying he had some private business with her mistress, he was shewed into a back parlour, and the mistress being informed a gentleman wanted to speak to her, she went directly to him. The moment she entered the room, he clasped her in his arms, called her a divine crea­ture, &c. This so alarmed Miss A—d—n that she sereamed aloud; on hearing of which, the ladies preceded by the house­maid and shop-maid repaired to the parlour, where they found Miss A—d—n almost in fits. The gentleman thinking it was only a trick to raise her price, took but little n [...]tice, on which one of the maids ran out and cal­led in several of the neighbours, who on coming into the parlour, saw with astor [...] ment our Sir Harry Wildair taking [...] per liberties with Miss A—d—n, and d [...] ­sired him to desist. But he desned them [Page 81]not to attempt to put tricks on travellers, and ordered them to leave the room. In­stead of obeying his injunctions they in a resolute tone ordered our spark to go in­stantly about his business. However he still kept his ground, until the mayor of the town, who happened to live just by, was called in. Mr. mayor demanded to know why he took such freedom with the lady? Our gentleman, seeing that the af­fair began to look very serious, now be­came calm, and informed the company that having an inclination for a frolic, he had inquired for a bad house, and had been di­rected there; adding that if there had been any mistake, he was very sorry for it, and would beg the lady's pardon. On hearing this, the company was more surprised than before, and demanded of the gentleman, who had informed him that that house was a bawdy-house? He, without hesitation re­plied, the hostler at the White Hart. Up­on this the hostler was sent for, and on his being asked, if he had directed that gentle­man, to Miss A—d—n's as to a bawdy, house? The poor fellow, with marks of terror and surprise answered, no. The gen­tleman never asked me for a bawdy-house, he only asked me for a house where they took in the news. So that he hostler's un­derstanding [Page 82]him in a literal sense, caused all the confusion. The affair however had got so much air that our spark was glad to leave the town immediately.

A very strange unaccountable circum­stance happened in this Inn, about the same time; one of those occurrences that puzzle the philosopher, and strengthen superstition in weak minds. Three or four gentlemen of the neighbourhood were drinking wine in one of the rooms, when the landlord of the Inn (as it appeared to them) walked into the room, and coming up to the table, around which they were seated, they addres­sed him with Mr. Baldwin, how do you do? sit down and take a glass of wine with us; but instead of doing as requested, the supposed Inn-keeper walked out of the room, without making any reply; which not only surpris­ed, but offended the company, who rung the bell violently, and on the waiter's ap­pearance, they ordered him to send in his master. The waiter informed them that his master was not at home. The gentlement repli­ed that he was at home a sew minutes since, and therefore they insisted on seeing him; but the man assured them they were mistaken, as his master was in Bristol, and had been there several days. They then ordered the waiter to send in Mrs. Baldwin, who imme­diately [Page 83]appearing, the gentlemen asked her where Mr. Baldwin was, and she informed them as the waiter had already done, that he was in Brisltol, and had been there feveral days, on which the gentlemen grew very angry, and swore that Mr. Baldwin had just before come into the room, and on their re­questing him to partake of their wine, had insulted them by going out of the room, without deigning to give them an answer. Mrs. Baldwin then drew out of her pocket aletter she had that morning received from Mr. Baldwin, by which it was apparent, that he really was in Bristol. The story was then told round the neighbourhood, and all the old women concluded that Mr. Bald­win must certainly be dead, and that he died at the very instant that the gentlemen saw him come into the room; but Mr. Baldwin returning two days after, rendered it neces­sary for them to vary their story; they then asserted that it was a token, or some warning of his death, and had no doubt but it would very soon happen. It was generally tho't that Mr. Baldwin was weak enough to pay such attention to the story and the inserence, as to hurt his health, as he really died within a year after, and the old women were not a litile [...]leased at the event, as it tended to [...].

[Page 84] A more ridiculous affair happened about ten years since, at the two bells, opposite Whitechapel church. The landlord was sitting one night with some jovial com­pany, one of whom happened to say that he prayed to God, that such a thing should not come to pass, the landlord replied in a good humoured manner, your prayers will neither do good or harm; upon which the other said a deal to persuade the host that his prayers would do great things; but the more he said in praise of his prayers, the more the landlord laughed at, and ridiculed him. The man at last insisted that he could pray the landlord to death in two months time, and offered to bet him a crown bowl of punch to the truth of it, which the land­lord accepting, the wager was laid, and al­most every night after this, the man came to the house, and constantly laughed at the land­lord, and assured him that he would lose his wager; and however strange in may appear, our host did die within the time, and his wi­dow paid the wager. I think there cannot remain a doubt but that the ridiculous talk of the fellow actually affected the landlord's mind, and hastened his death, and the fol­lowing instances tend also to shew how easily the lives of some are shortened.

Being at Bristol about sour years since, I [Page 85]enquired after a worthy leather seller whom I had sormerly known, and was informed that he was lately dead, and that his death was supposed to have been hastened by a famous fortune-teller, who having cast his nativity, declared that he would die within six months, which afflicted his mind so as to accomplish the prediction. The story of the late Dr. Pitcairn, of Edinburgh, and the collier is well known.

I have set down the above instances, in order to shew how easy it is to trifle away the lives of our fellow creatures, and surely such who wantonly do it, must afterwards have very gloomy reflections.

LETTER XIII.

I BEFORE menti­oned my arrival at Brisiol, where I took a lodging in Castle-street, at the house of a [Page 86] Mr. James; a much more decent resident than commonly falls to the lot of journey­men shoemakers.

In this house I found a Mr. John Jones, a genteel young man, just turned of twenty-one years of age: He was also a son of Crispin, and made women's stuff shoes; which he sold by the dozen to warehouses. This Mr. Jones and I were soon very inti­mate; we kept ourselves neatly dressed, and in general worked head, spending our mo­ney chiesly in the company of women. As,

We followed this course about four months. During this time Mr, Jones once persuaded me to go with him to the play­house. where we saw Shakespear's fine com­edy of "As you like it." This was a seast indeed to me, who had never before s [...]en nor even read any theatrical production. 'Tis impossible for me to describe my sensations on the occasion. Between the play and the entertainment (which was the Mayor of Garrat) Mr Edward Shuter performed a short piece called "The dunken man." [Page 87]This was the only time that I ever saw that extraordinary genius, but he made such an impression on my mind, that it is impossible I ever should forget him. I believe it is not generally known, and as sew would ever have suspected, that this child of Momus was also a child of grace.

Since the publication of the first edition of these memoirs, I have read "The me­moirs of Mr. Tate Wilkinson," patentee of the Theatres Royal of York and Hull, and was much surprised to learn that the famous Ned Shuter was a gracious soul. I will give you a passage or two out of Mr. Wil­kinson's memoirs, vol. ii. page 142, 12mo edition, &c. "Mrs. Rich was a methodist, not that I mention it as a recommendation, or that she was a better christian for bowing at the shrine of nonsense and hypocrisy. Mr. Foot's lash on methodisin at that time was severely selt by that sect; their compo­sition is gloom, melancholy, envy, and spleen; cheerfulness is seldom observed to dawn upon their countenances. Notwith­standing their boasted inspirations, if me­thodist preachers had a little reflection, what must they think of daring to pronounce eve­ry theatre the devil's house, and all the players the devil's children! I hope they are joking; and though it may be joking, [Page 88]I am sorry to say it is wicked. To make a complete actor requires more requisites to universally excel than almost any other pro­fession whatever.

"The amazing powers displayed by a Garrick, a Barry, a Mrs. Cibber, and a Sid­dons, and many others, is evidently the hand of God; he alone could give the finish to such intrinsic merit. And that the Almigh­ty has intended them for that very work is evident; which, if not so produced, the world would have lost seeing the highest pitch of admiration the human frame can aspire to. To mention Shakespeare only, prove more than all the before-mentioned persons; as he is a host, and stands une­qualled as a moral writer, in many points, as well the wonder of the world, as an uni­versal genius. I do not wish to insinuate that every methodist is an hypocrite, but I mean that I think the greatest part are re­ally so. So of the preachers, I believe there are some in earnest, though I fear the number might be easily told. When per­sons get to the hei [...]ht of a Whitefield and a Wesley's fame for acting, there is a pride as well as a duty in behaving well, and they both laboured hard: but I dare say neither of those gentlemen ever refused a golden ticket for their separate benesits any more [Page 89]than I ever did. O yes, I actually did once resuse five guineas at York! but I was mo­dest and rejected it; I expected it to be of­fered the second time—it was not; what then? why then I was disappointed, and never will be so soolish again, if opportu­nity offers. Let one of the tabernacle boast the same—they know better—and that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. But O ye saints of your own creating! I will preach to you—mark! judge not of plays and players lest you be judged. Those who are the most censorious on the infirmi­ties of others, are usually most notoriously guilty of far greater failings themselves; and sanctified methodistical slander is, of all the most severe, bitter and cruel, and is so easily distinguished, unless by the elect, that it is not worth dwelling any longer upon it.

"In the comedy of the hypocrite, the colonel says he supposes they go to the play for the benesit of the brethren: Cantwell answers "the charity covereth the sin;" which was actually the case; for in the year 1757, as Sh [...]er was bountiful to the taber-n [...]cle, Mr. Whitefield not only permitted, but advised his hearers to attend Shuter's benefit; but (a-la-node theatre) for that night only. A preacher at Hull was once in [Page 90]distress and imprisoned; I actually sent him a leg of mutton and turnips. Previous to that I had [...] an attendant at his taberna­cle; he entertained great hopes of my con­version; and I certainly consess to the being wicked enough to have been deemed a ta­bernacle methodist. I had then quitted the old play-house in Lowgate, for a new one in Pinkle-street. That the principal per­formers of conventicles love to follow the smell of a theatre is evident, by their parti­cularly consecrating those unhallowed shops, and thinking them enviable situations to practise their own love-feasts in. "Put out the light, and then"—So this Reverend Mr. Rutherford, formerly a London coachman, erected his pulpit on the spot where Brutus had been in his pulpit also: the pit he con­verted into pews, and the stage and side boxes were appropriated for the beaus and belles. Here follows (most truly copied) his letter to me caused partly by the brass rims not being come from York to Hull; for he told me over a bottle, to which he had no aversion, but he wanted a collection to purchase candlesticks, and I having lest off using those brass rims (when Mr. Gar­rick changed the mode of lighting he stage with six branches that used formerly to be [...] downat the end of every act, which re­quired [Page 91]a nimble fingered candle snuffer) I promised my reverend father, the methodist, I would light his tabernacle, aye, and per­formed it too.

"TO TATE WILKINSON, Esq

"Dear Sir,

"As your engagements in public and mine run counter, I did not know when to wait on you as to a proper season; and therefore as you was so good and sympa­thising, to act from such a noble spirit of humanity to the distressed, as proposing to take a pwe in my chapel in Lowgate, I shall leave the four best pews to the generosity of the persons that engage; so whoever leads the way will be a pattern for the others. I verily think, without the least flattery, that your encouragement of such things will be such an honour to the stage, and bespeak the fame of the comedians, as will perpet­uate your name more than Alexander the greats. I shall be glad to know what place you fix on, and when I shall wait on you, and whether the candlesticks are come. May heaven lead you with all kind of bleslings for time and an unseen world.

From your humble and much obliged servant ROBT. RUTHERFORD.

Hull, Jan, 10, 1771.

[Page 92] "At times I have heard good discourses from Mr. Whitefield, delivered with ener­gy, feeling, and pathos; but then he had been really and truly an actor on the slage in the early part of his life; and as he liked tragedy, and found that a pair of squinting eyes (as may be seen by his print) did not move the young ladies' tender hearts, but produced laughter instead of tears; he d—d the stage, and ever after stuck to that text; but he often melted and squeezed to some purpose many a rich dowager, who felt the power of his feelings from their mu­tual sympathy. The low stuff of the preach­ers in general is not worth repeating; but to shew I have not often attended without sometimes being a good boy, I will begin with the second best performer in that line I ever saw, and give his harangue verbatin; and though but frothy stuff, it is much bet­ter, and more like reason than the damna­tion so teni [...]ly thundered out, too often in stage invective; so much so that were they not hardened by the samiliarity of their sire, brimstone and pitchsorks; if it thund [...]ed I should sear less if in a play [...] [...]han in the tabernacle, part cularly if near the preacher.

"Mr. Wesley about four years ago, in the fields at Leeds, for want of room for his [Page 93]congregation in his tabernacle, gave an ac­count of himself by informing us, that when he was at college he was particularly fond of devils pops (or cards) and said, that every Saturday he was one of a constant party at whist, not only for the afternoon, but also for the evening; he then mention­ed the names of several respectable gentle­men who were with him at college. But, continued he, the latter part of my time there I became acquainted with the Lord, I used to hold communication with him. On my first acquaintance, said Wesley, I used to talk with the Lord once a week, then every day, from that to twice a day, till at last the intimacy so increased, that he ap­pointed a meeting once in every four hours. He recollected, he said, the last Saturday he ever played at cards; that the rubber at whist was longer than he expected, and on observing the tediousness of the game, he pulled out his watch, when to his shame he found it was some minutes past eight, which was beyond the time he had appointed to meet the Lord: he thought the devil had certainly tempted him to stay beyond his hour, he therefore suddenly gave his cards to a gentleman near him to finish the game, and went to the place appointed, beseeching forgiveness for his crime, and resolved ne­ver [Page 94]to play with the devil's pops again. That resolution he had never broken; and what was more extraordinary, that his bro­ther and sister, though distant from Cam­bridge, experienced signs of grace on that same day, on that same hour, in the month of October. After the easy acquaintance he had made, the idea of which I think too solemn to declare and mention in the familiar manner those self elected people do; what must have become of all the tribes before us for the last, seventeen hundred years but damnation? how unfortunate that methodism did not start up through a trap-door many centuries ago! what a hypocritical led-by-the-nose world it would then have been!

"Mr. Wesley, after expatiating on the devil's pops, said, "Now, my dear friends! if you think there is no harm follows from playing at cards, why play at cards: if you think, my dear brethern, there is no harm in hunting a poor little hare and depriving it of life, why you may go a hunting without being guilty of sin: I do not say you will be d—d for that, provided in your consci­ence you do not think you are doing wrong. If you think there is no harm in playing with the devil's books, or going to an as­sembly, where you shall stay till two or three o'clock in the morning, and where they [Page 95]dance belly to belly and back to back, and put themselves in the most unseemly pos­tures; why if you think there is no harm in going to that assembly, you may go. "I am told," continued Wesley, "you have a wicked play-house in Leeds—I do not say you will be d—d for going to see a play, if you think there is no harm in seeing a play. But now, my dear brethren, let me call you to a recollection of those trisling matters; though you have heard me repeat that I do not pronounce damnation on my hearers for playing on the devil's pops, or for killing a harmless hare and depriving it of life—though I have not said the devil is with spreading arms expecting to receive you, but that you may go to an assembly, or even to the devil's house, without damnati­on; yet, my dear brethren, if instead of the devil's pops, the going a hunting, or to the dancing assembly, or to see a play, you can, like me, get acquainted and enter into con­versation and intimacy with the Lord, who will talk, who will hold converse with you here on earth—how can you prefer such va­nities of this foolish world to real bliss in this and the world to come? Here ends Mr. Wesley.

"The Rev. Mr. Whitefield (the first actor in the methodist walk) was of a con­trary [Page 96]cast entirely, and not without humour here and there. His dialect was very par­ticular; Lurd instead of Lord, Gud instead of God, as, O Lurd Gud. I remember a text of his was, May we all work the harder. "There was a poor woman, and she was a long time before she was converted: she was three score years and ten—yes she was; she was three score years and ten:—"Sir (says she to the good man that converted her) sir (says she) I am three score years and ten, I have been a long time about it; but sir (says she) I will work the harder; yes, sir (says she) I will work the harder!" And O! may you all like that dear good woman "work the harder." Then follow­ed a groan of applause; for he had, like Mr. Bayes, a selected number of his pit that un­derstood their cues, and was sure to applaud, and the rest of the house followed of course. Then Whitefield, looking round the rails of his little desk below—"What, you young ones! why you are some of you twelve, some fourteen, and some sixteen years of age, yet you do not think of going to hell? What?" exclaimed Whitefield, "twelve and fourteen years of age and not think of going to hell! O ye little brats you!" and at that instant the old woman groaned, and like sell Charybdis, murmured hoarse ap­plause; [Page 97]and Whitefield shook his head, and growled in his white whig exactly like my performance of squintum, as I exactly prac­tised it from the serious comical discourse I am now relating. Whitefield then proceed­ed thus, "You go to plays! and what do you see there! Why, if you will not tell me, I will tell you what you see there!—When you see the players on the stage, you see the devil's children grinning at you; and when you go to the play-house, I suppose you go in ruffles—I wonder whether St. Paul wore ruffles? No; there were no ruffles in those days." "I am told," con­tinued he archly, "that people say I bawl —well I allow it, I do bawl, and I will bawl—I will not be a velvet-mouthed preacher, I will not speak the word of Gud in a sleepy manner, like your church preach­ers —I'll tell you a story.

"The Archbishop of Canterbury in the year 1675, was acquainted with Mr. Butter­ton the player. One day the arch bishop of Canterbury said to Butterton the player, "pray inform me Mr. Butterton, what is the reason you actors on the stage can affect your congregations with speaking of things imaginary, as if they were real, while we in church speak of things real, which our congregations only receive [Page 98]as if they were imaginary?' "Why, my lord (says Butterton the player) the rea­son is very plain. We actors on the stage, speak of things imaginary, as if they were real, and you in the pulpit speak of things real, as if they were imaginary." "There­fore," added Whitefield, "I will bawl, I will not be a velvet-mouthed preacher." I leave the reader to judge on the good reasoning of methodism. I Cannot help noticing for the honour of the stage, that Mr. Whitefield could not have betrayed himself into a better story for its credit (his point­ing out an intimacy between the lord arch­bishop of Canterbury, and Mr. Butterton) and for the actor, he could not have given a more substantial and revered authority: and what a joke for Mr. Whitefield to pro­nounce damnation on players, when he cer­tainly avowed in his own opinion, that Mr. Butterton was, what all the world ever ac­knowledged him to be, a scholar and gen­tleman of honour; and Mr. Whitefield gave the players reasoning and exemplifica­tion, for his own mode of preaching. But hypocrisy, like the cloven foot, will some­times be espied.

"Some of the wild preachers of this kind, often remind me of Antonio in the merchant of Venice.

"Bell's edition bears this note on these lines. "A most excellent remark this; for daily experience proves, that some of the worst characters breathing, seek shelter under scriptural texts; by the misapplica­tion or misconstruction of which, also, op­posite sects uncharitably consign each other to eternal punishment,"

Page 163.—" Mr. Whitefield was be­yond compare; his manner was then uni­versally known.—Mr. Foote was struck by stepping in by chance, and once hearing Whitefield; the mixture of whose absurdi­ty, whim, consequence, and extravagance, pleased his fancy and entertained him high­ly, as Whitefield was that day dealing out damnation, fire and brimstone, as cheerfully as if they were so many blessings. What pity it is that our fears only, and not our reason, will bring conviction; but reason, handled by unaffected pure piety and reli­gion, would be a day of woe to methodism, and lessen their audiences in many taberna­cles, where they are certain to lament [Page 100]preaching to nobody, though at the same time wedged to the outer doors, and on the Sunday exclaiming at the full crowded the­atres, which have probably been almost de­serted. But Mr. Foote was only a spy at Whitefield's academy, while I had been a zealot for some seasons before my encoun­ter at Covent Garden with Mr. Foote. My attendance had been constant with my friend Shuter, and as he was actually one of the new-born, and paid large sums to White­field, I was always permitted to stay with him, for he really was bewildered in his brain, more by wishing to acquire imagina­ry grace, than by all his drinking; and whenever he was warm with the bottle, and with only a friend or two, like Maw-worm he could not mind his shop, because he thought it was a sin, and wished to go a preaching; for shuter, like Maw-worm, be­lieved he had a call. I have gone with Shuter at six in the morning of a Sunday to Tottenham Court Road, then before ten to Mr. Wesley's in Long Acre, at eleven again to Tottenham Court Road tabernacle, dined near Bedlam in Moorfields (a very proper place for us both) with a party of the holy ones, went at three to Mr. Wesley's theatre there (the tabernacle I mean) from that to Whitefield's in Moorfields till eight, and [Page 101]then shut up to commune with the family compact. Now with all this practice and attention, and with my natural talents, I must have been a blockhead indeed not to have gleaned some good things (and doubt­less Mr. Whitefield was at times a good preacher, and truly excellent). I therefore really exhibited and obtained a much stronger likeness as Dr. Squintum, than Mr. Foote did. The week before my Covent Garden exhibition, I met my friend Shuter at the tabernacle; a great coolness had con­tinued for some time, as we had not spoke to or even looked at each other since the breach between us in the year 1758; but as we were met together in a place of chari­ty and forgiveness to all who subscribed to the dictator, we became very sociable, and before the conclusion of Whitefield's lec­ture were perfectly reconciled. We ad­journed to the Rose, and by three the next morning were sworn friends, and contunued so till death called him away. Indeed he was above cleven years older than me, and would have been sixty three had he lived to this time. Ned Shuter was a lively, spirit­ed shrewd companion; superior natural whim and humour surely never inhabited a human breast, for what he said and did was all his own, as it was with difficulty he could [Page 102]read the parts he had to play, and could not write at all; he had attained to sign an or­der, but no more. Nature could not have bestowed her gifts to greater advantage than on poor Ned, as what she gave he made shine not only conspicuously but brilliant­ly, and that to the delight of all who knew him on or off the stage—he might be truly dubbed "The Child of Nature:"—He was no man's enemy but his own. Peace, rest, and happiness. I hope he now pessesses—for the poor, the friendless, and the stranger he often comforted; and when sometimes re­duced by his follies, he never could see a real object in misery, and resist giving at least half he was worth to his distressed fel­low creature."

It is singular enough that about this time, although I could not write, yet I composed several songs, one of which was sold for a guinea; some were given to the Bristol printers, who printed them and the ballad-fingers sung them about the streets; on which occasions I was as proud as though I, had composed an opera. My friend Mr. Jones was my secretary, who before I came to live with him had not the least relish for books, and I had only read a few enthusi­astic authors, together with Pomfret's poems, this last I could almost repeat by memory; [Page 103]however I made the most of my little stock of literature, and strongly recommended the purchasing of books to Mr. Jones. But so ignorant were we on the subject, that nei­ther of us knew what books were fit for our perusul, nor what to enquire for, as we had scarce ever heard or seen even any title pa­ges, except a few of the religious sort, which at that time we had no relish for. So that we were at a loss how to increase our small stock of science. And here I cannot help thinking that had fortune thrown proper books in our way, we should have imbibed a just taste for literature, and soon made some tolerable progress; but such was our obscurity, that it was next to impossible for us ever to emerge from it.

As we could not tell what to ask for, we were ashamed to go into the booksellers shops; and I assure you, my friend, that there are thousands now in England in the very same situation: many, very many have come to my shop, who have discovered an enquiring mind, but were totally at a loss what to ask for, and who had no friend to direct them.

One day as my friend Jones and I were strolling about the fair that is annually held in and near St. James's church yard, we saw a stall of books, and in looking over the title pages, I met with Hobbes's translation of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey. I had some­how or other heard that Homer was a great poet, but unfortunately I had never heard of Pope's translation of him, so we very eager­ly purchased that by Hobbes. At this stall I also purchased Walker's poetical paraphrase of Epictetus's morals; and home we went, perfectly well pleased with our bargains.

We that evening began with Hobbes's Homer; but found it very difficult for us to read, owing to the obscurity of the trans­lation, which together with the different language, and want of poetical merit in the translator, somewhat disappointed us: how­ever we had from time to time many a hard puzzling hour with him.

But as to Walker's Epictetus, although that had not much poetical merit, yet it was very easy to be read, and as easily [...]er­stood. The principles of the sloics charmed me so much, that I made the book my com­panior [Page 105]wherever I went, and read it over and over in raptures, thinking that my mind was secured against all the smiles or frowns of fortune.

I now grew weary of dissipating my time, and began to think of employing my spare hours in something more satisfactory. For want of something else to do, I went one evening to hear Mr. John Wesley preach in Broadmead, and being completely tired of the way of life that I had lived (more or less) ever since I had been out of my ap­prenticeship, and happening to have no other pursuit or hobby-horse, there was a kind of vacuity in my mind; in this state I was very susceptible of any impressions, so that when I came to hear Mr. Wesley, my old fanatical notions returned full upon me, and I was once more carried away by the tide of enthusiasm.

My friend Mr. Jones soon saw with grief and indignation the wonderful alteration in me; who, from a gay, volatile, dissipated young fellow, was at once metamorphosed into a dull, moping, praying, psalm-singing fanatic, continually reprehending all about me for their harmless mirth and gaity.

[Page 106] Nothing is more common than to see mankind run from one extreme to another: which was my case once more.

About this time we left our habitation in Queen-street and took lodgings of Mr. Jones's mother, on St. Philip's Plain, where lived a brother of Mr. Jones, who was about seventeen years of age. Soon after we had removed to this place, the brother, whose name was Richard Jones, was permitted to work in the same room with my friend and me. They had also a sister about twenty years of age, who frequently joined our company.

Our room over-looked the church-yard, which contributed to increase my gloomy ideas; and I had so much of spiritual quix­otism in me, that I soon began to think that it was not enough for me to save my own soul, but I ought in conscience to attempt the conversion of my companions, who (I really believed) were in the high road to hell, and every moment liable to eternal damnation. Of this charitable disposition are almost all the methodists; who, as Hu­dibras says.

The frequency of newly-opened graves, [Page 107]which we saw from our windows, furnished me with opportunities for descanting on the uncertainty of life and all sublunary enjoy­ments; I assured them that nothing deserved attention but what related to our everlasting state, and that they might, on their repen­tance, receive in one moment the pardon of all their sins, have a foretaste of the joys of heaven, and know that their names were en­rolled in the book of life. I farther pro­tested that they had no time to lose; that they all stood on the very verge of hell, and the breaking-brink of eternal torments; with a great deal more of such edifying stuff.

The youngest brother soon became a con­vert; and Miss Betsey was born again soon after. But I had a tight job to convert my friend John; he held out, and often cursed me heartily, and sung profane songs all day long.

But about four or sive weeks after my re-conversion. John was also converted, and became a favourite of heaven, so that we considered ourselves as a holy commu­nity.

[Page 108] A laughable affair happened during my residence here. A captain of a ship one day brought a parrot as a present to a family, the mistress of which being a methodist, hap­pened to have one of the preachers call in just as the dinner was putting on the table, so that the captain and the preacher were both asked to stay. As soon as the table was covered, the preacher began a long grace, in the midst of which Poll, who had been put in a corner of the room, cried out, "D—n your eyes, tip us none of your jaw". This, with the immoderate laughter of the captain, entirely disconcerted the pious chaplain; at last he began his grace again, but he had not got to the end before Poll again interrupted him with "You d—d canting son of a b—h". By the above it appeared that the captain had tutored Poll on purpose to have some fun in this canting family; however, the good lady of the house made it a point of conscience to have Polly converted, but found it utterly impossible to effect that great change in the methodisti­cal way, that is, instan [...]anccusly, as after she had scolded her six months for speaking bad words, and had actually taught her a part of the Lord's prayer, yet Poll would not entirely leave off her sea language, so that it often happened while the good lady [Page 109]was teaching her to pray, Poll would out with, "D—n your eyes, tumble up, you lubbers"; and even after she had preached to her several years, she would not venture to say that Poll was in a state of grace; but be that as it will, Poll obtained the name of Methodist, being called by the neighbours, the Methodist Parrot.

I must inform you also that the poor preacher abovementioned was but just come out of Wales, and understood English but very imperfectly, and in the course of his sermon one day he had forgot the English for the word lamb, and after hammering a good while about it, he out with "Goddy­mighty's little Mutton, that took away the sins of the world," which caused a good deal of diversion among the ungodly.

LETTER XIV.

MR. John Jones and myself were now greater friends than ever, so that one would on no account stir out of the house without the other.

Mr. Jones had the advantage of me in temporals, he could get more money, than I could; but as to grace, and spiritual gists, I had much the advantage of all our com­munity; so that I was their spiritual direct­or, and if they thought that any of their ac­quaintance held any opinions that were not quite found and orthodox, such were intro­duced to me, in order that I might convince them of their errors. In sact, I was looked upon as an apostle, so that whatever I as­serted was received as pure gospel; nor was any thing undertaken without my advice.

We all worked very hard, particularly Mr. John Jones and me, in order to get mo­ [...]ley to purchase books; and for some months every shilling we could spare [...]as laid out at old book shops, s [...]lls, &c. inso­much [Page 111]that in a short time we had what we called a very good library. This choice collection consisted of Polhil on precious Faith; Polhil on the Deerces; Shepherd's sound Believer; Bunyan's Pilgrim's Pro­gress; Bunyan's good news for the vilest of Sinners; his Heavenly Footman; his Grace abounding to the chief of Sinners; his Life and Death of Mr. Badman; his Holy War in the town of Mansoul; Her­vey's Meditation; Hervey's Dialogues; Rogers' Seven Holps to Heaven; Hall's Jacob's Ladder; Divine Breathings of a Devout Soul; Adams on the second epis­tle of Peter; Adams Sermons on the black Devil, the white Devil, &c. &c. Collings's Divine Cordial for the Soul; Pearse's Soul's Espousal to Christ; Easkine's Gospel Sonnets; the Dea [...]h of Abel; The Faith of God's Elect; Manton on the epistle of St. James; Pamble's works; Baxter's Shove for a heavy-arsed Christian; his call to the Unconverted; Mary Magdalen's Funeral Tears; Mrs. Moore's evidences for Heaven; Mead's almost a Christian; The Sure Guide to Heaven; Brooks on Assurance; God's Revenge against Murder; Brooks's Heaven upon Earth; The Pathway to Hea­ven; Wilcox's Guide to eternal Glory; Derham's Unsearchable Riches of Christ; [Page 112]his Exposition of Revelations; Alleine's Sure Guide to Heaven; The Sincere Con­vert; Watson's Heaven taken by Storm; Heaven's Vengeance; Wall's None but Christ; Aristoiles Masterpiece; Coles on God's Sovereignty; Charnock on Provi­dence; Young's Short and Sure Guide to Salvation; Wesley's Sormons, Journals, Tracts, &c. and others of the same descrip­tion.

We had indeed a few of a better sort, as Gay's Fables; Pomfret's Poems; Milton's Paradise Lost; besides Hobbes's Homer, and Walker's Epictetus, mentioned in my last letter.

But what we wanted in judgment in choosing our library, we made up in appli­cation; so anxious were we to read a great deal, that we allowed ourselves but about three hours sleep in twenty-four, and for some months together we never were all in bed at the same time (Sunday nights ex­cepted). But least we should oversleep the time allowed, one of us sat up to work until the time appointed for the others to rise, and when all were up, my friend John and your humble servant, took it by turns to read aloud to the rest, while they were at their work.

But this mad scheme of ours had nearly [Page 113]been attended with very serious consequen­ces. One night it being my turn to watch, I removed to the sire side, to read some par­ticular passage, and the candlestick which we worked by not being convenient to move about, and there being no other at that time in the room, I set up the candle against the handle of a pewter pot, and was so extreme­ly heavy (owing to much watchfulness) that I sell fast asleep and had like never to have awaked again; for the candle burned down to the handle of the pot, melted it off, and then fell on the chair on which it stood; so that Mr. Jones sound me in the morning, fast asleep, and part of the chair consumed; which alarmed us all very much, and made us more cautious.

But still we continued our plan of living, so that we made a napid progress in what we called spiritual and divine knowledge; and were soon masters of the various arguments made use of by most polemical divines, &c.

And the better to g [...]rd my pupils from what I called false do [...]rines, I used often to engage them in various controversies, in which I sometimes took one side of the question, sometimes the other, in order, to make them well versed in controversy, and acquainted with the strength of their adver­saries. [Page 114]So that I was, by turns, a Calvinist, an Arminian, an Arien, a Socinian, a Deist, and even an Atheist. And after they had said all they could to confute me, I would point out where they had failed, and added such arguments as I was master of, and in general we were all satisfied. But when we happened to have any doubts, we had re­course to the bible and commentators of our own side of the question, and I assure you, my dear friend, this was a very fine hobby-horse; which, like Aaron's serpent, swallowed up all the other hobby-horses.

LETTER XV.

IN the course [...]o [...] my reading, I learn that there had been various sects of philosophers amongst the G [...]eks, Romaus, &c. and I well remembered the names of the most eminent of them. At an [Page 115]old book shop, I purchased Plato on the immortality of the soul, Plutarch's Morals, Seneca's Morals, Epicurus's Morals, the Morals of Confucius the Chinese Philoso­pher, and a few others. I now can scarce help thinking that I received more real be­nefit from reading and studying them and Epictetus, than from all other books that I had read before, or have ever read since that time.

I was but about twenty-two years of age, when I first began to read those fine moral productions; and I assure you, my friend, that they made a very deep and lasting im­pression on my mind. By reading them, I was taught to bear the unavoidable evils at­tending humanity, and to supply all my wants by contracting or restraining my de­fires.

It is now twenty-three years since I first perused them; during which time I do not recollect that I have ever felt one anxious painsul wish to get money, estates, or any way to better my conditions [...]

[Page 116] And yet I have never since that time let slip any fair opportunity of doing it. So that all I mean is, that I have not been over so­licitous to obtain any thing I did not pos­sess; but could at all times say, with St. Paul, that I have learned to be contented in all situations, although at times they have been very gloomy indeed. Dryden says,

And in another place he says,

The pleasures of eating and drinking I entirely despised, and for some time carried this disposition to an extreme. The account of Epicurus living in his garden, at the ex­pence of about a halfpenny per day, and that when he added a little cheese to his bread on particular occasions, he considered it as a luxury, silled me with raptures. From that moment I began to live on bread and tea, and for a considerable time did not partake of any other viands, but in those I indulged myself three or four times a day. My rea­sons for living in this abstemious manner were in order to save money to purchase [Page 117]books, to wean myself from the gross plea­sures of eating, drinking, &c. and to purge my mind, and make it more susceptible of intellectual pleasures. And here I cannot help remarking, that the term Epicure when applied to one who makes the pleasures of the table his chief good casts an unjust re­flection on Ep [...]curus, and conveys a wrong idea of that contemplative and very abstemi­ous philosopher: for although he asserted that pleasure was the chief or supreme good, yet he also as strongly asserted, that it was the tranquility of the mind, and intellectual pleasure, that he so extolled and recom­mended.

I continued the above self-denying life until I left Bristol, which was, on Whitsun­day in 1769. I had for some time before been pointing out to my friend John Jones some of the pleasures and advantages of tra­velling, so that I easily prevailed on him to accompany me towards the west of England; and in the evening we arrived at Bridgowa­ter, where Mr. Jones got work [...]. He was employed by Mr. Cash, with whom be con­tinued [Page 118]near twelve months, and in the end married Mr. Cash's daughter, a very pretty and very amiable little woman, with some fortune. When my friend was offered work by Mr. Cash, I prevailed on him to accept of it, assuring him that I had no doubt of my being able to get work at Taunton: but in that I was disappointed, nor could I get a constant seat of work until I came to Ex­eter, and of that place I was soon tired; but being informed that a Mr. John Taylor of Kingsbridge (forty miles below Exeter) wanted such a hand, I went down, and was gladly received by Mr. Taylor, whose name inspires me with gratitude, as he never treat­ed me as a journeyman, but made me his companion: Nor was any part of my time ever spent in a more agreeable pleasing manner than that which I passed in this re­tired place, or I believe more profitable to a master. I was the first man he ever had that was able to make stuff and silk shoes, and it being also known that I came from Bristol, this had great weight with the coun­try ladies, and procured my master custom­ers, who generally sent for me to take mea­sure of their seet, and I was looked upon by all to be the best workman in the town, although I had not been brought up to stuff work, nor had ever entirely made one stuff [Page 119]or silk shoe before. Nor should I have presumed to proclaim myself a stuff-man, had there been any such workmen in the place; but as there were none, I boldly ventured, and succeeded very well; nor did any one in the town ever know that it was my first attempt in that branch.

During the time that I lived here, I as usual was obliged to employ one or another of my acquaintance to write my letters for me; this procured me much praise among the young men as a good editor of letters; (I need not inform you that they were not good judges). My master said to me one day, he was surprised that I did not learn to write my own letters; and added, that he was sure that I could learn to do it in a very short time. The thought pleased me much, and without any delay I set about it, by tak­ing up any pieces of paper that had writing on them, and imitating the letters as well as I could. I employed my leisure hours in this way for near two months, after which time I wrote my own letters, in a bad hand you may be sure; but it was plain and easy to read, which was all I cared for: nor to the present moment can I write much bet­ter, as I never would have any person to teach me, nor was I ever possessed of pa­tience enough to employ time sufficient to [Page 120]learn to write well; and yet as soon as I was able to subscribe, I wrote verses on some trisle or other every day for years to­gether.

But I always wrote as fast as I could, without endeavouring to write well, and that this is my present practice I need not inform you.

I came to this place in but a weak state of body, however the healthy situation of the town, together with bathing in the salt water, soon restored me to perfect health. I passed thirteen months here in a very hap­py manner: but the wages for work being very low, and as I had spent much time in writing hymns to every song tune that I knew, besides a number of love verses, let­ters, &c. I was very poor; and to com­plete all, I began to keep a deal of company, in which I gave a loose to my natural gal­ety of disposition, much more than was con­sistent with the grave, sedate ideas which I had sormed of a religious character; all which made me resolve to leave Kings­bridge, which I did in 1770.

I [...] as for as Exeter the first day, where I wo [...]ed about a fortnight, and say­ed sufficient to carry me to Bridgewater, where I worked two or three weeks more. Before I arrived there Mr. John Jones had [Page 121]gone back to reside at Bristol, but as soon as he heard of my being in Bridgewater, he and his brother Richard sent me an invita­tion to come to Bristol again and live with them. Finding that I did not immediately comply, they both came to Bridgewater, and declared their intentions of not returning to Bristol without me; so that after a day or two I yielded to their solicitations, and again lived very comfortably with them, their mother and sister.

I think it was about this period, that I went several times to the tabernacle, and heard Mr. George Whitefield; and of all the preachers that ever I attended, never did I meet with one that had such a perfect command over the passions of his audience. In every sermon that I heard him preach, he would sometimes make them ready to burst with laughter, and the next moment drown them in tears; indeed it was scarce possible for the most guarded to escape the effect.

In one of my excursions I passed many agreeable hours with the late Mr. La Bute, at Cambridge, who was well known, he having taught French in that university up­wards of forty years. He informed me that near forty years since, Mr. Whitefield hav­ing advertised himself to preach at Gog-Ma­gog hill, many thousand people collected together from many miles round. While he was preaching he was clevated on the highest ground, and his audience stood all round on the declivity; during his sermon, a young country-woman, who had come some miles to hear him, and waited several hours, being very faint, owing to the vio­lent heat of the sun, the breaths of the mul­titude, as well as the want of refreshment; and it is very likely much agitated in her mind by the extraordinary doctrines of the preacher, she fell backwards, just under the orator, and there lay kicking up her heels. On seeing the poor girl lie in a kind of con­vulsion, some of the company moved to as­sist her, and the women began to draw down her apron and petticoats over her seet; but Mr. Whitefield cried out, "Let her alone! let her alone! A glorious sight! a glorious [Page 123]sight!" No doubt the holy man meant that it was a glorious sight to see a sinner fall before the power of the word; but the young college bucks and wits construed his meaning differently, and put the audience into such immoderate sits of laughter, that even Mr. Whitfield's utmost efforts were not able to restore their gravity, but he was obliged to dismiss his congregation abruptly.

For a long time after this happened, the Cantabs as they reeled homewards in the night time, disturbed the sober inhabitants, by loudly exclaiming, "A glorious sight! A glorious sight! as Doctor Squintum says."

LETTER XVI.

I MUST now request you to go back with me a sew years, as I have not yet made you acquainted with my principal amours. I was about seventeen years of age when an adventure discovered, that although I was so very spiritual, as I before informed you, I was notwithstanding susceptible of another kind of impression.

Being at farmer Gamlin's, at Charlton, four miles from Taunton, to hear a method­ist sermon, I fell desperately in love with the farmer's handsome dairy-maid.

[Page 125] At that time I abounded [...] spiritual gifts, which induced this honest ru [...] maid to be very kind to me, and to walk several fields with me in my road back to Taunton, talk­ing all the way of her spiritual distress and godly concerns; while I poured heavenly comfort into her soul, and talked so long of divine love, until I found that my affection for her was not altogether of that spiritual nature. And yet,

After this you may be sure that I did not let slip any opportunity of hearing sermons at farmer Gamlin's; and I generally pre­vailed with Nancy Smith; my charming spi­ritual dairy-maid, to accompany me part of the way home, and at every gate I accompa­nied my spiritual advice with a kiss.

[Page 126] But alas! these comfortable Sunday walks were soon at an end; as my charming Nan­cy Smith for some reason or other (I have forgot what) left her place, and went to live as dairy-maid with a farmer in the marsh country, between Bridgewater and Bristol, seventeen miles from Taunton; so that I did not see her for near two years afterwards, during which time I gave spiritual advice to another holy sister, whose name was Han­nah Allen.

I prevailed on this lovely maid to attend the methodist preaching at five o'clock on Monday mornings, and we often met at three or four; so that we had an hour or two to spend in walking and conversation on spiritual affairs. Had you seen and heard us on the cold frosty mornings, it would have put you in mind of Milton's Devils, whom he represents as at times starving with cold:

But I assure you, my friend, that we were sometimes like the Galatians of old; we began in the spirit, and ended in the flesh.

[Page 127] With this dear girl I spent all my leisure time, for two or three years; so that we en­joyed together hundreds of happy and I can truly add, innocent hours.

But still I never could entirely forget my charming innocent dairy-maid. In fact I had love enough for both, to have taken either for better for worse; but my being an apprentice, prevented me from marrying at that time.

It is true I had the greatest love for Nan­cy Smith; but Hannah Allen had the ad­vantage of Nancy, as I could see Hannah almost every day, and Nancy only once or twice in about three years. However I at last fell out with Hannah (on what occasion I cannot recollect) and I sent Nancy a let­ter, which made up matters with her; for, like Sterne, I was "always in love with one goddess or other;" and soon after that, she came to live for a little time at her father's house at Petherton near Bridgewater, seven miles from Taunton. This happened dur­ing [Page 128]the election at Taunton, when I was changed from a strict methodist to a rake; and although the wedding ring was pur­chased, and we were to have been married in a few days, yet the marriage was put off on account of my dissipated character, so that I soon after set off for Bristol, as I be­fore informed you: nor did I see her after that, until my return from Kingsbridge, when I saw her several times prior to my setting off for Bristol with my friend John Jones, and his brother Richard.

LETTER XVII.

I HAD not long re­sided a second time with my good Bristol friends, before I [...]enewed my correspon­dence with my old sweetheart Nancy Smith. I informed her that my attachment to books together with travelling from place to place, and also my total disregard for money, had prevented me from saving any; and that while I remained in a single unsettled state, I was never likely to accumulate it. I also pressed her very much to come to Bristol to be married, which she soon complied with: and married we were, at St. Peter's church, towards the end of the year 1770; near seven years after my first making love to her.

We kept our wedding at the house of my friends the Messrs. Jones's, and at bed-time retired to ready-furnished lodgings, which we had before provided, at half-a-crown per week. Our finances were but just sufficient to pay the expences of the day, for the next morning in searching our pockets (which we did not do in a careless manner) we disco­vered that we had but one halfpenny to be­gin the world with. It is true we had laid in eatables sufficient for a day or two, in which time we knew we could by our work procure more, which we very cheerfully set about, singing together the following strains of Dr. Cotton:

The above, and the following ode by Mr. Fitzgeral, did we scores of times repeat even with raptures!

After having worked on stuff work in the country, I could not bear the idea of returning to the leather branch; so that I attempted and obtained a seat of stuff in Bristol. But better work being required there than in Kingsbridge, &c. I was oblig­ed to take so much care to please my master, that at first I could not get more than nine [Page 132]shillings a week, and my wife could get but very little, as she was learning to bind stuff shoes, and had never been much used to her needle; so that what with the expence of ready furnished lodging, fire, candles, &c. we had but little left for purchasing provi­sions.

To increase our straits, my old friend be­ing somewhat displeased at our leaving him and his relations, took an early oppor­tunity to tell me that I was indebted to him near forty shillings, of two years standing. I was not convinced of the justice of the claim, but to avoid dispute, I paid him in a­bout two months, during nearly the whole of which time it was extremely severe weather, and yet we made four shillings and sixpence per week pay for the whole of what we con­sumed in eating and drinking. Strong beer we had none, nor any other liquor (the pure element excepted) and instead of tea, or rather coffee, we toasted a piece of bread; at other times we fried some wheat, which when boiled in water made a tolerable sub­stitute for coffee; and as to animal food, we made use of but little, and that little we boiled and made broth of.

During the whole of this time we never once wished for any thing that we had not got, but were quite contented, and wish a [Page 133]good grace, in reality made a virtue of ne­cessity. We

LETTER XVIII.

IN a few days after we had paid the last five shillings of the debt claimed by my friend Mr. Jones, we were both together taken so ill as to be confined to our bed, but the good woman of the house, our landlady, came to our room and did a sew trifles for us. She seemed very [Page 134]much alarmed at our situation, or rather for her own, I suppose, as thinking we might in some measure become burthensome to her. We had in cash two shillings and nine­pence, half a crown of which we had care­fully locked up in a box, to be saved for a resource on any extraordinary emergence. This money supported us two or three days, in which time I recovered without the help of medicine; but my wife continued ill near six months, and was confined to her bed the greatest part of her time; which ill­ness may very easily be accounted for.

Before she came to Bristol, she had ever been used to a very active life, and had al­ways lived in the country, so that in coming to dwell in a populous city, she had ex­changed much exercise and good air for a sedentary life and very bad air; and this I presume was the cause of all her illness from time to time, which at length, as unfortu­nately as effectually undermined [...]er con­stitution. During her first six months illness I lived many days solely on water gruel; for as I could not afford to pay a nurse, much of my time was taken up in attend­ance on her, and most of my money expend­ed in procuring medicines, together with such trifles as she could eat and drink. But what added extremely to my calamity was [Page 135]the being within the hearing of her groans, which were caused by the excruc [...]ating pains in her head, which for months together de­fied the power of medicine.

It is impossible for words to describe the keenness of my sensations during this long term; yet as to myself, my poverty and be­ing obliged to live upon water-gruel gave me not the least uneasiness.

But the necessity of being continually in the sight and hearing of a beloved object, a young, charming, handsome, innocent wife,

How I supported this long dreary scene, I know not; the bare recollection of which is exceedingly painful, even at this distance of time. At last, when every thing that seem­ed [Page 136]to promise relief had been ried in vain, some old woman recommended Cephalic snuff. I own I had not much faith in it; however I procured it, and in a short time after she was much relieved from the into­lerable pain in her head, but yet continued in a very bad state of health; her constitu­tion having suffered such a dreadful shock, I thought that no means could be used so likely to restore it, as a removal to her na­tive air. Accordingly I left my seat of work at Bristol, and returned with her to Taun­ton, which is about seven miles from Peth­erton, her native place. But in Taunton I could not procure so much work as I could do; so that as soon at I thought she could bear the air of Bristol, we returned thither, where she soon relapsed, and we again went back to Taunton. This removing to Taun­ton was repeated about five times in little more than two years and a half.

But at last, finding that she had long fits of illness at Taunton also, as well as at Bris­tol, with a view of having a better price for my work I resolved to visit London; and as I had not money sufficient to hear the ex­pences of both to town, I left her all the money I could spare, and took a place on the outside of the stage coach, and the se­cond day arrived in the metropolis, in Au­gust [Page 137]1773, with two shillings and sixpence in my pocket; and recollecting the address of an old townsman, who was also a spiritu­al brother.

This holy brother was also a journeyman shoe maker, who had arrived at the summit of his expectations, being able to keep a house over his head (as he chose to express himself) that is by letting nearly the whole of it out in lodgings, he was enabled to pay the rent. This house was in White-cross­street, which I found out the morning after my arrival, where I procured a lodging, and Mr. Heath, in Fore-street, supplied me with plenty of work.

LETTER XIX.

AT this time I was as visionary and superstitious as ever I had been at any preceding period, for although I had read some sensible books, and had thereby acquired a few rational ideas, yet having had a methodistical wife for near three years, and my keeping methodistical company, together with the gloomy notions which in spite of reason and philosophy I had imbibed during the frequent, long, and indeed almost constant illness of my wife, the consequence was, that those few rational or liberal ideas which I had before treasured up, were at my coming to London in a dor­mant state, or borne down by the torrent of enthusiastic whims, and fanatical chimeras.

[Page 139] So that I soon procured a lodging and work, my next enquiry was for Mr. Wesley's Gospel-shops: and on producing my class and band tickets from Taunton, I was put into a class, and a week or two after admitted into a band.

But it was several weeks before I could firmly resolve to continue in London; as I really was struck with horror for the fate of it; more particularly on Sundays, as I found so few went to church, and so many were walking and riding about for pleasure, and the lower class getting drunk, quarrelling, fighting, working, buying, selling, &c. I had seen so much of the same kind in Bris­tol that I often wondered how God permit­ted it to stand; but London I found infi­nitely worse, and seriously trembled for fear the measure of iniquity was quite full, and that every hour would be its last. Howe­ver I at length concluded, that if London was a second Sodom, I was a second Lot; and these comfortable ideas reconciled me to the thought of living in it. Besides, some of Mr. Wesley's people gave me great com­fort by assuring me, that "the Lord had much people in this city:" which I soon dis­covered to be true, as I got acquainted with many of those righteous chosen saints, who modestly arrogate to themselves that they [Page 140]are the peculiar favourites of heaven, and consequently that any place they reside in must be safe.

In a month I saved money sufficient to bring up my wife, and she had a pretty to­lerable state of health; of my master I ob­tained some stuff-shoes for her to bind and nearly as much as she could do. Having now plenty of work and higher wages, we were tolerably easy in our circumstances, more so than we ever bad been, so that we soon procured a few clothes. My wife had all her life before done very well with a su­perfine broad cloth cloak, but now I pre­vailed on her to have one of silk.

Until this winter I had never found out that I wanted a great coat, but now I made that important discovery; and my landlord shewed me one made of a coarse kind of Bath coating, which he purchased new at a shop in Rosemary-lane for ten shillings and six pence; so that the next half guinea I had to spare, away I went to Rosemary-lane (and to my great surprise) was hauled into a shop by a fellow who was walking up and down before the door of a slopseller, where I was soon fitted with a great coat of the same fort as that of my landlord. I asked the price; but how great was my astonish­ment, when the honest slop-man told me, [Page 141]that he was so taken with my clean, honest, industrious looks, that he would let me have it cheaper than he would his own bro­ther, so in one word he would oblige me with it for five and twenty shillings, which was the very money that it cost him. On hearing this I crossed the shop in a trice, in order to set off home again, but the door had a sastening to it beyond by comprehen­sion, nor would the good man let me out before I had made him an offer. I told him I had so little money about me that I could not offer any thing, and again desired that he would let me out. But he persisted and at last I told him that my landlord had informed me that he had purchased such another coat for ten shillings and six pence; on which he began to give himself airs, and assured me that however some people came by their goods, that for his part, he always paid for his. I heartily wished myself out of the shop, but in vain; as he seemed de­termined not to part with me until I had made some offer. I then told him that I had but ten shillings and six pence, and of course could not offer him any more than I had got. I now expected more abuse from him, but instead of that the patient good man told me, that as he perhaps might get something by me another time, I should have the coat for [Page 142]my half guinea, although it was worth more than double the money.

About the end of November I received an account of the death of my grandfather; and was also informed that he had left a will in favour of my grandmother-in-law's rela­tions, who became possessed of all his effects, except a small freehold estate, which he left to my youngest brother, because he happen­ed to be called George (which was the name of my grandfather) and ten pounds a piece to each of his other grand-children.

So totally unacquainted was I with the modes of transacting business, that I could not point out any method of having my ten pounds sent up to London, at least no mode that the executor of the will would approve of; it being such-a prodigious sum, that the greatest caution was used on both sides, so that it cost me about half the money in going down for it, and in returning to town again. This was in extremely hard frosty weather (I think some time in December) and being on the outside of a stage-coach, I was so very cold, that when I came to the inn where the passengers dined, I went directly to the fire, which struck the cold inward, so that I had but a very narrow escape from death. This happened in going down. In returning back to town I had other misfortunes to encoun­ter. [Page 143]The cold weather still coutinuing, I thought the basket warmer than the roof, and about six miles from Salisbury, I went back into the basket. But on getting out of it, in the inn yard at Salisbury, I heard some money jingle, and on searching my pockets, I discovered that I had lost abou [...] sixteen shillings, two or three of which I found in the basket, the rest had fallen through on the road; and no doubt the whole of what I had left of my ten pounds would have gone the same way, had I not (for fear of highway­men) sewed it up in my clothes. The loss of my silver I bore with the temper of a stoic, and like Fpictetus reasoned, that I could not have lost it, if I had not first had it; and that as I had lost it, why it was all the same as though it had never been in my possession.

But a more dreadful misfortune befel me the next morning; the extreme severe wea­ther still continuing, in order to keep me from dying with cold, I drank some purl and gin, which (not being used to drink any thing strong) made me so drunk, that the conchman put me inside the carriage for fear I should sall off the roof. I there met with some of the jovial sort, who had also drank to keep out the cold, so that I sound them in high glee; being asked to sing them a song, I immediately complied, and forget­ting [Page 144]that I was one of the holy brethren, I sung song for song with the merriest of them; only several times between the acts, I turned up the whites of my eyes, and uttered a few ejaculations, as "Lord forgive me!" "O Christ! What am I doing?" and a few more of the same pious sort. However af­ter eating a good dinner, and refraining from liquor, I became nearly sober, and by the time I arrived in town quite so; though in a terrible agitation of mind, by reflecting on what I had done, and was so ashamed of the affair, that I concealed it from my wife, that I might not grieve her righteous soul with the knowledge of so dreadful a fall: so that she with great pleasure ripped open the places in my clothes, which contained my treasure, and with an heart full of grati­tude, piously thanked providence for af­fording us such a supply, and hoped that the Lord would enable us to make a good use of it.

LETTER XX.

WITH the re­mainder of the money we purchased house hold goods, but as we then had not suffici­ent to furnish a room, we worked hard, and lived still harder, so that in a short time we had a room furnished with our own goods; and I believe that it is not possible for you to imagine with what pleasure and satisfacti­on we looked round the room and surveyed our property: I believe that Alexander the Great never reflected on his immense acquisitions with half the heart-felt enjoy­ment which we experienced on this capital attainment.

After our room was furnished, as we still enjoyed a better state of health than we did at Bristol and Taunton, and had also more work and higher wages, we often added something or other to our stock of wearing apparel. Nor did I forget the old-book shops: but frequently added an old book to my small collection, and I really have often purchased books with the money that [Page 146]should have been expended in purchasing something to eat; a striking instance of which follows: At the time we were purchasing houshold goods, we kept ourselves very short of mo­ney, and on Christmas-eve we had but half a crown left to buy a Christmas dinner. My wife desired that I would go to market, and purchase this festival dinner, and off I set for that purpose; but in the way I saw an old-book shop, and I could not resist the temptation of going in; intending only to expend sixpence or ninepence out of my half-crown. But I stumbled upon Young's Night Thoughts—down went my half-crown —and I hastened home, vastly delighted with the acquisition. When my wise asked me where was our Christmas dinner? I told her it was in my pocket.—"In your pock­et (said she) that is a strange place. How could you think of stuffing a joint of meat into your pocket?" I assured her that it would take no harm. But as I was in no haste to take it out, she began to be more particular, and enquired what I had got, &c. On which I began to harrangue on the superiority of intellectual pleasures over sensual gratifications, and observed that the brute creation enjoyed the latter in a much higher degree than man. And that a man, [Page 147]that was not possessed of intellectual enjoy­ments was but a two-legged brute.

I was proceeding in this strain: "And so (said she) instead of buying a dinner, I sup­pose you have, as you have done before, been buying books with the money?" I then confessed I had bought Young's Night Thoughts: "And I think (said I) that I have acted wisely; for had I bought a din­ner, we should have eaten it to-morrow, and the pleasure would have been soon over, but should we live fifty years longer, we shall have the Night Thoughts to feast upon." This was too powerful an argument to ad­mit of any further debate; in short, my wife was convinced. Down I sat, and began to read with as much enthusiasm as the good doctor possessed when he wrote it; and so much did it excite my attention as well as approbation, that I retained the greatest part of it in my memory. A couplet of Persius, as Englished, might have been ap­plied to me:

Some time in June 1774, as we sat at work in our room, Mr. Boyd, one of Mr. Wesley's people, called and informed me that a little shop and parlour were to be let [Page 148]in Featherstone-street; adding, that if I was to take it, I might there get some work as a master. I without hesitation told him that I liked the idea, and hinted that I would sell books also. Mr. Boyd then asked me how I came to think of selling books? I in­formed him that until that moment it had never once entered into my thoughts; but that when he proposed my taking the shop, it instantaneously occurred to my mind, that for several months past I had observed a great increase in a certain old book shop; and that I was persuaded I knew as much of old books as the person who kept it. I farther observed, that I loved books, and that if I could but be a bookseller, I should then have plenty of books to read, which was the greatest motive I could conceive to induce me to make the attempt. My friend on this assured me, that he would get the shop for me, and with a laugh added, "when you are Lord Mayor, you shall use all your interest to get me made an Alderman." Which I engaged not to forget to perform.

My private library at this time consisted of Fletcher's Checks to Antinomianism, &c. 5 volumes; Watt's Improvement of the Mind; Young's Night Thoughts; Wake's Translation of the Apostolical Epistles; Fleetwook's Life of Christ; the first twenty [Page 149]numbers of Hinton's Dictionary of the Arts and Sciences; some of Wesley's Journals, and some of the pious lives published by him; and about a dozen other volumes of the latter sort, besides odd magazines, &c. And to set me up in stile, Mr. Boyd recom­mended me to the friends of an holy brother lately gone to heaven, and of them I pur­chased a bagful of old books, chiefly divi­nity, for a guinea.

With this stock, and some odd scraps of leather, which together with all my books were worth about five pounds, I opened shop on midsummer-day, 1774, in Feather­stone-street, in the parish of St. Luke; and I was as well pleased in surveying my little shop with my name over it, as was Nebu­chadnezzar, when he said "Is not this great Babylon that I have built?" and my good wife often perceiving the pleasure that I took in my shop, piously cautioned me a­gainst setting my mind on the riches of this world, and assured me that it was all but va­nity. "You are very right, my dear (I sometimes r [...]plied) and to keep our minds as spiritual as we can, we will always attend our class and band meetings, hear as many sermons, &c. at the Foundery on week days as possible, and on sabbath days we will [Page 150]mind nothing but the good of our souls: our small beer shall be fetched in on Satur­day nights, nor will we dress even a potatoe on the sabbath. We will still attend the preaching at five o'clock in the morning; at eight go to the prayer meeting; at ten to the public worship at the Foundery; hear Mr. Perry at Gripplegate, at two; be at the preaching at the Foundery at five; meet with the general society at six; meet in the united bands at seven, and again be at the prayer meeting at eight; and then come home to read and pray by ourselves."

LETTER XXI.

NOtwithstanding the obscurity of the street, and the mean appear­ance of my shop, yet I soon found custom­ers for what few books I had, and I as soon laid out the money in other old trash which was daily brought for sale.

At that time Mr. Wesley's people had a sum of money which was kept on purpose to lend out, for three months, without inte­rest to such of their society whose characters were good, and who wanted a temporary relief. To increase my little stock, I bor­rowed five pounds out of this fund, which was of great service to me.

In our new situation we lived in a very frugal manner, often dining on potatoes, and quenching our thirst with water, being abso­lutely determined if possible to make some provision for such dismal times as sickness, shortness of work, &c. which we had been so frequently involved in before, and could scarce help expecting to be our fate again. My wife soreboded it much more than I did, being of a more melancholy turn of mind.

I lived in this street six months, and in [Page 152]that time increased my stock from five pounds, to twenty-five pounds.

"London—the public there are candid and generous, and before my merit can have time to create me enemies, I'll save money, and a fig for the Sultan and Sophy."

ROVER.

This immense stock I deemed too valuable to be buried in Featherstone-street; and a shop and parlour being to let in Chiswell-street, No. 46, I took them. This was at that time, and for fourteen years afterwards a very dull and obscure situation: as few ever passed through it, besides Spitalfield weavers on hanging days, and methodists on preaching nights; but still it was much better adapted for business than Feather­stone-street.

A few weeks after I came into Chilwell-street, I bade a final adieu to the gentle crast, and converted my little stock of leather, &c. into old books; and a great sale I had, con­sidering my stock; which was not only ex­tremely small, but contained very little va­riety, as it principally consisted of divinity; for as I had not much knowledge, so I sel­dom ventured out of my depth. Indeed there was one class of books, which for the first year or two that I called myself a book­seller, [Page 153]I would not sell, for such was my ignorance, bigotry, superstition (or what you please) that I conscientiously destroyed such books as fell into my hands which were written by freethinkers; for really suppos­ing them to be dictated by the devil, I would neither read them myself, nor sell them to others.

I went on prosperously until some time in September, 1775, when I was suddenly taken ill of a dreadful fever; and eight or ten days after, my wife was seized with the same disorder.

At that time I only kept a boy to help in my shop, so that I sear, while I lay ill, my wife had too much care and anxiety on her mind. I have been told that before she was confined to her bed she walked about in a delirious state; in which she did not long continue, but contrary to all expectation died, in enthusiastic rant, on the ninth of November, surrounded with several me­thodistical preachers.

She was in reality one of the best of wo­men; and although for about four years she [Page 154]was ill the greatest part of the time, which involved me in the very depth of poverty and distress, yet I never once repented hav­ing married her.

'Tis true she was enthusiastical to an ex­treme, and of course very superstitious and visionary, but as I was very far gone myself, I did not think that a fault in her.

Indeed she much exceeded me, and most others that ever fell under my observation, as she in reality totally neglected and disre­garded every kind of pleasure whatever, but those of a spiritual (or visionary) nature. Methinks I here see you sinile: but I as­sure you she made no exception; but was a complete devotee, and what is more re­markable, without pride or ill-nature.

LETTER XXII.

A Friend of mine, of whose veracity I entertain the highest opini­on, has favoured me with an account of a lady, who has to the full as much, indeed more of the spirit, but without the good­nature of Nancy Lackington. The fact is as follows:

Mr. R—t, a genteel tradesman with whom I am acquainted, having lost his second wife early in 1790, courted and married one of the holy sisters a few months after­wards. They had lived together about six months, when Mr. R—t, one Sunday, be­ing a sober religious man, took down Dod­dridge's Lectures, and began to read them to his wife and family. But this holy sis­ter found fault with her husband for reading such learned rational discourses, which fa­voured too much of human reason and vain [Page 156]philosophy, and wished he would read something more spiritual and edifying. He attempted to convince her that Dr. Dod­dridge was not only a good rational divine, but to the full as spiritual as any divine ought to be; and that to be more spiritual he must be less rational, and of course be­come fanatical and visionary. But these observations of the husband so displeased his spiritual wife, that she retired to bed, and left her husband to read Doddridge's Lec­tures as long as he chose to his children by a former wife.

The next morning while Mr. R—t was out on business, this holy sister, without saying one syllable to any person, packed up all her clothes, crammed them into a [...] hackney coach, and away she went. Mr. R—t, poor soul! on coming home disco­vered his immense loss, and in an almost frantic state, spent the first fortnight in fruit less attempts to discover her retreat.

‘Three weeks after her elopement, was (says Mr R—t) going down Cheap side one day, and saw a lady something like my wife, but as she was somewhat disguised and I could not see her face, was not sure. At last I ventured to look under her bonnet and sound, that, su [...] enough, it was she. I then walked thr [...] [Page 157]times backwards and forwards in Cheap­side, endeavouring to persuade her to re­turn with me or to discover where she lived: but she obstinately refused to re­turn, or to let me see her retreat; and here (says Mr. R—t) I begged that she would grant me a kiss; but she would not willingly. However after some bus­tle in the street, I took a farewell kiss. Poor dear soul! (sigh [...]d he) she is rather too spiritual! for notwithstanding I laid by her side near six months, she never would be prevailed upon to do any thing carnal; and although I did all in my power to get the better of her spiritual scruples, yet she was always so in love with Christ her heavenly spouse, that when she eloped from me, she was, I as­sure you, as good a virgin as when I mar­ried her.’

I must give you one more story of the same nature with the preceding.

A gentleman of London happening to be on a visit at Bristol about three years since, fell in love with a handsome young lady who was one of the holy sisterhood; after a few weeks acquaintance he made her an offer of his person and fortune, and the young lady after proper enquiry had been [Page 158]made into the gentleman's family, fortune, &c. consented to make our lover happy. They were soon after married, and the same day set off in a post-chaise towards London, in order to sleep the first night at an inn, and so save the lady the blushes occasioned by the jokes common on such occasions; this happy couple had been in bed about an hour when the cry of murder alarmed the house, this alarm proceeding from the room that was occupied by the bride and bride­groom, drew the company that way; the inn-keeper knocked at the door and de­manded admittance, our Benedict appeared at the door, and informed the host that his lady had been taken suddenly ill in a kind of fit he believed, but that she was better; and after the inn-keeper's wife had been sent into the room to see the young lady, and had sound her well, all retired to bed.

They had, however, not lain more than two hours, when the cry of murder, fire, &c. again alarmed the house, and drew many out of their beds once more.

Our young gentleman then dressed him­self, and opening the door, informed the company that he had that morning been married to the young lady in bed, and that being married, he had insisted on being ad­mitted to the privilege of an husband, but [Page 159]that the young lady had talked much about the good of her poor soul, her spiritual hus­band, &c. and that instead of granting what he conceived to be the right of every hus­band, she had thought proper to disturb all in the house. He added, that having been thus made very ridiculous, he would take effectual care to prevent a repetition of the same absurd conduct.

He then ordered a post-chaise and set off for London, leaving our young saint in bed to enjoy her spiritual contemplations in their full extent, nor has he ever since paid her any attention.

Some time since being in a large town in the west, she was pointed out to me by a friend, as she was walking in the street.

The above puts me in mind of what Ovid says was practised by young maids on the festival of the celebrated nymph Anna Pe­renna, thus translated by I know not who:

[Page 160] I am informed from good authority that there are now in Mr. Wesley's society, in London, some women, who ever since they were converted, have refused to sleep with their husbands, and that some of those will not pay the least attention to any temporal concern whatever, being as they term it, wholly wrapped up in divine contemplation, having their souls absorbed in divine love, so as not to be interrupted by the trifling concerns of a husband, family, &c.

LETTER XXIII.

BECAUSE some of the holy sisters are in their amours altoge­ther spiritual, you are by no means to un­derstand [Page 161]that they are all totally divested of the carnal propensity.

Some of these good creatures are so far from thinking that their husbands are too carnal in their affections, that they really think that they are not enough so; and in­stances are not wanting, in which, owing to their having husbands too spiritual, they have been willing to receive assistance from the husbands of other women.

It is but about a year since a certain cele­brated preacher used to administer carnal consolation to the wife of his clerk. This holy communication was repeated so often, and so open, that at last it came to the clerk's ears, who watching an opportunity, one day surprised the pious pair at their devotion, and so belaboured the preacher with his walking­staff, that the public were for near a month deprived of the benefits resulting from his remarkable gift of eloquence.

As I am got into the story-telling way, I cannot resist the temptation of telling ano­ther.

A certain holy sister who lately kept a house in a country village, within ten miles of London; and took in (as they called it) Mr. Wesleys preachers, by taking in is only meant, that when they came in their turn to [Page 162]preach in the village she used to supply each with victuals and a bed; ( no doubt but they slept alone.) This lady was so very remark­able for her spiritual experience and divine gifts, that she attracted many to her house, besides such as came in the regular course of their duty, and among the former a preacher from London, from whom I learnt the affair. This preacher happening to want a wife, and being very spiritually-minded, actually married her in December 1790, merely for her great gifts and grace, as her fortune was not above the fiftieth part as much as his own; and as to person, she is scarce one degree above ugliness itself; al­though her husband is well-proportioned, and upon the whole a handsome man. They had not been married a week, when this sim­ple preacher discovered that his gifted gra­cious saint was an incarnate devil, who had married him only to job, plunder, and —him, and in a few months between her and her gallants, they bullied him out of a settlement to the amount of four times the sum she brought him, and the poor pious preacher thinks that he has cheaply got rid of her.

The reason why I interest myself in his behalf is, because I am confident that he re­ally is an honest well-meaning man at the bottom; but withal one that does not pos­sess the greatest share of understanding, and who being formerly but a mean mechanic, never had any education; but although he is a great enthusiast, yet he is one of the good-natured inoffensive so [...], who will do no harm to any person, but on the contrary all the good in his power. I am only sorry as he lately was an honest useful tradesman, that he should have so much spiritual quix­otism in him, as at thirty years of age to shut up his shop and turn preacher, without be­ing able to read his primer; which I can as­sure you is the case. But here, my friend, you see I forget that these heavenly teach­ers only speak as the spirit giveth utterance, and that of course all human learning is entirely superfluous.

A few years since the methodist-preachers got [...]ing in Wellington (the famous birth­place of your humble servant) and estab­lished a society there, soon after which one of their preachers (at Collompton, a neigh­bouring town) happened to like a young servant girl, who was one of the holy sisters, she having gone through the new birth, bet­ter than his wife, because she was an unen­lightened. unconverted woman. But this servant girl happening to be with child, the news soon reached Wellington; and a very wealthy gentleman who entertained the preachers there followed the preacher of Collompton's example, and got his own pi­ous maid with child.

After this some of the society in Welling­ton began to have all things in common, [Page 165]and several more of the holy sisters proved prolific; which so alarmed the parish, that some of the heads of it insisted that the preachers should not be permitted to preach there any longer. "For, if (said they) the methodist society continues, we shall have the parish full of bastards."

A similar affair happened at a country town, ten or twelve miles from Oxford, about two years since, where a very hand­some powerful preacher made converts of a great number of women, both married and single, who were wonderfully affected, and great numbers flocked to his standard; but he had not laboured there more than a year, before the churchwardens were made ac­quainted with his powerful operations on sine young female saints, who all swore bas­tards to this holy, spiritual labourer in the vineyard; upon which the gentlemen of the town exerted themselves, and prevented the farther propagation of methodism; as

The author of a letter to Dr. Coke and Mr. More, published since the first edition [Page 166]of my memoirs, informs us, that a gentle­man of Chesham had a daughter about se­venteen years of age, which he put into the hands of a methodist parson, to have her converted, and was exceedingly kind and liberal to him; and we are informed that this rascal converted her first, and debauch­ed her afterwards.

So you see, my dear friend, by the above examples (were it necessary, I could give you many more) that not all the converted and sanctified females are thereby become so absorbed in the spiritual delights of the mystical union, as to have lost all relish for carnal connections; as we find that many among them are blessed with a mind so ca­pacious, as to be able to participate in the pleasures of both worlds.

LETTER XXIV.

AFTER a long di­gression, I must now return to my own af­fairs.

I continued in the above-mentioned dreadful fever many weeks, and my life was despaired of by all that came near me. Dur­ing which time, my wife, whom I affection­ately loved, died and was buried, without my once having a sight of her. What ad­ded much to my misfortunes, several nurses that were hired to take care of me and my wife, proved so abandoned and depraved as to have lost all sense of moral obligation, and every tender feeling for one who to all appearance was just on the point of death: several of these monsters in female shape robbed my drawers of linen, &c. and kept themselves drunk with gin, while I lay un­able to move in my bed, and was ready to perish, partly owing to want of cleanliness and proper care. Thus situated, I must in­evitably have fallen a victim, had it not been for my sister Dorothy, wife of Mr. Northam of Lambeth, and my sister Eliza­beth wife of Mr. Bell in Soho. These kind sisters, as soon as they were informed of he deplorable state in which I lay, not­withstanding some misunderstanding which [Page 168]subsisted between us, and prevented me from sending for them, hastened to me and each sat up with me alternately, so that I had one or the other with me every night; and, contrary to all expectation, I recovered. But this recovery was in a very slow man­ner.

As soon as I was able to enquire into the state of my affairs, I found that Mr. Whee­ler, sack and rope-maker in Old-street, and Messrs. Bottomley and Shaw, carpenters and sash-makers in Bunhill-row, had saved me from ruin, by locking up my shop, which contained my little all. Had not this been done, the nurses would no doubt have con­trived means to have emptied my shop, as effectually as they had done my drawers.

The above gentlemen not only took care of my shop, but also advanced money to pay such expences as occurred: and as my wife was dead, they assisted in making my will in favour of my mother.

These worthy gentlemen belong to Mr. Wesley's society (and notwithstanding they have imbibed many enthusiastic whims) yet would they be an honour to any society, and are a credit to human nature. I hope that I never shall recollect their kindness with­out being filled with the warmest sentiments of gratitude towards them.

On my recovery I also learnt that Miss Dorcas Turton (the young woman that kept the house, and of whom I then rented the shop, parlour, kitchen and garret) having out of kindness to my wife, occasionally assisted her during her illness, had caught the same dreadful disorder, she was then very dangerously ill, and people shunned the house as much as if the plague had been in it. So that when I opened my shop again, I was stared at as though I had actually re­turned from the other world; and it was a considerable time before many of my former customers could credit that I really was in existence, it having been repeatedly report­ed that I was dead.

Miss Dorcas Turton, was a charming young woman, and you must now be made farther acquainted with her. She is the daughter of Mr. Samuel Turton of Stafford-shire; her mother by marriage, still retained her maiden name, which was Miss Jemima [Page 170]Turton, of Oxfordshire. Mr. Samuel Tur­ton had a large fortune of his own, and a­bout twenty thousand pounds with his wife Miss Jemima, but by an unhappy turn for gaming he dissipated nearly the whole of it, and was obliged to have [...]ecourse to trade to help support his family.

He opened a shop as a saddlers ironmon­ger, but as he was but little acquainted with trade, and as his old propensity to gaming never quitted him, it is no wonder that he did not succeed in his business; and to crown all his other follies, he was bound for a false friend in a large sum; this completed his ruin.

His wife died in Jan. 1773 and his final ruin ensued a few months after; so that from that time to his death he was partly suppor­ted by his daughter Miss Dorcas Turton, who cheerfully submitted to keep a school, and worked very hard at plain work, by which means she kept her father from want. The old gentleman died a few months after I came into the shop. Being partly ac­quainted with this young lady's goodness to her father, I concluded that so amiable a daughter was very likely to make a good [Page 171]wife; I also knew that she was immode­rately fond of books, and would frequently read until morning; this turn of mind in her was the greatest of all recommendations to me, who having acquired a few ideas, was at that time restless to increase them: so that I was in raptures with the bare thoughts of having a woman to read with, and also to read to me.

I embraced the first opportunity after her recovery to make her acquainted with my mind, and as we were no strangers to each others characters and circumstances, there was no need of a long formal courtship; so I prevailed on her not to defer our union longer than the 30th of january, 1776 when for the second time I entered into the holy state of matrimony.

LETTER XXV.

I AM now in Febru­ary 1776, arrived at an important period of my life. Being lately recovered from a very painful, dangerous, and hopeless ill­ness, I found myself once more in a con­firmed state of health, surrounded by my L [...]ttle slock in trade, which was but just sav­ed from thieves, and which to me was an immense treasure. Add to the above, my having won a second time in a game where the odds were so much against me; or to use another simile, my having drawn ano­ther [Page 173]prize in the lottery of wedlock, and thus like John Buncle repaired the loss of one very valuable woman by the acquisition of another still more valuable.

Reflecting on the above united circum­stances, I found in my heart an unusual sen­sation, such as until then I had been a stran­ger to; my mind began to expand, intellec­tual light and pleasure broke in and dispel­led the gloom of fanatical melancholy; the sourness of my natural temper which had been much increased by superstition, (called by Swift, "the spleen of the soul,") in part gave way, and was succeeded by cheerful­ness, and some degree of good nature.

It was in one of these cheerful moods that I one day took up the life of John Buncle; and it is impossible for my friend to imagine with what eagerness and plea­sure I read through the whole four volumes [Page 174]of this whimsical, sensible, pleasing work; it was written by Thomas Amory, Esq (who was living in the year 1788, at the great age of 97) and I know not of any work more proper to be put into the hands of a poor ignorant bigotted superstitious method­ist; but the misfortune is, that scarce one of them will read any thing but what suits with their own narrow notions, so that they shut themselves up in darkness, and exclude every ray of intellectual light; which puts me in mind of the enthusiasts on the banks of the Ganges, who will not look at any thing beyond the tip of their moses. By the time I had gone through the last volume,

I also received great benefit from reading Coventry's Philemon to Hydaspes; it con­sists of dialogues on false religion, extrava­gant devotion, &c. in which are many very curious remarks on visionaries of various ages and sects. The works is complete in five parts octavo. There has also been a decent Scotch edition, published in twelves, both editions are now rather scarce.

I now began to enjoy many innocent pleasures and recreations in life, without the fear of being eternally damn'd for a laugh, [Page 175]a joke, or for spending a sociable evening with a few friends, going to the play-house, &c. &c.

In short I saw that true religion was no way incompatible with, or an enemy to ra­tional pleasures of any kind. As life (says one) is the gift of heaven, it is religion to enjoy it.

I now also began to read with great plea­sure the rational and moderate divines of all denominations: and a year or two after I began with metaphysics, in the intricate though pleasing labyrinths of which I have occasionally since wandered, nor am I ever likely to find my way out.

I am not in the least uneasy on that head, as I have no doubt of being in my last mo­ments able to adopt the language of one of the greatest men that ever existed:

In the mean time I can sincerely adopt the following lines of Mr. Pope.

Having begun to think rationally, and reason freely on religious matters, you may be sure I did not long remain in Mr. Wes­ley's society. What is remarkable, I well remember that some years before, Mr. Wel­ley told his society in Broadmead, Bristol, in my hearing, that he could never keep a bookseller six months in his stock, (all fana­tics are enemies to reason.) He was then pointing out the danger that attended close reasoning in matters of religion and spiritual concerns, in reading controversies, &c, at that time I had not the least idea of my ever becoming a bookseller: but I no sooner began to give scope to my reasoning facul­ties than the above remarkable assertion oc­curred to my mind.

But that which rather hastened my de­parture from methodism was this. The [Page 177]methodist preachers were continually repro­bating the practice of masters and mistresses keeping servants at home on Sundays, to dress dinners, which prevented them from hearing the word of God (by the word of God they mean their own jargon of non­sense) assuring them if the souls of such ser­vants were damned, they might in a great measure lay their damnation at the doors of such masters and mistresses, who rather than eat a cold dinner, would be guilty of break­ing the sabbath, and risking the souls of their servants. But how great was my sur­prize on discovering that these very men who were continually preaching up fasting, abstinence, &c. to their congregations, and who wanted others to dine off cold dinners, or eat bread and cheese, &c. would them­selves not even sup, without roasted fowls, &c.

This I found to be fact, as I several times had occasion after attending the preaching to go into the kitchen hehind the old Foun­dery, (which at that time was Mr. Wesley's preaching house) there I saw women who had been kept from hearing the sermon, &c. they being employed in roasting fowls, and otherwise providing good suppers for the preachers.

"So," said I, "you lay burthens on [Page 178]other men's shoulders, but will not so much as touch them yourselves with one of your singers."

A ridiculous instance of the same nature happened also some years since at Taunton. One of Mr. Wesley's preachers, whose name was Cotterrell, assured his congregation from time to time, that every baker that bak­ed meat on Sundays would be damned, and every person that partook of such meat would also be damned; on which a poor baker shut up his oven on Sundays; the consequence was that he lost his customers, as such bakers as baked their victuals on Sunday, had their custom on other days, so that the poor baker's family was nearly re­duced to the workhouse; when one Sunday passing before the door where he knew the preacher was to dine, he was very much surprised to see a baked leg of pork carri­ed into the house, and after a few minutes reflections he rushed in and found the pious preacher eating part of the baked leg of pork, on which he bid farewell to the me­thodists, and again took care for his family.

It perhaps is worth remarking, that many poor hair-dressers in Mr. Wesley's society are reduced to extreme poverty, they can­not get employment, as they will not dress hair on Sundays; and I find that a poor [Page 179]milk woman, who until the beginning of this year 1792, maintained her family in a decent manner, was lately frightened out of her understanding by a methodist preacher; her crime was the selling milk on Sundays. The poor wretch is now confined in Bed­lam, and her five children are in a work­house.

I at this time know a bookseller, who being a methodist, is so conscientious as to have his hair dressed on the evening of every Saturday, and to prevent its being discom­posed in the night, he on those nights al­ways sleeps in his elbow chair. Indeed some tell the story different, and say, that his hair is dressed on Saturday morning, and by sleeping in his chair he saves the expence of dressing on Sundays; others say, that the first is the fact, and that he hinted at it in his shop-bills, in order that the public may know where to find a tradesman that had a very tender conscience.

I was one day called aside and a hand-bill was given me, and thinking it to be a quack doctor's bill for a certain disease, I expressed my surprise at its being given to me in such a particular manner; but on reading it I found it contained a part [...]lar account of the wonderful conversion of a John Biggs, when he was twenty-one years of age. Mr. [Page 180]Biggs says, that ever since that time he has had communion with God his Father every hour. He publishes this bill he says for the glory of God; but that the public might have an opportunity of dealing with this wonderful saint and perfectly holy man, he put his address in capitals, John Biggs, No. 98, Strand. I keep this bill as a curiosity.

LETTER XXVI.

I Had no sooner left Mr. Wesley's society, and began to talk a little more like a rational being, but I found that I had incurred the hatred of some, the pity of others, the envy of many, and the displeasure of all Mr. Wesley's— old women! [Page 181]So that for a long time I was constantly teased with their impertinent nonsense. I believe that never was a poor devil so plagued.

Some as they passed by my door in their way to the foundery would only make a stop and lift up their hands, turn up the whites of their eyes, shake their heads, groan, and pass on. Many would call in and take me aside, and after making rueful faces, ad­dress me with, "O, Brother Lackington! I am very sorry to find that you who began in the spirit are now like to end in the flesh. Pray brother, do remember Lot's wife.' Another would interrupt me in my business, to tell me, that, "he that putteth his hand to the plough, and looketh back, is unfit for the kingdom." Another had just called as he was passing by, to caution me against the bewitching snares of prosperity. Others again called to know if I was as happy then as I was when I constantly sought the Lord with my brethren, in prayer meeting, in class, in band, &c. When I assured them that I was more happy, they in a very so­lemn [Page 182]manner assured me, that I was under a very great delusion of the devil; and when I by chance happened to laugh at their enthusiastic rant, some have run out of my shop, declaring that they were afraid to stay under the same roof with me, lest the house should fall on their heads. Some­times I have been accosted in such an a­larming manner as though the house was on fire, with "Oh! brother! brother! you are fast asleep! and the flames of hell are taking hold of you!"

A certain preacher assured me, in the pre­sence of several gentlemen, that the devil would soon toss me about in the flames of hell with a pitchsork. This same eloquene mild preacher used occasionally to strip to his shirt to dodge the devil.

Mr. E. a gentleman of my acquaintance, going through some alley, one Sunday, hear­ing a very uncommon noise, was led by curiosity to the house from whence it pro­ceeded, and there he saw elevated above an assembly of old women, &c. this taylor, s [...]ript in his shirt, with his wig off and the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, sweating, foaming at the mouth, and bellowing like a baited bull. In the above manner it seems he would often amuse himself and his con­gregation for near two hours,

Some of the Tabernacle saints assured me, that I never had one grain of saving grace, and that when I thought myself a child of God, I was only deluded by the devil, who being now quite sure of me, did not think it worth his while to deceive me any longer. Others advised me to take care of sinning against light and knowledge, and piously hoped that it was not quite too late; that I had not (they hoped) committed the unpar­donable sin against the Holy Ghost. Others again, who happened to be in a better hu­mour, often told'me that they should see me brought back to the true sheepfold, as they really hoped I had once been in a state of grace, and if so, that I always was in grace, in spite of all I could do: the Lord would never quit his hold of me; that I might fall foully, but that it was impossible for me to fall finally, as in the end I should be brought, back on the shoulders of the everlasting gos­pel, for when God came to number his jewels, not one would be missing.

One of these righteous men, after passing some encomiums on me for my moral cha­racter, assured me that I had by no means fallen so law as many of God's dear children [Page 184]had fallen, but fall as low as they possibly can, said he, they are still God's children, for although they may "be black with sin they are fair within" He then read to me the following passage out of a pamphlet writ­ten against Mr. Fletcher by Mr. R. Hill. ‘David stood as completely justified in the everlasting righteousness of Christ, at the time when he caused Uriah to be murdered, and was committing adultery with his wife, as he was in any part of his life. For all the sins of the elect, be they more or be they less, be they past, present, or to come, were forever done away. So that every one of those elect stand spotless in the sight of God.’ Is not this a very comfortable kind of doc­trine? The pernicious consequences of such tenets impressed on the minds of the ignorant followers of these quacks in reli­gion, must be obvious to every person ca­pable of reflection. They have nothing to do but to enlist themselves in the band of the elect, and no matter then how criminal their life!

Thus, my dear friend, I was for a long time coaxed by some, threatened with all the tortures of the damned by others, and constantly teazed some how or other by all the methodists who came near me.

I at last determined to laugh at all their ridiculous perversions of the scripture, and their spiritual cant. The consequence (as might be expected) was, they piously and charitably consigned me over to be torment­ed by the devil, and every where declared that I was turned a downright atheist. But the aspersions of such fanatics gave me no concern, for

And no matter "when or where." After relating such ridiculous stuff as the above, I think that I cannot conclude this better than with Swift's humourous and satirical acount of the day of judgment; so humor­ous that I would no [...] have quoted it had it not been written by a divine of the church of England.

LETTER XXVII.

IT being generally known that I had for many years been a strict methodist, since I have freed myself [Page 187]from their shackles, I have been often asked if I did not believe or rather know, that the methodists were a vile sect of hypocrites altogether? My reply has been uniformly in the negative. I am certain that they are not in general so. The major part of them indeed are very ignorant (as is the case with enthusiasts of every religion) but I believe that a great number of the methodists are sin­cere, honest, friendly people; in justice to those of that description it may not be amiss to observe, that many artful, sly, designing persons, having noticed their character, connections, &c. and knowing that a reli­gious person is in general supposed to be honest and conscientious, have been induc­ed to join their societies, and by assuming an appearance of extraordinary sanctity, have the better been enabled to cheat and defraud such as were not guarded against their hypocritical wiles.

I have also reason to belleve that there are not a few, who think that they can as it were afford to cheat and defraud, on the score of having right notions of religion in their heads, hearing what they deem ortho­dox teachers, going to prayer meetings, &c.

[Page 188] There are again others who think, that grace is so free and so easy to be had, or in other words, that as they can have pardon for all kinds of sins, and that at any time whenever they please, they under this idea make very little conscience of running up large scores, to which practice I fear such doctrines as I noticed in my last, from the pen of Mr. Hill, have not a little contri­buted.

I have often thought that great hurt has been done to society by the methodist preach­ers, both in town and country, attending condemned malefactors, as by their fanatical conversation, visionary hymns, bold and impious applications of the scriptures, &c. many dreadful offenders against law and jus­tice, have had their passions and imagina­tions so worked upon, that they have been sent to the other world in such raptures, as would better become martyrs innocently suffering in a glorious cause, than criminals of the first magnitude.

A great number of narratives of these sudden conversions and triumphant exits have been compiled, many of them publish­ed, and circulated with the greatest avidity, to the private emolument of the editors, and doubtless to the great edification of all siuners, long habituated to a course of vil­lainous [Page 189]depredations on the lives and pro­perties of the honest part of the community; and many such accounts as have not ap­peared in print, have been assiduously pro­claimed in all the methodist chapels and barns, throughout the three kingdoms; by which the good and pious of every denomi­nation have been scandalized, and notorious offenders encouraged to persevere, trusting sooner or later, to be honoured with a simi­lar degree of notice, and thus by a kind of hocus pocus, be suddenly transformed into saints.

The following remarks made by the com­pilers of the Monthly Review for 1788, page 286, are so applicable to the present subject, that I hope my introducing the pas­sage will not be deemed improper. After mentioning a couplet in one of the method­istical hymns, where it is said

they proceed thus: "Such doctrine no doubt must be com­fortable to poor wretches so circumstanced as those were to whom this pious preacher had the goodness to address his discourse; but some (and those not men of shallow re­slection) have questioned whether it is alto­gether [Page 190]right, thus to free the most flagitious outcasts of society from the terrrors of an after-reckoning; since it is too well known, that most of them make little account of their punishment in this world. Instead of the "fearful looking for of (future) judg­ment;" they are enraptured with the pros­pect of a joyful flight "to the expanded arms of a loving saviour—longing to em­brace his long lost chidren." Surely this is not the way (humanly speaking) to check the alarming progress of moral depravity; to which, one would think no kind of en­couragement ought to be given,"

I must observe farther, that the unguard­ed manner in which the methodist preachers make tenders of pardon and salvation, has induced many to join their fraternity, whose consciences wanted very large plaisters in­deed! many of those had need to be put un­der a course of mortification and penance, but they generally adopt another method; a sew quack nostrums, which they call faith and assurance, drys up the wound, and they then make themselves as hateful by affecting to have squeamish consciences, as they re­ally have been obnoxious, for having con­sciences of very wide latitude indeed. And notwithstanding the affected change, they often are as bad, or worse than ever. As a [Page 191]friend, permit me to advise you never to purchase any thing at a shop where the mas­ter of it crams any of his pious nonsense into his shop-bills, &c. as you may be assured you will nine times out of ten sind them, in the end, arrant hypocrites, and as such, make no scruple of cheating in the way of trade, if possible.

This puts me in mind of one of these pious brethren in Petticoat-lane who wrote in his shop-windown; "Rumps and Burs sold here, and baked Sheep's heads will be con­tinued every night, if the Lord permit." The Lord had no objection: so Rumps, Burs, and Baked Sheep's heads were sold there a long time. And I remember to have seen on a board, near Bedminster-down, "Tripe and cow-heels sold here as usual, except on the Lord's-day, which the Lord help me to keep." And on my enquiring a­bout the person who exhibited this remark­able shew-board, at the inn just by, I was informed that the pious Tripe-seller gene­rally got drunk on Sundays, after he re­turned from the barn-preaching; which ac­counts for his not selling tripe on that day, having full employment (though possibly not so inoffensive) elsewhere.

I also saw in a village near Plymouth in Devonshire, "Roger Tuttel, by God's grace [Page 192]and mercy, kill rats, moles, and all sorts of vermin and venomous creatures." But I need not have gone so far, as, no doubt you must remember that a few years since, a cer­tain pious common-council man of the me­tropolis, advertised in the public papers for a porter that could carry three hundred weight and serve the Lord.

I have a few more observations to make on this remarkable sect, but fearing I have already tired you, shall reserve them for my next.

LETTER XXVIII.

IT is very remarkable that while I was writing the last five lines of my former letter to you, on Wednesday the 2d of March 1791, I reccived the news of the death of Mr. John Wesley, who I am informed, died that morning at his own house, in the city-road, Moorfields, in the eighty-eighth year of his age. He had no illness, but the wheels of the machine being worn out, it stopt of course. As I am on the subject of methodisin, I hope you will not deem it impertinent, if I devote a few lines to this great parent of a numerous sect, whom I well knew, and feel a pleasure in speaking of with some respect.

Several days preceding his interment, be­ing laid in his coffin, in his gown and band, he was exposed to the view of all who came, and the public; and I suppose that forty or fifty thousand persons had a sight of him. But the concourse of people was so great, that many were glad to get out of the crowd without seeing him at all; and although a number of constables were present, yet the pick-pockets contrived to ease many of their purses, watches, &c.

To prevent as much as possible the dread­ful [Page 194]effects of a mob, he was interred on Wednesday, March the 9th, between five and six o'clock in the morning, in the buri­al ground behind his own chapel in the city-road. After which Dr. Whitehead (the physician) preached his funeral sermon, but notwithstanding the early hour, many thousands attended more than the chapel would hold, although it is very large.

As soon as it was known that Mr. Wesley was deceased, a number of needy brethren deemed it a fair opportunity of prositing by it, and each immediately set his ingenuity to work to compose what he chose to call a life of him; and for some weeks since the fune­ral the chapel-yard and its vicinity has exhi­bited a truly ludicrous scene, on every night of preaching, owing to the different writers and venders of these hasty perform­ances exerting themselves to secure a good sale; one bawling out, that his is the right life, a second with apious shake of the head, declares his the real life, a third protests he has got the only genuine account; and a sourth calls them all vile chea [...]s and impos­tors, &c. so that between all these competi­tors, the saints are so divided and perplexed in their opinious, that some decline purchas­ing either; others willing "to try all, and keep that which is good," buy of [...] of [Page 195]these respectable venders of the life and last account of that celebrated character; while the uninterested passenger is apt to form a conclusion that the house of prayer is again become a den of thieves. Thus we see those holy candidates for heaven are so in­fluenced by self-interest that it

I cannot help thinking that Mr. John Wesley, the father of the methodists, was one of the most respectable enthusiasts that ever lived; as it is generally thought that he believed all that he taught others, and lived the fame pious exemplary life, that he would have his followers practise. The sale of his numerous writings produced nett profits to the amount of near TWO THOU­SAND POUNDS per annum; and the weekly collection of the classes in London and Westminster amounted to a very large sum; besides this, great sums were collected, at the sacraments and love feasts, for quarter­ly tickets, private and public subscriptions, &c. &c. In a pamphlet which was pub­lished in the beginning of this year 1792, by an old member of their society, it is as­serted that for the last ten years, the sums [Page 196]collected in Great Britain and Ireland, have amounted to no less than FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND POUNDS per annum. Besides the above, many private collections are made in all his societies throughout the three kingdoms, so that Mr. Wesley might have amassed an immense fortune, had riches been his object. But instead of accumu­lating wealth, he expended all his own pri­vate property; and I have been often in­formed, from good authority, that he never denied relief to a poor person that asked him. To needy tradesmen I have known him to give ten or twenty pounds at once. In going a few yards from his study to the pulpit, he generally gave away an handful of half-crowns to poor old people of his society. He was indeed charitable to an extreme, as he often gave to unworthy ob­jects, nor would he keep money sufficient to hold out on his journies. One of his friends informs me that he left but £4 10 s. behind him; and I have heard him declare that he would not die worth twenty pounds, except his books for sale, which he has left to the "general methodist fund, for carry­ing on the work of God, by itinerant preach­ers," charged only with a rent of eighty-five pounds a year, which he has left to the wife and children of his brother Charles.

[Page 197] His learning and great abilities are well known. But I cannot help noticing that in one of his publications (stepping out of his line) he betrayed extreme weakness and cre­dulity, though no doubt his intentions were good. What I allude to is his "Primitive Physic," a work certainly of a dangerous tendency, as the majority of remedies there­in prescribed are most assuredly inefficaci­ous, and many of them very dangerous, if administered. The consequence of the first is, that while poor ignorant people are try­ing these remedies (besides the very great probability of their mistaking the case) the diseases perhaps become so inveterate as to resist the power of more efficacious reme­dies properly applied, and with regard to those of a highly dangerous nature, how rash to trust them in the hands of such un­informed people as this book was almost solely intended for, especially when sancti­oned by the name of an author whose in­fluence impressed the minds of the unfortu­nate patients with the most powerful convic­tion. Many fatal effects, I fear, have been producad by a blind adherence to this com­pilation; which carries with it more the ap­pearance of being the production of anigno­rant opi [...]ted old woman, than of the man of [Page 198]science and education. One melancholy in­stance is fresh in my memory; a much es­teemed friend having fallen an immediate sacrifice to an imprudent application of one of these remedies.

A very worthy physician to whom the community is highly indebted for his inde­fatigable and successful exertions in the cause of humanity, published some very ju­dicious "Remarks on the Primitive Phy­sic," which however, for obvious reasons, were not so generally noticed as the subject deserved; as almost all the admirers of Mr. Wesley's work consisted of his followers (sufficiently numerous indeed to insure a very extensive sale) these were too bigoted to condescend to peruse any production tending to enlighten their understandings; and the public at large, not having paid much attention to it, did not conceive them­selves so materially interested in the "Re­marks," though I am firmly of opinion, if they are perused with that candour with which they appear to be written, they will have a very beneficial tendency in guarding the public against the mischief too frequent­ly arising from the "Primitive Physic," and other quack publications, as absurd as they are injurious.

Permit me just to give you one specimen [Page 199]of the author's wonderful abilities, by quot­ing a receipt, which if not an infallible reme­dy, must at least be acknowledged to be a singular one.

Should you, my dear friend, be desirous of perusing a variety of remedies, not equal­ly judicious as well as efficacious with those of Mr. Wesley, you will meet with ample satisfaction by turning to "Dom Pernety's Voyage to the Falkland Islands," page 153 to 162, quarto edition.

Some of the receipts there inserted are so truly curious, I can scarce refrain from treat­ing you with a specimen or two, but being at the same time not very delicate, I must decline inserting them, for like Simpkin,

Should you, however, deem it worth the trouble of turning to the volume, I am con­fident the subject must excite a smile at the amazing credulity of the writer, as well as his folly in expofing such wretched trash to the public eye, indeed I can hardly persuade myself he could be serious when he wrote them.

The two following receipts I must give [Page 200]you, one being no doubt an effectual reme­dy for a grievous complaint of that useful quadruped the horse, the other at least equally certain for the cure of one of the most dangerous disorders human nature is subject to.

"To cure a foundered Horse."

"Let him take one or two spoonfuls of common salt in half a pint of water."

"For a malignant Fever."

"A live tench applied to the scet for twelve hours, then buried quietly, or thrown down the house of office, and the patient will soon recover."

But as I well know you do not possess the faith either of a methodist or a papid, to put implicit trust in whatever the trachers of either choose to write or say. I sear lest I have bestowed on you labour in vain, I therefore decline quoting any more of those extracrdinary remedies.

It was a circumliance pecularly happy for the practitioncrs of physic, though no doubt a terrible misfortune to the public, that the disserence in religious principles of these two reverend gentlemen proved an effectual bar to the union of their medical obilities, which appear so exactly conespon­dent; had such an event taken place, that [Page 201]horrid monster disease might by this time have been banished from the earth, and the sons of AEligsculapius would be doomed to feed on their own compositions or starve! The Rev. Dr. Fordyce, in a late publica­tion has also given the world a remedy for the cramp, as delicate as efficacious.

What a pity that such a character as Mr. Wesley should have been a dupe and a rank enthusiast! A believer in dreams, visions, immediate revelations, miraculous cures, witchcraft, and many other ridiculous absur­dities, as appears from many passages of his Journals, to the great disgrace of his abilities and learning; which puts me in mind of Sir Isaac Newton's Exposition of the Reve­lations, Milton's Paradise Regained, Dr. Johnson's unmanly Devotions, &c. &c. However, we may sasely affirm that Mr. Wesley was a good sincere and honest one, who denied himself many things; and real­ly thought that he disregarded the praise and blame of the world, when he was more courted, respected, and followed than any man living, and he ruled over a hundred and twenty thousand people with an abso­lute sway, and the love of power seems to have been the main spring of all his actions. I am inclined to believe that his death will be attended with consequences somewhat [Page 202]similar to those which followed the death of Alexander the Great. His spiritual gene­rals will be putting in their pretentions, and soon divide their master's conquests. His death happened at a time rather critical to the methodists, as the Swedenborgians, or New Jerusalemists, are gaining ground very fast: Many of the methodists, both preach­ers and hearers, are already gone over to their party, many more will now, undoubt­edly, follow; and the death of that great female champion of methodism, the Count­ess of Huntingdon, which has since happen­ed, will in all probability occasion another considerable defection from that branch of methodists, and an additional reinforcement to the Swedenborgians; a proof of the fond­ness of mankind for novelty, and the mar­vellous, even in religious matters.

I shall conclude my remarks on the me­thodists in my next.

LETTER XXIX.

ALTHOUGH Mr. Wesley was possessed of a very great share both of natural and acquired abilities, yet I suppose it scarcely necessary to inform you, that this is by no means the case with his preachers in general: for although there are amongst them some truly sensible, intelli­gent men, yet the major part are very igno­rant and extremely illiterate: many of these excellent spiritual guides cannot even read a chapter in the bible, though containing the deep mysteries which they have the rash­ness and presumption to pretend to explain. Many others cannot write their own names. But so great is the ignorance of Mr. Wes­ley's people in general, that they often ne­glect the more rational and sensible of their preachers, and are better pleased with such as are even destitute of common sense; re­ally [Page 204]believing that the incoherent nonsense which they from time to time pour forth, is dictated by the holy spirit; for which sever­al reasons may be assigned.

It is always observable, that the more ig­norant people are, the more confidence they possess. This considence or impudence, passes with the vulgar, as a mark of their being in the right; and the more the igno­rance of the preachers is discovered, the more are they brought down to their own standard. Again, the more ignorant preach­ers having very contracted ideas of real re­ligion and manly virtue, of course supply the want of it with a ridiculous fuss about trifles, which passes with the ignorant for a more sanctified deportment, and hence arises much of the mischief which has been so justly charged on the methodists. For by making the path to heaven so very narrow, and beset with ten thousand bugbears, many despairing to be ever able to walk in it, have thrown off all religion and morality, and sunk into the abyss of vice and wickedness. Others have their tempers so soured as to become lost to all the tender connections of husband, wife, father, child. &c. really be­lieving that they are literally to hate father, mother, &c. for Christ's sake. Many have in a fit of despondency put a period to their [Page 205]existence, it having become a burthen too intolerable to be borne. Some have been so infatuated with the idea of sasting to mor­tify the slesh, that their strict perseverance in it has been productive of the most seri­ous consequences: Two instances of which lately occurred in one family, in the City Road—The mistress was deprived of her senses, and the maid literally fasted herself to death; and Bedlam and private mad­houses now contain many, very many me­lancholy instances of the dreadsul effects of religious despondency; not to mention the hundreds that have died from time to time in such places, and the numerous suicides which have been traced to the same source.

Mr. Bentley says, in his letter to the members of the house of commons, dated May 12th, 1791, that although he had a fortune of one thousand pounds, and natu­rally liked good living, yet that he lived on horse and ass flesh, barley bread stinking butter, &c. and when he found that his eat­ing such things gave offence to his neigh­bours. he left off eating ass flesh- and only lived on vegetables, as the common sort of food by their dearness hurt his conscience,

A few years since I saw in a sield not se­ven miles from China-hall a man tossing up [Page 206]his bible in the air. This he often repeated, and raved at a strange rate. Amongst other things (pointing to a building at some dis­tance) " That (said he) is the devil's house, and it shall not stand three days longer!" On the third day after this I saw with sur­prise an account in one of the public papers of that very building having been set on fire, and burnt to the ground, and thus the poor itinerant disciples of Thespis lost the whole of their wardrobe and scenery.

This religious maniac soon after preached very often in Smithfield and Moorfields; but he did not wholly depend on the opera­tions of the Holy Spirit, as at last he seldom began to preach until he was nearly drunk, or filled with another kind of spirit, and then he was "a very powerful preacher indeed!" But the good man happening several times to exert himself rather too much, had nearly tumbled headlong out of his portable pul­pit; these accidents the mob uncharitably ascribed to the liquor that he had drank, and with mud, stones, dead cats, &c. drove him off every time he came, until at last our preacher took his leave of them with saying "that he perceived it was in vain to at­tempt their conversion, as he saw that God had given them over to the hardness of their hearts."

[Page 207] But although this holy man deserted them, yet other spiritual knights-errant were not wanting, so that a little time before the heaps of stones which lay for years in Moor­fields were removed for the purpose of build­ing on the spot, I have seen five or six in a day preaching their initiation sermons from those clevated situations, until they could collect a sufficient sum of money to purchase pulpits. Some of these excellent preachers received the whole of their divine education and took up their degrees in Moorfields, and in due time, after having given ample and suis [...]ctory proofs of being properly qualifi­ed, have been admitted to professorships in the noble college situated on the fouth side of those fields, generally known by the name of Bedlam. You must know, sir, that many of the lazy part of the communit [...] set up stalls in Moorfields to buy and sell apples, old iron, &c. several of these having heard such edifying discourses frequently repeated as they sat at their stalls, and observing the success which those kind of preachers met with, boldly resolved to make trial of their spiritual gists on the heaps of stones, and have now totally abandoned their stalls, and are gone forth as embassadors of heaven, though without being furnished with any di­plomas as such. One of these who cannot [Page 208]read, lately informed me that he had quitted all temporal concerns for the good of poor ignorant sinners. However after all, "there is (possibly) a pleasure in being mad, which none but madmen know." The subject of methodism is so fertile a one, that were I disposed to enlarge thereon, my correspon­dence would be extended to a very consider­able length; but instead of pursuing it, I think it better to apologize for having so long digressed from the main subject of my narrative.

But before I take my leave of the subject, I will in a few words inform you how the preachers were governed and supported. Mr. Wesley every year ordered the major part of his travelling preachers in great Bri­tain and Ireland, which were upwards of two hundred in number, to meet together, one year at London, the next at Bristol, and the following at Manchester; this meeting he called a conference. At those confer­ences, the business of the whole society was transacted, new preachers admitted, and some turned off, or silenced; complaints heard, differences adjusted, &c. Mr. Wesley having divided great Britain into circuits, at those conferences, he appointed the preachers to every circuit for the following year, and as he well knew the general want [Page 209]of abilities among his preachers, he limited their time of preaching in one circuit to a year, and so in some measure, made up the want of abilities by variety, most of those circuits had three or four preachers every year, and in many country places, they had but one sermon a week from the travelling preachers, so that each preacher preached about twelve sermons in the year, (sometimes it may be twenty) at each place. In every circuit one of the preachers was called the assistant: to him the various contributions were paid, and of him might be had any of Mr. Wesley's publications. He also ad­mitted new members, or turned out any who were judged unworthy of bearing the high appellation of a methodist.

Each itincrant preacher had a horse found him, which, with himself, is maintained by some brother or sister wherever they go, as the preachers do not put up at any inn, and yet they have as regular stages to call at as the coaches have, they having made converts at convenient distances in most parts of Creat Britain and Ireland.

Each travelling preacher was then allow­ed twelve pounds a year, to find himself cloaths, pay [...]rnpikes, [...] besides what they could get privately out of the old wo­men's [Page 210]pockets. But besides those circuit-preachers, there "are in the year 1790, in Europe and America, thirteen or fourteen hundred," of local holdersforth, who do not preach out of their own neighbourhood, and those in general are the most ignorant of all.

Many of the circuit-preachers only travel until they can marry a rich widow, or some ignorant young convert with money, which has often been the cause of great unhappi­ness, in many respectable families. The following poetical description of the metho­dist preachers, is so much to my purpose, that I must insert it:

I now take a final leave of methodism, with assuring you, that in giving a general idea of the tenets and practices of a numer­ous sect who have excited much public at­tention, I have invariably had in view to "speak of them as they are, nothing to ex­tenuate, nor set down aught in malice." Should you wish to see the crrors of the methodists particularly exposed, you may read Bishop Lavington's "Enthusiasm of the methodists and baptists compared." It is esteemed a very good work, it will amuse as well as instruct you. In my next, I in [Page 212]tended to have resumed the account of my own affairs; but an extraordinary publica­tion, will tempt me to add, one letter more on the methodists.

LETTER XXX.

ALthough I was many years in connection with Mr. Wesley's people, it seems, according to a pamphlet published a sew months after the first edi­tion of my memoirs, that I was but supersi­cially acquainted with Mr. Wesley and his preachers. The pamphlet is entitled, "A letter to the Rev. T. Coke, LL. D. and Mr. H. Moore." To which is added, "An Ap­peal and Remonstrance to the People called Methodists, by an old member of the Soci­ety." [Page 213]This old member informs us, that he has been acquainted with the methodists twenty-eight years, and if their preachers are but half as bad as he has drawn them, they are a detestable set of sly deceiving villains. The letter was occasioned by Dr. Coke and Mr. Moore's proposals for publishing Mr. Wesley's Life, in opposition to that adver­tised under the sanction of the executors) to be written by Dr. Whitehead.

And we are informed that after Mr. Wes­ley's ma [...]cripts and private papers had been given up to Dr. Whi [...]ehead, and the Doctor appointed to write his Life, and this Life annou [...]ced to the public by the executors as the only authentic work, on a misunderstanding taking place between Dr. Whitehead and the preachers, because the Doctor would not submit his work to be inspected, altered, &c. and also because the Doctor would not consent to give to the preachers at the conference nearly the whole of the prosits derived from his labours, they then sent a circular letter signed by nine of their head preachers, to all their societies, and advised them to return the subscriptions that they had taken for Dr. Whitehead's life of Mr. Wesley, and to procure all the subscriptions in their power for another life of Mr. Wesley, to be written by Dr. Coke and Mr. Moore.

[Page 214] The following quotations I think will please you, page 8, &c. "That Mr. Wes­ley was a great man is an undeniable truth; that is comparitively:—Great amongst lit­tle people."

"Nothing can exhibit his character as an ambitions man, more than the following anccdo [...]e, which I can give from the most authentic author [...]y. When a boy he was in the Charter-House school; the Rev. A. Tooke, the author of the Pantheen, was then master, and observing that his pupil, who was remarkably forward in his studies, yet he constan [...]ly associated with the inferior classes, and it was his custom to be sur­rounded by a number of the little boys, ha­ranguing them Mr. Tooke, once acciden­tally broke in upon him when in the mid­dle of an oration, and interrupted him, by desiring him to follow him to the parlour. Mr. Wesley, offended by being thus ab­ruptly deprived of an opportunity of dis­playing his superior abilities, obeyed his master very reluctantly. When he had got into the parlour Mr. Tooke said to him: John, I wonder that you who are so much above the lower forms should constantly as­sociate with them, for you should now con­sider yourself as a man, and affect the com­pany of the bigger boys, who are your [Page 215]equals." Our hero, who could hardly sti­fle his resentment whilst his master spoke, boldly replied:— "Better to rule in hell, than serve in heaven."

"Mr. Tooke dismissed his pupil with this remarkable observation to an affistant master.—That boy though designed for the church will never get a living in it: for his ambitious soul will never acknowledge a superior, or be confined to a parish.

"That he was superior to the prejudices he inculcated to his followers, and with what contempt be sometimes treated the lay­preachers, the following will shew, —Being at supper one Sunday night (a short time be­fore his death) with several of the preach­ers, one of them observed that whenever Mr. Wesley travelled he was always invit­ed to the houses of the neighbouring nobi­lity and gentry; but when the preachers travelled, [...]o notice was taken of them, which he could not account for. Mr. Wesley replied, "It was the way of the world to [...] the great, but I say, love me love my d [...]g! enjoying his triumph with a hearty [...] at their expence."

After this old members letter comes his Appeal and Remo [...]rance to the Methodists, which, as coming hom an old methodist, contains some very extraordinary affertions [Page 216]and facts, and letters more extraordinary. I shall give you some extracts from it in page 28. "Faith is the ground work of (me­thodist) evidence—it precludes the necessi­ty of every virtue—it is to be feared it has sent more of its votaries to Bedlam than to heaven—is to wise men a stumbling block, an unintelligible jargon of mystical nonsense, which common sense and common honesty reject."

Page 30, &c. "It has been computed that the contributions raised among the members of the different societies in Great Britain and Ireland for these last ten years, has amounted to no less than FOUR HUN­DRED THOUSAND POUNDS per annum. It has been further proved that about one eighth part of this sum is appropriated to the purposes for which it was raised, and the re­mainder is disposed of at the discretion of the conference, the preachers and the stew­ards. This calculation does not include the enormous sums known to be raised pri­vately by the influence of the preachers in their respective circuits, under the various pretentions of distress, &c.

"However, I do not pretend to vouch for the accuracy of th [...] calculation, yet I think it by no means c [...]ggerated. What has come within my own knowledge I can [Page 217]assert with confidence, and I challenge any one to resute it.

"Of Kingswood School, I can speak with certainty: for this foundation, many thous­ands have been raised which never were, and I believe never were intended to be applied to that charity. During eight years that I was at Kingswood, it not only supported it­self, but produced a considerable annual surplus.

"One of the masters of King's School, being desicient in his accounts, he was judg­ed an improper person to enjoy any place of trust, and was accordingly dismissed, and appointed to a circuit as a travelling preach­er —but any will do for that, who has but impudence and hypocrisy—no matter wheth­er he possesses a grain of honesty. Now if this was the case with respect to Kingswood, may we not conclude that the same iniquit­ous principle pervaded the administration of the finances in all the different depart­ments?

Page [...], &c. "O how long, ye shecp, will ye [...]e the prey of wolves who sleece and d [...]our you at pleasure! and, ye fools, be the dupes of knavery and hypocrisy?

"Open your eyes, and behold the villain and hyp [...]crite unn [...]a [...]ked, in instances of the [Page 218]most slagitious crimes, and deeds of the blackst dye! perpetrated by wretches, whom you tamely suffer to devour your substance, and whom you cheersully contri­bute to support in idleness and luxury, which brings into contempt the gospel, and whose example has done more harm to re­ligion than that of the most abandoned and profligate open sinner: admitting at the same time that there may be, and I hope there are, some honest and sincere men amongst them.

"To begin then with the late Rev. John Wesley. As the founder and head, he must be considered as the primum mobile, or first mover of this mighty machine of hypocrisy, fraud, and villainy! Yet were his motives originally laudable in their intention, virtu­ous in their object, but unhappy in their consequences. This I will endeavour to make appear, by an impartial review of his life, character, and conduct. I flatter my­self that I am in some measure qualified, being totally divested of prejudice, and hav­ing no interest in representing him either as a saint or a devil.

"From what I have observed during near twenty-eight years that I have known him, I have uniformly found him an bitious, imperious, and positive even to obstinacy [Page 219]His learning and knowledge various and general, but superficial; his judgment too hasty and decisive to be always just—his pe­netration acute; yet was he constantly the dupe of his credulity, and his unaccountable and universal good opinion of mankind. Humane, generous and just. In his private opinions liberal to a degree inconsistent with strict christianity; in his public declar­ations rigid almost to intolerance. From this observation of the inconsistency of his private opinions and public declarations, I have often been inclined to doubt his since­rity, even in the profession of the christian saith. In his temper impetuous, and impa­tient of contradiction; but in his heart, a stranger to malice or resentment; incapable of particular attachment to any individual; he knew no ties of blood or claims of kin­dred; never violently or durably affected by grief, sorrow or any of the passions to which humanity is subject; susceptible of the grossest flattery, and the most fulsome panegyric was constantly accepted and re­warded. In his views and expectations, sanguine and unbounded, but though often disappointed, never dejected; of his benevo­lence and charity much has been said; but it is to be observed, benevolence is but a pas­sive virtue, and his charity was no more than [Page 220]b [...]bery; he know no other use of money but to give it away, and he found out that an hundred pounds would go farther in half crowns than in pounds; so that his charity was little more than parade, as he hardly ever es­sentially relieved an object of distress: in fact his charity was no more than putting his money to interest, as the example excited his followers to the practice of the same vir­tue, and doubled their subscriptions and contributions. In his constitution warm, and consequently amorous; in his manner of living luxurious and strictly epicurian and fond of dishes highly relished, and fond of drinking the richest wines, in which he indulged often, but never to excess. He was indebted more to his commanding, po­sitive, and authoritative manner, than to any intrinsically superior abilities.

"Having thus given the outlines of his character, I shall only observe, that he ap­pears to have been more a philosopher than a christian: and shall then proceed to some anecdotes and circumstances which will cor­roborate my assertions, and justify my con­clusion.

"As the work of God, as it is called, was the sphere of action in which he was more particularly and conspicuously engaged, and as I have ventured to question the sincerity [Page 221]of his professions, it is proper that I should state my reasons for so doing. First then of conversion: in the methodistical sense of the word, for in the true sense, I apprehend to be neither more or less, than forsaking vice and practising virtue; but however, the methodistical sense imports quite a dif­ferent thing, and it is in that sense we shall view it. I have made it an invariable ob­servation, that Mr. Wesley, although he was often in the company of sensible men, who were capable of forming an opinion, and pre­suming to judge for themselves by the light of nature, the evidence of the senses, and the aid of reason and philosophy; but of such, he never attempted the conversion. In his own family and amongst his relations, he never attempted, or if he did attempt he ne­ver succeeded: except now and then with a semale, in whom he found a heart suscept­ible of any impression he pleased to give. It is remarkable, that even the children of Mr. C. W. were never converted—because they, and most of his relations, possessed sense enough to discover hypocrisy, and honesty enough to reject the advantage they might have derived from assuming it. But what is still more e [...]truordinary, is, that out of so many [...], who have been edu­cated [Page 222]at Kingsweed, in the most rigid disci­pline of methodisin, hardly any have em­braced their tenets, or become members of the society. The reason is pretty obvious, they were taught too much to imbibe the ridiculous prejudices the founder wished to be instilled into their minds: philosophy and methodism, are utterly incompatible. When the human mind is informed by the study of philosophy, it expands itself to the contemplation of things.

"It is true indeed, the work was some­times attended with power among the chil­dren at Kingswood. Conversions were fre­quent; but never durable. I myself was con­verted some ten or a dozen times; but un­luckily, my class leader was detected in hav­ing stolen a pair of silver buckles. This was a dreadful stroke to the work, and a glorious triumph to the wicked one. The whole fabric of faith, grace, and all its con­comitant vices, as hypocrisy, &c. &c, expe­rienced a total overthrow! The serious boys as they were called by way of eminence, fell into the utmost contempt, and ever after, the leader of a class was stiled Captain of the Gang: a convert and a thief were synoni­mous terms.

"A general conversion among the boys, was once effected, by the late crcellent Mr. [Page 223] Fletcher: one poor boy only excepted, who unfortunately resisted the influence of the Holy Spirit; for which he was severely flogged, which did not fail of the desired effect, and impressed proper notions of reli­gion on his mind. Unhappily these opera­tions of the Spirit, though violent, were but of short duration.

"As the conversion of men and women, is a more serious concern than that of chil­dren, I will describe one, to which I was an eye witness among the poor Colliers at Kingswood. One of those presumptuous and impious sanatical wretches, who assume the character of ministers of God, and take upon them in his most holy name, to de­nounce his curses and vengeance against those who are far less guilty than themselves: a fellow of this description, of the name of Sanderson, preaching to a congregation of ignorant, but harmless people; this sellow, took upon himself in the name of God, to condemn them all to eternal damnation, painting their deplorable state in the most dreadful colours: some of his hearers were soon evidently affected by this discourse, which be took care to improve, and taking the advantage of the kindling spark, addres­sed himself more particularly to them, whom he soon "made roar for the disquictude of [Page 224]their souls." The whole congregation were quickly affected in the like manner, one and all exclaimed "What shall I do to be sav­ed? Oh! I'm damned! I'm damned! I'm damned to all eternity! What shall I do? Oh! Oh! Oh! Our performer observing to what a state he had reduced his audience, redoubled his threats of divine wrath and vengeance, and with a voice terrible as thunder, demanded, "Is there any back­sliders in the presence of God?" A dead and solemn pause ensued—till he exclaimed "Here is an old grey-headed sinner:" at the fame time striking with his hand vio­lently on the bald pate of an honest old man who fat under the desk; the poor man gave a deep groan: whether from conviction, or from the pain of the blow, I know not, for it was far from being gentle. The farce was not yet concluded: when they were strong­ly convulsed with these convictions, he sell down upon his knees, and with the greatest fervency, accompanied with abundance of tears, he entreated the Lord in mighty prayer, to have compassion on the poor des­ponding sinners whom he had brought to a proper sense of their danger; the prayer continued about ten minutes, accompanied by the sighs and groans of the converted and alarmed sinners, in concert making a most [Page 225]divine harmony: when suddenly starting up he pretended to have received a gracious answer to his prayer, and with a joyful and smiling countenance, pointing towards the window, exclaimed:—Behold the Lamb! Where! Where! Where! was the cry of every contrite and returning sinner, (and they were all of that description) There! (continued the preacher, extending his arms towards the window where he pretended first to have espied the Lamb.) In Heaven! In Colo! making intercession for your sins! And I have his authority to proclaim to you — "your sins are forgiven—depart in peace."—O, my dearest brethren, how sweet is the sound of those ex [...]atic words. "Be­hold the lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world!" But could you but feel the pecullar energy, the divine force, the rapturous and cheering import of the original, your mouths would be filled with praise, and your hearts with divine joy, holy exultation, and unspeakable gratitude.— Only mark the sound of the words, even that will convey an inexpressible pleasure to your souls, "Hecca Hangus Dei! Ki dol­lit pekkaltus Monday!" The school-boys (who were seated in a pew detached from the congregation on account of their prophane and contemptuous behaviour during service) [Page 226]immediately burst into a loud laugh, on one of the congregation saying, "O the blessed man! We shall see him again on MONDAY."

In some pages following we have an ac­count of the methodist preacher's first con­verting his benefactor's daughter, and then debauching her; also of a preacher at Be­verly, in Yorkshire, that collected fifteen pounds for a poor man in great distress, and gave him only fifteen shillings, reserving to himself fourteen pounds five shillings for the trouble of collecting it, with which, and twenty pounds more he was entrusted with, he decamped the next day, to the astonish­ment of the simple on whom he had im­posed.

I wish the author as he proposes may soon give us a more particular account of the methodists, preachers, and people, and also of some of Mr. Wesley's private opini­ons, &c.

This pamphlet concludes with very curi­ous letters written by Mr. J. Wesley, and he informs us in a note that the publisher has his address in order to direct any person to the author where they may see the original letters. I here give you the whole of these extraordinary letters.

Page 50, &c.

Our author informs us that the following was written to a very amiable and accom­plished lady, some years ago. The lady was about three and twenty years of age.

I sent a person to the author of the above pamphlet, to desire him to give me a sight [Page 234]of the original of the preceding letters; but he returned for answer, that he had sent them back to the persons to whom they were written.

LETTER XXXI.

My new wise's at­tachment to books was a very sortunate cir­cumstance for us both, not only as it was a perpetual source of rational amusement, but also as it tended to promote my trade: her extreme love for books made her delight to be in the shop, so that she soon became per­sectly acqu [...]inted with every part of it and (as my stock increased) with other rooms where I kept books, and could readily get any article that was asked for. Accordingly, when I was out on business, my shop was well attended. This constant attention and good usuage, procured me many customers; and I soon perceived that I could seil dou­ble and treble the quantity of books if I [Page 235]had a larger stock. But how to enlarge it, I knew not, except by slow degrees, as my profits should enable me; for as I was al­most a stranger in London, I had but few acquaintances, and these few were not of the opulent sort. I also saw that the town a­bounded with cheats, swindlers, &c. who obtained money and other property, under false pretences, of which the credulous were defrauded, which often prevented me from endeavouring to borrow, lest I should be suspected of having the same bad designs.

I was several times so hard put to it, for cash to purchase parcels of books which were offered to me, that I more than once pawned my watch, and a suit of cloaths, and twice I pawned some books for money to purchase others; but I soon was tired of pawnbrokers, and at that time they were not so restricted, as now, in respect to interest, and thinking myself imposed on, by being charged more than was reasonable, I never redeemed the last parcel at all; for, indeed, they were books that I had bought extreme­ly cheap, so that I borrowed more money on t [...]em than they cost me, and in so doing rep [...]d myself what I had been overcharged. 'consess we were poor; but, while that is the worst our enemies can say of us, we are content."

[Page 236] Soon after I commenced bookseller, I became acquianted with what Pope calls "the noblest work of God," an HONEST man. This was Mr JOHN DENIS, an oil­man in Cannon-street (father of the present Mr. John Denis, bookseller.) This gen­tleman had often visited me during my long illness, and having seen me tranquil and se­rene when on the very point of death, he formed a favourable conclusion that I too must be an honest man, as I had so quiet a conscience at such an awful period. Having retained these ideas of me after my recovery, and being perfectly well acquainted with my circumstances, he one day offered to be­come a partner in my business, and to ad­vance money in proportion to my stock. This confidential ofter I soon accepted; early in 1778 he became partner; and we very soon laid out his money in second-hand books, which increased the stock at once to double.

I soon after this proposed printing a sale catalogue, to which, after making a few ob­jections, Mr. Denis consented. This cata­logue of twelve thousand volumes (such as they were) was published in 1779. My partner's name was not in the title page, the address was only "J. LACKINGTON and Co. No. 46, Chiswell-street." This our first [Page 237]publication produced very opposite effects on those who perused it; in some it excited much mirth, in others an equal proportion of anger. The major part of it was written by me, but Mr. Denis wrote many pages of it; and as his own private library consisted of scarce old mystical and alchymical books, printed above a century ago, many of them were in bad condition; this led him to in­sert neat in the catalogue to many articles, which were only neat when compared with such as were in very bad condition; so that when we produced such books as were cal­led neat in our catalogue, we often got our­selves laughed at, and sometimes our neat articles were heartily damned. We had also a deal of trouble on another score; Mr. Denis inserted a number of articles without the authors' names, and assured me that the books were well known, and to mention the authors was often useless. The fact was, Mr. Denis knew who wrote those articles; but was soon convinced that many others did not, as we were often obliged to produce them merely to let our customers see who were the authors: we however took twenty pounds the first week the books were on sale, which we thought a large sum. The increase of our stock augmented our cus­tomers in proportion; so that Mr. Denis, [Page 238]finding that his money turned to a better ac­count in bookselling than in the funds, very soon [...]ent the stock near two hundred pounds which I still turned to a good account. We went on very friendly and prosperously for a little more than two years; when one night Mr. Denis hinted that he thought I was making purchases too fast, on which I grew warm, and reminded him of an article in our partnership agreement by which I was to be sole purchaser, and was at liberty to make what purchases I should judge pro­per. I also reminded him of the prosits which my purchases produced, and he re­minded me of his having more money in the trade than I had. We were inde [...]d both very warm; and on my sying, that if he was displeased with any part of my conduct, he was at liberty to quit the partnership, he in great warmth replied that he would. The above passed at Mr. Denis's house in Hoxton-square, I then bade him good night. When Mr. Denis called at the shop the next day, he asked me if I continued in the same mind I was in the preceding night? I assured him that I did. He then demanded of me whether I insisted on his keeping his word to quit the partnership? I replied, I did not insist on it, as I had taken him a partner for three years, nearly one third part [Page 239]of which time was unexpired; but, I added, that, as I had always found him strictly a man of his word, I supposed he would prove himself so in the present instance and not assert one thing at night and another in the morning. On which he observed, that as he was not provided with a shop, he must take some time to look for one. I told him he might take as long a time as he thought necessary. This was in March 1780. He appointed the twentieth of May, following. On that day we accordingly dissolved the partnership; and, as he had more money in the trade than myself, he took my notes for what I was deficient. We parted in great friendship, which continued to the day of his death; he generally called every morn­ing to see us, and learn our concerns, and we constantly informed him of all that had passed the preceding day; as how much cash we had taken, what were the profits, what purchases we had made, what bills we had to pay, &c. and he sometimes lent me money to help to pay them.

At his death he left behind him in his private library the best collection of scarce, valuable, mystical, and alchymical books, that ever was collected by one person. In his lifetime he prized these kinds of books above every thing; in collecting them he [Page 240]never cared what price he paid for them. This led him to think, after he became a bookseller, that other book-collectors should pay their money as freely as he had done his, which was often a subject of debate be­tween him and me, as I was for selling eve­ry thing cheap, in order to secure those cus­tomers already obtained, as well as increase their numbers.

Mr. Denis was, at the time of his death, about fifty years of age. He informed me that in his childhood and youth he was weakly to an extreme, so that no one who knew him ever thought he could live to be twenty years of age; however he enjoyed an uninterrupted state of health for nearly the last thirty years of his life; this he as­cribed to his strictly adhering to the rules laid down by Cornaro and Tryon in their books on Health, Long Life and Happiness. His unexpected death was in consequence of a fever caught by sitting in a cold damp room.

LETTER XXXII.

IT was some time in the year seventeen hundred and eighty, when I resolved from that period to give no person whatever any credit. I was induced to make this resolution from various mo­tives: I had observed, that where credit was given, most bills were not paid within six months, many not within a twelvemonth, and some not within two years. Indeed, many tradesmen have accounts of seven years standing; and some bills are never paid. The losses sustained by the interest of money in long credits, and by those bills that were not paid at all; the inconvenien­ces attending not having the ready-money to lay out in trade to the best advantage, together with the great loss of time in keep­ing accounts, and collecting debts, convin­ced me, that if I could but establish a rea­dy-money business, without any exceptions, I should be enabled to sell every article [Page 242]very cheap. When I communicated my ideas on this subject to some of my acquain­tances, I was much laughed at and ridicul­ed; and it was thought, that I might as well attempt to rebuild the tower of Babel, as to establish a large business without giving cre­dit. But notwithstanding this discourage­ment, and even You, my dear friend, ex­pressing your doubts of the practicability of my scheme, I determined to make the expe­riment; and began by marking in every book the lowest price that I would take for it; which being much lower than the com­mon market prices, I not only retained my former customers, but soon increased their numbers. But, my dear sir, you can scarce imagine what difficulties I encountered for several years together. I even sometimes thought of relinquishing this my favourite scheme altogether, as by it I was obliged to deny credit to my very acquaintance; I was also under a necessity of resusing it to the most respectable characters, as no excep­tion was, or now is made, not even in fa­vour of nobility; my porters being strictly enjoined, by one general order, to bring back all books not previously paid for, ex­cept they receive the amount on del [...]ery. Again, many in the country found it diffi­cult to remit small sums that are below ban­kers [Page 243]notes, and others to whom I was a stranger, did not like to send the money first, as not knowing how I should treat them, and suspecting by the price of the articles, there must certainly be some deception. Many unacquainted with my plan of busi­ness, were much offended, until the advan­tages accruing to them from it were duly explained, when they very readily acceded to it. As to the anger of such, who though they were acquainted with it, were still de­termined to deal on credit only, I consider­ed that as of little consequence, from an opinion that some of them would have been as much enraged when their bills were sent in, had credit been given them.

In the first three years after I refused to give credit to any person, my business en­creased much, and as the whole of my pro­fits (after paying all expences) was laid out in books, my stock was continually enlarged so that my catalogues in the year seventeen hundred and eighty-four, were very much augmented in size. The first contained twelve thousand, and the second thirty thou­sand volumes: this increase was not merely in numbers, but also in value, as a very great part of these volumes were better, that is, books of an higher price.

LETTER XXXIII.

I Promised to give you a few remarks on purchasing manu­scripts; and as I seldom make such purcha­ses, and but rarely publish any new books, I think you may fairly credit me for impar­tiality. Nothing is more common than to hear authors complaining against publishers, for want of liberality in purchasing their manuscripts. But I cannot help thinking that most of these complaints are groundless: and that were all things considered, publish­ers (at least many of them) would be allow­ed to possess more liberality than any other set of tradesmen, I mean so far as relates to the purchasing manuscripts and copy-right.

Not to trouble you with a long enumera­tion of instances in confirmation of this assertion, I shall barely mention the follow­ing:

[Page 245] It is owing to the encouragement of booksellers that the public is possessed of that valuable work Johnson's Dictionary; and the same liberality to the doctor in res­pect to that publication, his edition of Shake­speare, and the English Poets will always reslect honour on the parties. So sensible was the doctor of this, that he asserted book­sellers were the best Mecaenas's.

The late sir John Hawkins, Dr. Cullen, the present Dr. Robertson, Mr. Gibbon, Dr. Knox, &c. &c. arc all striking instances of the truth of my observation.

As I feel a pleasure in mentioning acts of liberality wherever they occur, suffer me to quote the following passage from sir John Hawkins's Life of Dr. Johnson.

"The booksellers with whom Mr. Cham­bers had contracted for his dictionary, find­ing that the work succeeded beyond their expectations, made him a voluntary present of, I think, 500 l. Other instances of the like generosity have been known of a pro­fession of men, who, in the debates on the question of literary property, have been des­cribed as scandalous monopo [...]z [...]rs, fatten­ing at the expence of o her m [...]n [...]s ingenuity, and growing opulent by oppression."

It is c [...]id [...]ndy asserted, that the late Dr. [Page 246]Hawkesworth received six thousand pounds for his compilation of voyages, if so (and I have never heard it contradicted) I leave it to any considerate person to judge, whe­ther in paying so enormous a price, the pub­lishers did not run a great risk, when it is considered how great the expences of bring­ing forward such a work, must have been. I have also been informed that David Mal­let, Fsq. was ossered two thousand pounds for Lord Bolingbroke's Philosophical Works, which he resused.

It ought also to be considered, that fre­quently the money which is paid for the copy, is but trisling, compared with the ex­pence of printing, paper, advertising, &c. and hundreds of instances may be adduced of publishers having sustained very great losses, and many have been made bankrupts, through their liberality in purchasing manu­scripts and publishing them; and on the other hand, it must be acknowledged that some publishers have made great fortunes by their copy rights, but their number is comparitively small.

It should also be remarked that authors in general, are apt to form too great expec­tations from their productions, many instan­ces of which I could give you, but I will only produce one.

[Page 247] A gentleman a few years since shewed a manuscript to a publisher, which he refused to purchase, but offered to be the publisher if the gentleman would print it, &c. at his own expence which he readily agreed to do, the publisher then desired to know how many copies should be printed, on which the gentleman began to compute how many families there were in Great Britain, and as­sured the publisher that every family would at least purchase one copy, but the publisher not being of the same opinion, our author then said that he would print sixty thousand copies only, but added, he was afraid that another edition could not be got ready as soon as it would be wanted. However, after a long debate, the publisher prevailed on him to print only twelve hundred and fifty, instead of sixty thousand, but promised in case another edition should be wanted in haste, to make the printers work night and day in order not to disappoint the public. This work was soon afterwards published and advertised at a great rate and for a long time, but to the infinite mortification of our author, not one hundred copies were sold, not even enough indeed to pay for the ad­vertisements. In the preceding instance I am persuaded the publisher did his best to promote the sale of the work; but in gene­ [...]l [Page 248]where authors keep their own copy-right they do not succeed, and many books have been consigned to oblivion, through the in­attention and mismanagement of publishers, as most of them are envious of the success of such works as do not turn to their own account; very many just complaints are made on this head, so that I am fully of opi­nion that for authors to succced well they should sell their copy-rights, or be previ­ously well acquainted with the characters of their publishers.

LETTER XXXIV.

IT has been asked, times innumerable, how I acquired any to­lerable degree of knowledge, so as to enable me to form any ideas of the merits or deme­rits of books; or how I became sufficiently acquainted with the prices that books were commonly sold for, so as to be able to buy and sell; particularly books in the learned and foreign languages.

As to the little knowledge of literature I possess, it was acquired by dint of applica­tion. In the beginning I attached myself very closely to the study of divinity and [Page 250]moral philosophy, so that I became tolerably acquainted with all the points controverted between the divines; after having read the great champions for christianity, I next read the works of Toulmin, Lord Herbert, Tin­dal, Chubb, Morgan, Collins, Hammond, Woolston, Annet, Mandeville, Shaftesbury, D'Argens, Bolingbroke, Williams, Helve­tius, Voltaire, and many other free-thinkers. I have also read most of our English poets, and the best translations of the Greek, Latin, Italian and French poets; nor did I omit to read History, Voyages, Travels, Natural History, Biography, &c. At one time I had a strong inclination to learn French, but as soon as I was enabled to make out and abridge title pages, so as to insert them right in my catalogues, I left off for what appeared to me more pleasing as well as more necessary pursuits; reflecting that as I began so late in life, and had probably but a very short period to live (and I paid some regard to what Helvetius has asserted, viz. that "No man acquires any new ideas after he is forty-five years of age.") I had no time to bestow on the attainment of languages. I therefore contented myself with reading all the translations of the classics, and inserting the originals in my catalogues as well as I could; and when sometimes I [Page 251]happened to put the Genitive or Dative case instead of the Neminative or Accusative, my customers kindly considered this as a venial fault, which they readily pardoned, and bought the books notwithstanding.

As I have indefatigably used my best en­deavours to acquire knowledge, I never thought I had the smallest reason to be ashamed on account of my deficiency, espe­cially as I never made pretentions to erudi­tion, or affected to possess what I knew I was deficient in. Dr. Young's couplet, you will therefore think equally applicable to many others as well as myself:

I had like to have forgot to [...]nform you, that I have also read most of our best plays, and am so fond of the Theatre, that in the winter season I have often been at Drury-Lane or Covent-Garden four or five even­ings in a week. Another great source of amusement as well as knowledge, I have met with in reading almost all the best no­vels; by the best, I mean those written by Cervantes, Fielding, Smollet, Richardson, Miss Burney, Voltaire, Sterne, Le Sage, Goldsmith, and some others. And I have [Page 252]often thought, with Fielding, that some of those publications have given us a more ge­nuine history of man, in what are called Romances, than is sometimes to be found under the more respectable titles of History, Biography, &c.

In order to obtain some ideas in Astro­nomy, Geography, Electricity, Pneumatics, &c. I attended a few lectures given by the late eminent Mr. Ferguson, the present very ingenious Mr. Walker, and others; and for some time several gentlement spent two or three evenings in a week at my house, for the purpose of improvement in science. At these meetings we made the best use of our time with globes, telescopes, microscopes, electrical machines, air pumps, air guns, a good bottle of wine, and other philosophical instruments.

I cannot help regretting the disadvan­tages I labour under by having been de­prived of the benefits of an early education, as it is a loss that can scarcely be repaired, in any situation. How much more diffi­cult then was it for me to attain any degree of proficiency, when involved in the con­cerns of a large business?

LETTER XXXV.

I Thas been long since remarked, that a person may be well ac­quainted with books, or in other words, may be a very learned man, and yet remain almost totally ignorant of men and manners, as Mallet remarks of a famous divine:

The reading and studying of History, Voyages, Travels, &c. will no doubt con­tribute much to that kind of knowledge, but will not alone be sufficient. In order to become a proficient in that useful branch of knowledge, "MAN KNOW THYSELF!" [Page 254]was a precept of the ancient philosophers. But I can scarce think it possible for any man to be well acquainted with himself, without his possessing a tolerable degree of knowledge of the rest of mankind. In the former part of my life I saw a deal of what is called low life, and became acquainted with the customs, manners, dispositions, pre­judices, &c. of the labouring part of the community, in various cities, towns and vil­lages; for years past, I have spent some of my leisure hours among that class of people who are called opulent or genteel trades­men; nor have I been totally excluded from higher circles; but among all the schools where the knowledge of mankind is to be acquired, I know of none equal to that of a bookseller's shop, especially if the master is of an inquisitive and communica­tive turn, and is in a considerable line of business; His shop will then be a place of resort for men, women, and children, of va­rious nations, and more of various capaci­tics, dispositions, &c.

Would my health permit my constant at­tendance, I should prefer it, to every thing in life (reading excepted) and you may re­collect that for some years I sought no other amusement whatever.

Before I conclude, I cannot help observ­ing, [Page 255]that the sale of books in general has increased prodigiously within the last twen­ty years. According to the best estimation I have been able to make, I suppose that more than four times the number of books are sold now than were sold twenty years since. The poorer sort of farmers, and even the poor country people in general, who before that period spent their winter evenings in relating stories of witches, ghosts, hobgoblins, &c. now shorten the winter nights by hearing their sons and daughters read tales, romances &c. In short all ranks and degrees now READ. But the most ra­pid increase of the sale of books has been since the termination of the late war.

A number of book-clubs are also formed in every part of England, where each mem­ber subscribes a certain sum quarterly to purchase books; in some of these clubs the books after they have been read by all the subscribers, are sold among them to the highest bidders, and the money produced by such sale, is expended in fresh purchases, by which prudent and judicious mode, each member has it in his power to become pos­sessed of the work of any particular author he may judge deserving a superior degree of attention; and the members at large en­joy the advantage of a continual succession [Page 256]of different publications, instead of being restricted to a repeated perusal of the same authors; which must have been the case with many if so rational a plan had not been adopted.

I am informed that when circulating li­braries were first opened, the booksellers were much alarmed, and their rapid increase added to their fears, and led them to think that the sale of books would be much dimi­nished by such libraries. But experience has proved that the sale of books, so far from being diminished by them, has been greatly promoted, as from those repositories, many thousand families have been cheaply supplied with books, by which the taste for reading has become much more general, and thousands of books are purchased eve­ry year, by such as have first borrowed them at those libraries, and after reading, approving of them, become purchasers.

The Sunday-Schools are spreading-very fast in most parts of England, which will accelerate the dissusion of knowledge among the lower classes of the community, and in a very few years exceedingly increase the sale of books.—Here permit me earnestly to call on every honest bookseller (I trust my call will not be in vain) as well as on every friend to the extention of knowledge, [Page 257]to unite (as you I am confident will) in a hearty AMEN.

Let such as doubt whether the enlighten­ing of the understandings of the lower orders of society, makes them happier, or be of any utility to a state, read the following lines (particularly the last twelve) by Dr. Goldsmith, taken from his Traveller.

It is worth remarking that the introdu­cing histories, romances, stories, poems, &c. into schools, has been a very great means of diffusing a general taste for reading among all ranks of people, while in schools, the children only read the Bible (which was the case in many schools a few years ago) chil­dren then did not make so early a progress in reading as they have since, they have been pleased and entertained as well as in­structed; and this relish for books, in many will last as long as life.

I pity from my soul many poor wretches which I observe bartering away their consti­tutions, and what few liberal sentiments they may possess; rising early and sitting up late, exerting all the powers of body and mind, to get what they call a competency, no matter by what means this is effected; thou­sands actually destroy themselves in accom­plishing their grand design: others, live to [Page 259]obtain the long wished for country retrea [...]. But, alas, the promised happiness is as far from them as ever, often farther. The busy bustling scene of business being over, a vacuity in the mind takes place, spleen and vapors succeed, which increase bodily in­firmities, death stares them in the face. The mean dirty ways by which much of their wealth has been obtained make retrospect reflections intolerable. Philosophy stands aloof, nor ever deigns to visit the sordid soul. Gardens and pleasure grounds be­come dreary deserts; the miserable posses­sors linger out a wretched existence, or put a period to it with a halter or pistol.

I now sell more than one hundred thousand volumes annually. The profits of my busi­ness the present year 1791 (as near as can be computed before the expiration of it) will amount to FOUR THOUSAND POUNDS. What it will increase to I know not; but if my health will permit me to carry it on a few years longer, there is very great probabil­ity, considering the rapid increase which each succeeding year has produced, that the profits will be double what they now are.

It is now above five years since I began to [Page 260]entertain serious thoughts of going out of business on account of the bad state of health which both Mrs. LACKINGTON and myself have laboured under: but it was then sug­gested by several of my friends, that as I had about fifty poor relations, a great number of whom are children, others are old and nearly helpless, and that all had justly formed some expectations from me; therefore to give up such a trade as I was in possession of, before I was absolutely obliged to do it, would be a kind of injustice to those whom by the ties of blood I was in some measure bound to re­lieve and protect. These and other consi­derations induced me to wave the thoughts of precipitating myself out of so extensive and lucrative a business; and in the mean time I apply a part of the profits of it to maintain my good old mother, who is alive at Wellington in Somersetshire, her native place. I have two aged men and one aged woman, whom I support, and I have also four children to maintain and educate, three of these children have lost their sath [...]r, and also their mother (who was my sister) the other child has both his parents living, but they are poor: many oth [...]rs of my relations are in the same circumstances, and stand in need of my assistance.

LETTER XXXVI.

I Did not intend to trou­ble you or the public with an account of my wonderful travels, but for want of other amuse­ments, I thought that a short account of a journey might afford you some entertainment.

My state of health being but indifferent, and Mrs. Lackington's still worse, I was in­duced to try what effect a journey would produce; it being immaterial what part I travelled to; and as I had not for a long time seen my native place, and perhaps might not be furnished with another oppor­tunity, we resolved to visit it.

[Page 263] Accordingly in July last, 1791, we set out from Merton, which I now make my chief residence, taking Bath, Bristol, &c. in our way to my native place Wellington.

In Bristol, Exbridge, Bridgewater, Taun­ton, Wellington, and other places, I amused myself in calling on some of my masters, with whom I had about twenty years before worked as a journeyman shoemaker. I ad­dressed them with, "Pray Sir, have you got any occasion?" which is the term made use of by journeymen in that useful occupation, when seeking employment. Most of those honest men had quite forgot my person, as many of them had not seen me since I work­ed for them: so that it is not easy for you to conceive with what surprise and astonish­ment they gazed on me. For you must know that I had the vanity (I call it humour) to do this in my chariot, attended by my servants; and on telling them who I was, all appeared to be very happy to see me. And I assure you, my friend, it afforded me much real pleasure to see so many of my old acquaintances alive and well, and tolerable happy. The following lines often occurred to my mind:

[Page 264] At Taunton and Wellington it seemed to be the unanimous determination of all the poorer sort, that I should by no means be deficient in old acquaintance. Some poor souls declared that they had known me for fifty years (that is, years before I was born) others had danced me in their arms a thou­sand times; nay, better still, some knew my grandmother; but, best of all, one old man claimed acquaintance with me, for having seen me many times on the top of a six-and-twenty round ladder, balanced on the chin of a merry Andrew! The old man was how­ever egregiously mistaken, as I never was so precariously exalted. But that was of no consequence: all the old fellow wanted was a shilling—and I gave it him. No mat­ter (as Sterne says) from what motive. I never examine into these things. This I observed, that none of them were common beggars, but poor useful labouring people. Giving to common strollers is but encou­raging idleness and every other vice. And as small matters made many happy, I was su­premely so, to be the means of contribut­ing to their comfort. And indeed who would hesitate at being the means of diffus­ing happiness on such easy terms, and with so little trouble?

[Page 265] But to proceed with my journey. I es­teem myself peculiarly happy, on one ac­count in particular, that I undertook it; and have only to regret it did not take place sooner, as it tended to undeceive me in a matter in which I had long been in an error. The case was this: I had for seven years past suppoled that the parents of my first wise were dead; and on enquiring after them of Mr. Cash at Bridgewater, he confirmed the report. However as we passed through South Petherton, being but a mile from the place where they formerly lived, I could not help stopping to find out the time when they died, and what other particulars I could learn relative to them, but to my very great surprise, I was informed that they were both living at Newton, two miles distant. On this information I gave the coachman or­ders to drive us there, but still could scarce­ly credit that they really were alive.—But, O my dear friend, it is utterly impossible for me to describe the sensations of Mrs. Lackington and myself on entering

[Page 266] There we found—two

"Poor human ruins, tottering o'er the grave!"

The dim light on our entrance seemed a little to flash in the socket, and every mo­ment threatened to disappear forever! while their "pale wither'd hands were stretched out towards me, trembling at once with ea­gerness and age.' Never before did. I feel the full force of Shakespeare's description,

From such a state of poverty and wretched­ness, Good God, deliverevery worthy cha­racter.

The old man is ninety years of age, and the good old woman eighty. The old man's intellects are much impaired; he for a mo­ment knew me, and then his recollection forsook him. The old woman retained her senses and knowledge during the whole of the time we were with them. On inquiry I found, that what little property they had possessed had been all expended for some years.

[Page 267] Amidst this dreary scene, it was some alle­viation to learn that their pious son had gi­ven them weekly as much as he could afford from his own little family, and I have added enough to render them as comfortable as their great age can possibly admit of. But for your sake and my own, I will drop this gloomy subject; which to me proved one of the most affecting scenes that ever I ex­perienced in the whole course of my life.

During our continuance at Wellington, I one morning rode over to Black Down, on purpose to inspect an immense heap of stones on the top of the hill, strait before the town, which I remembered to have seen when a boy. The distance from Welling­ton is about two miles. Those stones cover about an acre of ground, and rise to a great height. The country people informed me with great gravity, that "the Devil brought them therein one night in his leathern apron." But the name of it, as well as the form, prove what it was. It is called Symmon's Borough or Barrow; which, you know, signifies a burial-place. I should not have taken any notice of it here, had I ever seen any Barrow of stones besides this, and five other finaller Barrows, about half a mile from the large one. The country people informed me that the devil brought the five heaps in his [Page 268] glove. I also observed the remains of a large camp near the spot. Camden has ta­ken notice of a large camp at Roach Castle, three or four miles from hence; It is strange that neither he nor Gough should take any notice of so singular a Barrow as this cer­tainly is.

I have now, sir, given you the most ma­terial circumstances of my life. And should the fine air of Merton preserve my stock of health and spirits which I have acquired in this last excursion, I intend during the sum­mer to spend a few hours in the middle of three or four days in every week in Chiswell­street, devoting the mornings and evenings to my rural retreat,

During the winter I purpose spending most of my time in town; where I hope again to enjoy the company of you, sir, and some others of our old philosophical friends.