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CHAPTER 1

THE PREACHER

“The path of the just is as the shining light, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day.” This beautiful representation receives one example of its truth in the career of the subject of our memoir. He arose at the call of God, and went forth on a path way of progressive brightness. We have seen how from his youth he looked and toiled upward; and now, the discouragements of early years left behind, like the sun surmounting the morning clouds which had threatened to obscure its light, and pouring his benefic rays on all around, the man of God comes forth to the view of the church and the world, completely furnished for his work, to shed the healing beams of truth upon myriads of minds. Mr. Clarke’s appointment to London, in 1795, opens a new era in his life; in which each successive year unfolded attributes of heart and intellect which rendered him an object of confidence and admiration. As a public instructor, we shall find him both from the pulpit and the press serving his own and coming generation s, according to the will of God. If ever a man followed out a course intended for him by Providence, it was Adam Clarke. “You will find,” says Lord Bolingbroke, (and here, for once, he wrote the truth,) “you will find there are superior spirits who can show even from their infancy, though it be not always fully perceived by others, perhaps not always felt by themselves, that they were born for something more and better: their talents denote their general designation; and the opportunities of conforming themselves to it, that arise in the course of things, or that are presented to them by any circumstances of rank or situation in the society to which they belong, denote the particular vocation which it is not lawful for them to resist, nor even to neglect.” And that is most emphatically true of a vocation to the work of the evangelist. A man who receives it, and disobeys it, never prospers. Woe is unto him if he preach not the Gospel!

But Clarke was faithful to the heavenly calling. Through toil, and storm, an d want, as well as sunshine and competence, like John the Baptist he “fulfilled his course,” and, like Paul, “kept the faith,” and won the crown.

As a preacher, Mr. Clarke was distinguished by his originality. With a mind always inclining to the dialectical, [prone toward investigating the truth] he thought clearly, and on most subjects reasoned with a conclusive force which the most obtuse could apprehend, and the most sophisticated was constrained to acknowledge. But, though a thinker on his own account, by his extensive reading he availed himself largely of the thoughts of other men, only making them in a manner his own by processes of the mental laboratory, and always reproducing them with the mint-mark of his own intellect, and in combinations which genius only is able to form. His mind thus gave back an affluent return of interest upon the principal for which, in any amount, he was indebted to others; and that, not only in the ratio of quantity, but of quality as well. He improved on what he read, and worked within the deep recesses of his mind, by the secret of an alchemy which could transmute baser metals into gold. Exercising thus the faculties with which heaven had endowed him, he did not depend on factitious aids, but gained even at the outset a standing among those nobler intellects who think for themselves, and for others too. He remarks, in one of his letters to Mr. Brackenbury “To reduce preaching to the rules of science, and to learn the art of it, is something of which my soul cannot form too horrid an idea. I bless Jesus Christ I have never learned to preach, but through His eternal mercy I am taught by Him from time to time as I need instruction. I cannot make a sermon before I go into the pulpit: therefore I am obliged to hang upon the arm and the wisdom of the Lord. I read a great deal, write very little, but strive to study.”

All the way through his long career, he was, more than most men of the pulpit, an extempore preacher. In the course of his life he wrote many sermons, which are now extant in his works; but the greater number of these give but in inadequate idea of his style and manner of preaching.

Some of them were written designedly for the press, and may be considered more as theological treatises than pulpit-orations. He wrote as a divine, but preached as an apostle. Many of his most effective pulpitefforts were achieved with no previous aid from the pen. The Rev. J. B. B.

Clarke, in the retrospect he has published of his father’s life, says “He hardly ever wrote a line as a preparation for preaching. I have now in my possession a slip of paper, about three inches long by one wide, containing the first words of a number of texts; and this was the sole list of memoranda on which he preached several occasional sermons in various parts of the country.”

Once, when on a visit at Plymouth, he preached for two hours on the great question in Acts 16:30, — “What must I do to be saved?” Several of the clergy of the place were present, and united afterwards in requesting him to publish the discourse; one offering to take a hundred copies for his congregation, another two hundred and fifty, and another five hundred. Yet he had to tell them, in reply, that he had “neither outline nor notes of the subject, nor any time to commit the discourse to writing.”

Such a habit of extempore speaking can be recommended to the imitation of but few; and these, men in whom more than common power of ready and correct speech is added to more than common stores of knowledge.

But it enabled Dr. Clarke to seize upon any passing incident and turn it to advantage, or to shift the topic of discourse, if some important object required it, without inconvenience to himself. On one occasion, after he had preached at City-road chapel, a friend remarked to him, “I could not but observe that in the sermon you seemed suddenly to quit the subject in hand, and fly off to a series of arguments in proof of the Divinity of my Saviour, with which your previous subject was not connected. Had you any reason for so doing?” “Yes,” said he: “I observed Dr. K.” (a celebrated Unitarian) “steal into the back part of the chapel; and, after a few minutes, plant his stick firmly, as if he intended to hear me out. So, by God’s help I determined to bear my testimony to the Divinity of our Lord, trusting t hat He would touch his heart, and give him another opportunity of hearing and receiving the truth.”

From time to time these free outgoings of his soul were attended by an uncommon influence, “the demonstration and power of the Spirit.” In his letters to Mrs. Clarke he mentions such occasions, not in a temper of egotistic boasting, but with a devout and wondering acknowledgment of the condescending goodness of God in so employing him. For example: — “I was obliged to preach this morning at Oldham-street. The congregation was really awful. Perhaps I never preached as I did this morning. O, Mary, I had the kingdom of God opened to me, and the glory of the Lord filled the whole place. Towards the conclusion the cries were great. It was with great difficulty that I could get the people persuaded to leave the chapel. Though the press was immense, yet scarcely one seemed willing to go away, and those who were in distress were unable to go. Some of the preachers went and prayed with them, nor rested till they were healed. God has done a mighty work.”

Again, from Bristol: — “I am this instant returned from King-street. The chapel crowded — crowded! And God in a most especial manner enabled me to deliver such a testimony, from 1 Thessalonians 1:3, as, I think, I never before delivered. I did feel as in the eternal world, having all things beneath me, with such expansions of mind as the power of God alone could give. I was about an hour and a half, and am torn up for the day.”

Mr. Clarke’s pulpit-ministrations were substantially biblical. He preached the word. Here was the secret of his power. He brought a rule to bear upon the conscience against which there was no appeal. His congregations were summoned to the obedience of faith, not in the formulas of creeds, the decrees of councils, or the sentences of the fathers, but in the Scripture which cannot be broken. He “read in the book, in the law of God, distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused them to understand the reading.”

In the “true sayings” penned by the inspired prophets and apostles, he recognized and demonstrated a revelation from God to man, and, as such, the sole canon of faith and morals. “There is nothing certain,” he used to say, “in the things which belong to salvation, but the plain word of God; no safe teacher but the Spirit of Jesus Christ; and that Spirit teaches the heart what the word teaches the understanding.” His habits of study in elaborating his Commentary had rendered him master of the entire scope a nd contents of the sacred volume, and contributed to give his ordinary pulpit-discourses a rich expository character. All his learning was brought to bear on this blessed duty, — to explain the words of God, that he might bring the people to the knowledge of the things of God. What was said respecting a prelate of former days might be affirmed of this eminent preacher: “He unfolded the grandeur of a prophecy, or the comfort of an Epistle; and alarmed the conscience, or bound up the wounded heart. He brought tidings of foreign learning to the scholar, of discoveries to the naturalist, and of manners to the people.” Thus he was the ears of the idle, gave matter for reflection to the thoughtful, and satisfaction to the inquisitive. He “taught in Judah, and had the book of the law of the Lord with him, and went about throughout all the cities of Judah, and taught the people.”

One consequence of this method was an inexhaustible variety in his preaching. The Bible contains a universe of truth; and the longest life of man becomes momentary when brought to the task of unfolding it. We have heard of a German professor who spent years in a course of lectures on the first chapter of Isaiah, and died without completing it; and we can easily conceive, that such expository preachers as Owen and Matthew Henry would review their labors with dissatisfaction, as having been employed too much, to their feeling, on the surface, without having penetrated the mysterious depths, of the solemn, solitary volume which riveted the gaze of their lives. Mr. Clarke, even in the earlier years of his ministry, adopted a method which insured a wide range of Bible subjects for the pulpit, in preaching from the Lesson, Epistle, or Gospel for the day: all which portions of the holy Book he carefully examined, marking in a large textbook the verses which drew his special attention as likely to afford topics of public address.

A preacher commanding such an amplitude of topics would always have something new. And therefore it was that Mr. Clarke’s hearers, to whatever chapel they followed him, very seldom listened to the same discourse. The late Mr. Buttress, who always accompanied him when Mr.

Clarke was stationed in London, affirmed, that he never heard him preach the same sermon twice. Reflecting thus the present exercises of his intellect, his discourses had a perpetual freshness; they came warm from the living heart, and brought life and warmth to the heart of the hearer. And that, especially, because they brought the Gospel. We have said he was a biblical preacher, in the truest sense, ever holding forth the grand evangelism which pervades the Bible, as its soul and spirit, — namely, that “God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

In making known this truth in all its solemn bearings and consequences, he was remarkable among th e ministers of his day. In the constellation of eminent preachers who moved at that time in the intellectual sky, but who have now nearly all disappeared from our sight, Mr. Clarke was in this respect a star of the first magnitude. From his rising to his setting hour, unnumbered multitudes rejoiced in his light as a witness and guide to the mercy which could save them. In his ministry Christ was all in all; the alpha and omega, the beginning and the end. He essayed to unfold the entire evangelic revelation, the whole counsel of God with respect to the way of salvation by Jesus Christ. He showed the sinner his mighty need of such a Saviour, and led him in repentance to His feet. By him “The violated law spoke out its thunders; And by him, in strains as sweet as angels use, The Gospel whisper’d peace.” “The only preaching,” he said once, in a letter to a brother minister, (and the maxim had its embodiment in his own practice,) “the only preaching worth anything in God’s account, and which the fire will not burn up, is that which labors to convert and convince the sinner of his sin; to bring him into contrition for it; to lead him to the blood of the covenant, that his conscience may be purged from its guilt; to the Spirit of judgment and burning, that he may be purified from its infection; and then to build him up on this most holy faith, by causing him to pray in the Holy Ghost, and keep himself in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. This is the system pursued by the apostles, and it is that alone which God will own to the conversion of sinners. I speak from experience. This is the most likely mode to produce the active soul of divinity, while the body is little else than the preacher’s creed. Labor to bring sinners to God, should you by it bring yourself t o the grave.

Again, to another: — “These are not only the first rudiments of heavenly teaching, but the fulness of Divine truth in reference to salvation: 1. Thou art a sinner, and consequently wretched. 2. God is an eternal, unfailing Fountain of love. 3. He has given His Son Jesus Christ to die for men. 4. Believe on Him, and thou shalt be saved from thy sins. 5. When saved, continue incessantly dependent upon Him; so shalt thou continually receive out of His fulness grace upon grace, and be ever fitted for, ever ready to, and ever active in, every good word and every good work.

This is the sum and substance of the revelation of God; and, O! how worthy it is of His infinite goodness, and how suitable to the nature and state of man! These are the simple lessons which I am endeavoring to learn and teach. This is the science in which I should be willing to spend the longest life. O God! simplify my heart.”

No man, since the apostle St. John, seems to have had more large and soulstirring views of the love of God than Adam Clarke. Here and there in his Commentary the reader will find some bursts of feeling on this grand topic, which will give an idea of the spirit and manner of the man when in the pulpit. When this mighty truth began to move in his soul, he became irresistible. The first time I had the privilege of hearing him, the text was, “God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God.” “Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” It was then that I witnessed, and felt too, how this man could master and control the entire intellect and heart of a great congregation by the simple, honest, and earnest exhibition of the faith once delivered to the saints. Ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet.

No wonder that, with this victorious sceptre of truth, the first preachers vanquished the world. We were all subdued: the tears of repentance, the uplifted eyes of prayer, the swelling emotion of triumphal joy, which longed to give itself utterance in one loud thunder of thanksgiving, all showed how powerful is the uncorrupted Gospel when preached aright.

What I then witnessed helps me to understand his meaning, when on one occasion he said, after preaching: “I would not have missed coming to this place for five hundred pounds. I got my own soul blessed, and God blessed the people. I felt,” (stretching out his arms, and folding them to his breast,) “I felt that I was drawing the whole congregation to me closer and closer, and pulling them away from the world to God.”

In expatiating on that Divine mercy “whose height, whose depth unfathomed, no man knows,” Mr. Clarke found endless resources for the conversion and comfort of the soul and heart.

The love of God,” he was wont to say, “will convert more sinners than all the fire of hell.” His confidence in the efficacy of the glad tidings, that God is LOVE, was unlimited, and lasting as his life. Thus toward the end of his days, in conversation with his dear son Joseph, he said, “After having now labored with a clear conscience for the space of fifty years, in preaching the salvation of God through Christ to thousands of souls, I can say, that is the most successful kind of preaching which exhibits and upholds in the clearest and strongest light the Divine perfection and mercy of the infinitely compassionate and holy God to fallen man, and which represents Him alike compassionate and just. Tell then your hearers, not only that the conscience must be sprinkled, but that it was God Himself who provided the Lamb.”

In the same spirit he delighted to illustrate the pleasures and advantages of a life devoted to the service of a reconciled God. The Rev. Joseph Clarke has given a good description of his father in the pulpit, which, though it takes us to a later period of life, we quote here, to render our idea of Mr.

Clarke as a preacher as complete as we can: — “The appearance of my father, and his effect while in the pulpit upon a stranger, would probably be something like this: He” [the stranger] “would see a person of no particular mark, except that time had turned his hair to silver, and the calmness of fixed devotion gave solemnity to his appearance. He spreads his Bible before him, and, opening his HymnBook, reads forth in a clear distinct voice a few verses, after singing of which he offers up a short prayer, which is immediately felt to be addressed to the Majesty of Heaven. The text is proclaimed, and the discourse is begun. In simple yet forcible language he gives some general information connected with his subject, or lays down some general positions drawn from either the text or its dependencies. On these he speaks for a short time, fixing the attention by gaining the interest. The understanding feels that it is concerned. A clear and comprehensive exposition gives the hearer to perceive that his attention will be rewarded by an increase of knowledge, or by new views of old truths, or previously unknown uses of ascertained points. He views with some astonishment the perfect collectedness with which knowledge is brought from far, and the natural yet extensive excursions which the preacher makes to present his object in all its bearings, laying heaven and earth, nature and art, science and reason, under contribution to sustain his cause. Now his interest becomes deeper; for he sees that the minister is beginning to condense his strength, that he is calling in every detached sentence, and that every apparently miscellaneous remark was far from casual, but had its position to maintain, and its work to perform; and he continues to hear with that rooted attention which is created by the importance and clearness of the truths delivered, by the increasing energy of the speaker, and by the assurance in the hearer’s own mind that what is spoken is believed to the utmost and felt in its power. The discourse proceeds with a deeper current of fervor; the action becomes more animated; the certainty of the preacher’s own mind, and the feelings of his heart, are shown by the firm confidence of the tone, and a certain fulness of the voice and emphasis of manner; the whole truth of God seems laid open before him; and the soul, thus informed, feels as in the immediate presence of the Lord.”

To this account may be appended a few lines by Mrs. Pawson, all the more appropriate as they relate to the time already reached in our biography. This lady, the wife of his venerable colleague at Liverpool, has the following memorandum in her journal: — “Brother Clarke is, in my estimation, an extraordinary preacher; and his learning confers great lustre on his talents. He makes it subservient to grace. His discourses are highly evangelical. He never loses sight of Christ. In regard of pardon and holiness, he offers a present salvation. His address is lively, animated, and very encouraging to the seekers of salvation. In respect to the unawakened, it may indeed be said that he obeys that precept, ‘Cry aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like a trumpet.’ His words flow spontaneously from the heart; his views enlarge as he proceeds; and he brings to the mind a torrent of things new and old. While he is preaching, one can seldom cast an eye on the audience without perceiving a melting unction resting upon th em.

His speech ‘distils as the dew,’ and ‘as the small rain upon the tender herb.’ He generally preaches from some part of the Lesson for the day, and on the Sabbath morning from the Gospel for the day. This method confers an abundant variety on his ministry.”

The end and aim of every sermon with him was to do good there and then.

One day, as he entered the vestry at City-road after preaching, a friend remarked, “What an admirable sermon you have preached to us this morning, sir!” “Brother,” he replied, “Satan whispered that to me as I left the pulpit. But I told him that by the mischief alone which it did to his kingdom God would judge it. I am afraid of any other good sermons than those. It is solemn work to stand up between the living and the dead!”

In style and manner, Mr. Clarke’s discourses derived no advantage from artificial rhetoric, the mellifluous [pleasing, musical, flowing] charms of elocution, or the little embellishments on which the artist in public speaking depends so much for his popularity. The harmony of cadences or the aesthetic grace with which the orator moves to group his thoughts and words so as to win the ear, and charm the sense of music in the soul, were things quite out of his line. We are not sure whether he was endowed with that kind of talent more than in a mediocre degree; but we know that he cared nothing about using it. Yet the absence of these circumstantials in no way interfered with the universally acknowledged grandeur of his ministry.

The Divine Spirit has endowed the teachers of the world with a variety of gifts. He who wrought powerfully in St. Peter to convince the Jew, conferred on St. Paul the ability to persuade the Greek. Among the great preachers of the early church, the men whose ministry shed sunlight on the ages in which they lived, we see gifts many, but all emanating from one Spirit. It was grace that sanctified their natural endowments, and made itself visible in “the serious end careful perspicuity of Athanasius,” in Basil’s refined and graceful sweetness, in the eloquence which flowed from the lips of Chrysostom like streams of liquid gold, in the self-possessed dignity of Cyprian, the power with which Hilary could drape his thoughts in tragic pomp and glory, or the vivid meditations with which Ambrosius could pierce the soul, “as with arrows dipped in honey-dew.” So, in more modern times, the thunder-storm of Luther, and the placid vigor of Melancthon, and (why not say it?) the ornate clarity of Massillon, the penetrating unction of Fenelon, and the imposing grandeur of Bossuet, all betoken His still merciful presence. In the mighty bursts of truth from Whitefield’s lips, or the tranquil, sincere, and soul-commanding evangelisms of Wesley, we hear His awakening voice. Did not He who clothes the lilies with their beauty, and spans the heavens with the rainbow, give to Chalmers the imagination by which he brought visions of truth before men’s minds like a gorgeous panorama; and enable Robert Hall to show us the river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb? Thus, too, in the pulpits of Methodism, the exuberant pathos of Bradburn, the searching fire of Benson, Richard Watson’s majesty of mind, Robert Newton’s bland and evangelic grace, and Jabez Bunting’s unaffected but beautiful and potent oratory, all display the operations of that same Spirit who, “Plenteous of grace, descends from high, Rich in His sevenfold energy,” to distribute His celestial gifts according to the counsel of His own will.

The servants of God, having these faculties differing one from another, cannot be expected every one to resemble his fellow; and though Adam Clarke may not be said to have possessed the peculiar character of any of the men we have named, yet was his pulpit-ministry distinguished by attributes which set him, in point of effectiveness, on a level with any of them, the apostles excepted. As an able critic says of Augustine, in comparison with some other of the Fathers, “he had less of beauty, but more of power, than they.” In Dr. Clarke’s preaching there was such a breadth and depth of information, such strength of feeling and fixedness of solemn purpose to save men’s souls from death, that all who heard him knew within themselves that they were face to face with a messenger from God; and while the learned and the illiterate were alike brought under the same spell, and earnestly attended to the words spoken by him, he so rightly divided and faithfully applied the word of the Lord, that the conscience of the sinner was awakened, and the contrite heart comforted, by its efficacy working in the soul.

His preaching had all the more heart in it from the experience which he himself enjoyed of the saving power of the truth. Why did the hearers feel so? It was because the preacher had felt first. He came before them fulldressed in the mantle of salvation, with his lamp burning. He told them of a mercy which he had found, and which they must seek, or perish. He told them of a Saviour who would be presently their Judge: — “Before him came, in dread array, The pomp of that tremendous day When Christ with clouds shall come:” — and, with the awful light of these revelations on his soul, he persuaded men as well by the terrors as by the compassions of the Lord. He delighted, as we have said, to set forth the mercy of God; but it was done in such a way, that the whole sermon was at once a warning to the wicked, and a voice of consolation to the repentant. And preaching as he did under the conviction that this life is the only span of opportunity for the evil and hell-condemned to obtain remission and renewal, — that, in respect to some of his hearers, life was verging on its latest hour, and that on the very moment then present hung eternity itself, — he so preached that the truth came from his own to the hearer’s heart; that attention was arrested, feeling excited; the dreamer awoke from his abstractions, the worldling felt the power of another life, the infidel insensibly believed; of the reprobate, hovering angels said, “Behold, he prayeth;” at Christ’s omniscient glance, poor backsliding Peter again wept bitterly; and, ravished at the sight of a Saviour who was dead and is alive again, another Thomas exclaimed, “My Lord, and my God!”

Thus the Gospel came not in word only, but in power and assurance, and with signs of salvation. Moses struck the rock.

In presence of these substantial and heart-satisfying powers, the auditors of Clarke forgot the want of artistic accomplishments which have contributed to make the modern pulpit sometimes attractive. A comparatively homely manner, and a voice not tuned at all times to melodious cadences, were not once thought of. He was not a mere orator.

He brought strong thoughts, and clothed them in honest words, as a means to an end. He had a purpose, and one in which you, as his hearer, had an everlasting interest. He wanted to make you a better man: he wanted to save your soul; and to do this, he sought to lay hold on you by the conscience. The ear with him was only the avenue to the heart. Unless a man has this purpose and aim, it is in vain that he draws the bow. The arrow from his hand will never find its way to the mark; or, should it chance to do so, will fall without effect, like the shaft that Homer tells of, so uselessly launched by Priam against the shield of the Grecian hero: — “This said, his feeble hand a javelin threw, Which, fluttering, seem’d to loiter as it flew; Just, and but barely, to the mark it held And faintly tinkled on the brazen shield.” But Clarke drew not the bow at a venture, and seldom without success, in one degree or another. A multitude of sinners were converted under his ministry; and, among them, not a few who have themselves been made instruments of salvation to others.

And these works and services were sustained by him for half a century of time, and over a great extent of area in the social world. Some excellent ministers are all their lives restricted to a circumscribed and narrow locality. They pass their days, by the ordination of Providence, in comparative obscurity, witnessing the truth but to a few persons, and shining as lights in dark and unthought-of places. But this man’s career was more like that of the sun when he comes forth in his strength to bathe a hemisphere in light. He went literally through the length and breadth of the land. From the Norman Isles to the ultima Thule of the storm-beaten Zetlands, he revealed the glorious Gospel of the grace of God. The English nation, one might say, knew and revered him. Men in high places, and men of low degree, in crowded cities and sequestered hamlets, alike waited for his coming, and welcomed the sound of his voice. “How beautiful upon the mountains were the feet of him that brought good tidings, that published peace; that brought good tidings of good, that published salvation; that said unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!”

One great charm, that rendered his ministry so attractive, was found in the well-known qualities of his own upright and holy life. It gives one a sacred and edifying satisfaction, to remember how finely the precepts of the Gospel which he preached harmonized with his personal character. He lived the Gospel. His doctrine and life, coincident, proved him to be at once a great and good man. His life recommended religion; and was itself a ceaseless homily of things profitable to man, and pleasing unto God. It was a life not only unblemished by glaring inconsistencies, but adorned by practical excellence; and I believe that no man could have used the words of St. Paul with less of impropriety than he: “Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there he any praise, think on these things. Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, a nd heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you.” In this respect it will be our wisdom to imitate him, considering the end of his conversation, Jesus the First and the Last. Christum pectore, Christum ore, Christum opere, spirabat.

CHAPTER 2

THE PASTOR

The vocation of the Christian minister binds him not only to labor to win souls by preaching, but also to watch over them in the services of that pastoral office which the Lord by an everlasting ordinance has established in His church. In the discharge of this solemn duty, it was Mr. Clarke’s earnest endeavor to approve himself faithful. His care was to feed the church of God, to build up believers in their holy faith, to strengthen such as did stand, to comfort and help the weak-hearted, to raise up the fallen, and to restore the wanderer. As a Methodist pastor, he conscientiously administered the discipline of which both himself and the members of his flock had alike pledged their acceptance. He considered that discipline to be perfectly scriptural in its character, and directly conducive to the edification and perpetuity of the church. In the Circuits in which he presided as superintendent, the peculiar institutions of Methodism were upheld in their vigor and integrity. Class-meeting, for example, which has afforded to so many myriads of Christ’s disciples a delightful means of brotherly fellowship, mutual improvement, comfort in trouble, and timely help in necessity, he would never see neglected without inquiry, and, if needful, remonstrance or exhortation. The value he set on this means of grace appears in the fact, that in several of the places in which he was stationed, in addition to those official visitations of the classes which devolved on him as a minister, he would have his name on some Class- Book as a private member, and meet as such, as often as opportunity served. He urged the Methodist people to make much of this peculiar advantage of their communion, and sometimes in writing a letter to a friend would throw in a memento bearing on the duty, if it were only in the simple words appended as a postscript, — “Mind your class.” So, in a letter to a captain in the navy, a Methodist, with whom he had formed an intimacy at Liverpool, as a member of the Philological Society in that town; he says: “May I ask how you get on in your classical, philological, and princely connections? Do not neglect the two former, by any means; and let the first have the first claim. We live, my friend, in a miserable world; but we may live well in it, if we look to God. I know you will be faithful to the trust reposed in you by His Majesty; but, O, be also faithful to the light and influence of the Spirit of God. Use every means of grace, and glorify God in all things. I long after my class, and doubt whether any one will let me in here. I am not sufficiently acquainted with the people yet to raise one like that in Liverpool.” This last remark refers to his success in forming a class in Liverpool of entirely new members. At the close of the first meeting, he laid down his penny (the weekly contribution) on the table, with, “There, thank God, I am once more in class.”

Thus, to another friend: “What a mercy it is that you and I are now in His fold! May God keep us both steady! Abide in Him, my dear friend, that when He shall appear, you may see Him as He is. Pray much in private.

No soul that prays much in private ever falls. Read the blessed Book; let His testimonies be your counselors, and the subject of them be your song in the night. Keep closely united to God’s people. Do not omit one classmeeting even in the year, if you can possibly avoid it. I have been now a traveling preacher upwards of twenty-four years, and yet I feel classmeeting as necessary now as I did when I began. You may think it strange to hear that I meet regularly once a week, and have done so for years. I find it a great privilege to forget that I am a preacher, and come with a simple heart to receive instruction from my leader.”

Again, farther on in life, to a brother minister: “From long experience I know the propriety of Mr. Wesley’s advice, ‘Establish class-meetings and form Societies wherever you preach and have attentive hearers: for, wherever we have preached without doing so, the word has been like seed by the way-side.’ It was by this means we have been enabled to establish permanent and holy churches over the world. Mr. Wesley saw the necessity of this from the beginning. Mr. Whitefield, when he separated from Mr. Wesley, did not follow it. What was the consequence? The fruit of Mr. Whitefleld’s labor died with himself. Mr. Wesley’s remains and multiplies. Did Mr. Whitefield see his error? He did, but not till it was too late: his people, being long unused to it, would not come under this discipline. Have I authority to say so? I have; and you shall have it. Forty years ago I traveled in the Bradford (Wilts.) Circuit, with Mr. John Pool.

Himself told me this. Mr. P. was well known to Mr. Whitefield, who, having met him on e day, accosted him in the following manner: — Whitefield: ‘Well, John, art thou still a Wesleyan?’ Pool: ‘Yes, sir. I thank God I have the privilege of being in connection with Mr. Wesley, and one of his preachers.’ W.: ‘John, thou art in thy right place. My brother Wesley acted wisely: the souls that were awakened under his ministry he joined in class, and thus preserved the fruits of his labor. This I neglected, and my people are a rope of sand.’” In cases of habitual neglect of meeting in class, Mr. Clarke hesitated at the quarterly visitation to give the accustomed ticket as the token of membership. During his residence in Manchester, he met a class one day, when a wealthy member who never came sent a guinea as his quarterly contribution. Mr. Clarke, on looking over the class-paper, and seeing how the case stood, refused the money, desiring the leader to take it back again, and request the gentleman to give him, Mr. Clarke, an interview.

As a superintendent, he superintended. In a family, a church, a kingdom, there must be a head. The proper administration of the affairs of the Circuit he considered a moral duty on his part; and a cheerful, enlightened acquiescence in every constitutional arrangement of the church, the moral duty of members, leaders, local preachers, and the other members of the official staff of a Circuit. In one place the local preachers demurred [objected] to his exclusive authority to make the Plan, and fix their appointments. To show them by a practical experiment that it was best for the superintendent to have that power, he even let them for a time or two arrange their own appointments. “Take and make out a Plan for yourselves,” said he, “and bring it to me, and I will incorporate the traveling preachers with it.” They did so, after much altercation among themselves; for they could not agree. “We soon had loud complaints from different parts of the Circuit; for those who were the least fit for certain places would g o there. The next Plan I gave them as before, and with great difficulty they planned themselves again; and then the complaints from the Circuit became louder and louder. The most pious and sensible of the local preachers saw and heard this. With the third Plan they refused to have anything to do, and confidence was restored.”

Mr. Clarke wished to see the various offices of the church filled by men whose religious qualifications would uphold their moral influence, and effectively carry out the purposes for which they had been established. A steward in a certain town had a commercial partner, who had acted in a dishonorable manner. This conduct became a topic of conversation at the leaders’-meeting, at which Mr. Clarke presided. The officer, by some remarks, intimated that he sided with his partner in what he had done. “Then,” said Mr. Clarke, “give up thy stewardship; for thou mayest be no longer steward.” Reflection led this gentleman to see that he had been wrong, and that his pastor had acted rightly. He had greatness of mind enough to acknowledge it, and was at once reinstated.

Our worthy pastor inculcated the most inflexible principles on the subject of commercial integrity. In preaching one Sunday morning, at the old chapel in Spitalfields, on the fifteenth Psalm, he laid great stress on the relative duties there laid down for the guidance of men of business. An eminent merchant who had heard the sermon overtook him on the way home, and observed, “Mr. Clarke, if what you have said today in the pulpit be necessary between man and man, I fear few commercial men will be saved.” “I cannot help that, sir,” replied he: “I may not bring down the requirements of infinite justice to suit the selfish chicanery of any set of men whatever. It is God’s law, and by it He will Himself judge man at the last day.”

But, while thus resolute and unbending in maintaining the high moralities of Christian discipline in the church, he was full of tenderness for the weak and afflicted, whether in body or mind, and knew how to blend the gravity of the pastor with the gentle love of a father and a friend. Here is a glimpse of him in the class-room, as given us by his daughter in one of her piously recorded recollections: — “My father had been preaching at Chandlerstreet (now Hinde-street); and after service had a class to meet. I accompanied him on that occasion, and was permitted to sit by him.

Addressing one present, he said, ‘You, my sister, can speak good of the Lord. You have long known that He is gracious.’ She burst into tears, and said, ‘O yes, sir; but I have been most unfaithful, and my mind has been brought into great heaviness: during my daughter’s late illness, I would not give her up.’ ‘And did your daughter die?’ ‘No, sir; she was spared to me.’ ‘Look up, my sister, and learn this lesson: God never wastes His grace by giving more than is needed. Had He purposed to take your daughter, He would have bestowed upon you the gift of resignation to meet the trial.’” To another, who was in affliction, he said, “The cloud will be dispersed by and by: though affliction endureth for a night, joy cometh in the morning.

God will not always afflict: remember His Son Jesus Christ, and fear not.

In all your afflictions He was afflicted; and He still sympathizes with you.

Often have I preached this doctrine to you; and now that you need it most, receive it heartily. He is the same God, willing to help, mighty to save. Put His friendship to the test, and you will find Him all you want, and all you wish.”

In the department of pastoral duty which relates to visiting from house to house, Mr. Clarke could not fully gratify the wishes of his heart. This, indeed, is true of the great majority of his brethren. There may be from a thousand to two thousand members under the care of two or three ministers, who are constantly engaged in the public duties they owe to a number of congregations spread over an area of many miles. Then, again, the connectional interests of the body make large demands on their time, involving, in cities and large towns, frequent attendance on committees, whose activity is necessary to the effective working, and even the existence, of several institutions of charity and religion; while the pecuniary support of those institutions frequently requires them to give up two or three days together in journeys to other Circuits to preach and speak at public meetings. There is also a necessity, in order to keep pace with the enlightenment of the age, and to maintain the confidence and respect of the public in the office of teacher, that the minister should spend some few hours a day in his own study. Then it must be remembered, that social visits are to be accomplished either by day or in the evening. But in the hours of the day, while the people are engaged in their business or labor, a visit becomes an intrusion: and, on the other hand, in the evening, when families have more leisure to receive visits, the minister is at work in his Circuit; for most of us preach or hold meetings every evening in the week. It is not with us, as with the parochial clergyman or the Dissenting minister, that, time being secured for the Sunday sermons and the one week-day lecture, several evenings in the week may be made available for visiting. We are so employed that it becomes physically impossible for us to gratify, according to our earnest desire, the social tendencies. Yet it must not be supposed, on these grounds, that the Methodist people are without pastoral care: on the contrary, no religious communion is so richly supplied with the means for the enjoyment of that privilege. Not to speak of Society meetings, in which the flock and the shepherd unite for intercourse and prayer, — or of the weekly class-meeting, in which the concerns of the soul occupy the solemn transactions of the hour, — in the visitation of the classes by the ministers at the renewal of the tickets, we believe there is more direct communication between the pastor and the member on the interests of the spiritual life, than would be had in twenty occasions in which, from the presence of other persons, (some of whom, it may be, are opposed or indifferent to religious things,) the conversation takes a more general character. In a word, so far as mere gossiping visits are concerned, the preachers have, and ought to have, but very little time. Some of them very properly avail themselves of the hour of “tea-time to exchange words of friendship with a family, and to offer such instruction as the opportunity may afford: but Mr. Clarke had (as we think, un fortunately) disqualified himself for this social enjoyment, by renouncing the use of tea, partly from a notion that the leaf itself was injurious to health, but more especially for the sake of employing the time which others spend at the tea-table in the prosecution of his studies. And this reminds us that, in Mr. Clarke’s case, it must be taken into account that he was called of God to a life at once more public, and yet more sequestered in many of its hours, than that of many of his brethren.

It was his vocation not only to teach with the living voice, but through the medium of the press; and the hours spent by him in earnest, laborious, and life-consuming studies, have given forth their results in those voluminous and imperishable works by which, though dead, he yet speaks, and will continue to be the instructor of distant generations. When we survey the massive labors of his pen, and call to mind the active and energetic character of his oral ministry, the wonder is how he could accomplish all this; and that wonder increases when we see that in the general routine of pastoral business he would not permit himself to be behind his colleagues.

Though he had no relish for gossip, and was intolerant of the waste of time, yet in visiting the sick and afflicted of his flock he was among the foremost. He adhered to the letter of “the Twelve Rules,” to which, as a preacher, he had pledged his obedience, desiring “never to be unemployed,” and “always to go to those who wanted him most.” Had he then time for some visits ? He would hasten to the house of mourning rather than to that of festivity, and with the poor and the needy he would share his last sixpence. It was his care to do good as well to the body as to the soul. His knowledge of medicine enabled him to give continuous relief to many a sufferer. While in Dublin, be attended the lectures on Anatomy and Materia Medica, which supplemented a large amount of knowledge he had acquired of the healing art by extensive reading and observation; and all this he turned to account in many a chamber where disease and poverty were the joint inmates. In cases, however, of a critical nature, he sought aid for t he sick poor from professional men, of whom there were many in the circle of his own friends. At Manchester and other places he became acquainted in this way with most of the faculty. In the former city Dr. Eason was much attached to him. He told Mr. Clarke that he liked to attend the Methodist people in their last labors, — “they died so peacefully.” From what I have read in manuscript letters, written in later years by the subject of our memoir, that eminent physician himself found unspeakable benefit to his own soul from the intercourse to which allusion has just been made.

Mr. Clarke was once sent for by a person in dying circumstances, who proved to be a gentleman who had been awakened under a sermon of his some time before, and who, though then in much penitential trouble, had not yet found rest for his soul. The minister heard the recital of his anxieties, and formed so good an opinion of his case as to wonder that he had not already received some comforting token of the Lord’s forgiving grace. In giving such counsel as he thought to be required, he intimated to the gentleman a surprise that there was some important act of duty from him to God or man which he was knowingly neglecting. Whereupon the dying man related that, in sailing some years before from a foreign port to England, he land by way of frolic secreted a small bag of dollars which had been committed to the captain’s care, but which had been carelessly allowed to be day after day upon the locker. At the end of the voyage, the captain making no inquiries for the bag, it was still detained, and several months elapsed before anything was heard concerning it. At length, the parties for whom the money was designed, having received notice of the fact, applied to the captain, who candidly acknowledged that he took it on board, but added that he could give no further account of it. By this time the person in whose hands it was became alarmed, and was ashamed to confess, lest his character should suffer; and so he hid the property. The poor captain was sued for the amount, and, having nothing to pay, was thrown into prison, where, after languishing for two years, he died. The guilty person now strove to banish all thought of the misery which he had occasioned, and to drown the voice of conscience by business and amusement. But it was all in vain; and, especially from the time when he heard Mr. Clarke preach, he had suffered great disquietude of mind. He had agonized at the throne of mercy for pardon, but he could obtain no answer, and he feared he must go down to the grave unpardoned, unsaved. The minister inculcated the necessity of restitution. The sum, with compound interest, was paid to the widow of the captain. The poor man thereupon found tranquillity of mind, and expired at length in the enjoyment of the mercy of God.

Wherever Mr. Clarke found genuine piety, it had an attractive charm, which drew his steps again and again to the humblest abode. He had, in fact, some of his chief favorites among the truly religious poor. In visiting the simple-hearted members of his flock Mr. Clarke made himself at home with them, entered into their affairs, and showed them that he could not only understand their joys and sorrows, but feel with them. He liked also to eat a mouthful of their food, as a token of friendship. “I always eat with people,” said he, “either breaking a piece from off a biscuit or cutting a crust from a loaf, to show them that I am disposed to feel at home among them; for, even if they are very poor, there are many ways of returning the kindness without wounding the feelings of the party by whom the hospitable disposition is manifested.” So he has been known to eat two or three potatoes in a cottage, and give a shilling pleasantly for each one of them. His visits were designedly short. He was aware that a lengthened stay might inconvenience the family, and spoil the good effect of the interview. He did not, therefore, as he once termed it, “make a dose of himself where he went,” or turn what he wished to be an agreeable visit into a disagreeable visitation.

But in [being] the genial friend he never forgot [to be] the pastor, but reproved, exhorted, gave counsel, and offered consolation, as the case demanded; while among intelligent young people he would bring out of the stores of his classical and eastern reading in example, an anecdote, or an illustration, which gave additional interest and force to the precept he wished to inculcate. Thus: — THE DIVINE MERCY OUR ONLY REFUGE It was once demanded of the fourth khalif, Aalee: “If the canopy of heaven were a bow, and the earth were the cord thereof; if calamities were arrows, and mankind were the mark for them; and if Almighty God, the Tremendous and Glorious, were the unerring Archer; to whom could the sons of Adam flee for protection?” The khalif answered, saying, — “The sons of Adam must flee unto the Lord.”

THE HASTY SHOULD GIVE THEMSELVES TIME

The philosopher Athenodorus, who had long resided in the court of Augustus, petitioned the emperor to allow him at length to retire to some quiet retreat, where he might end his days in solitude and peace. The request was granted, and on taking leave of the emperor he ventured to give his sovereign the following precept: — “Caesar! I have an advice to give thee: Whensoever thou art angry, take heed that thou never say or do anything until thou hast distinctly repeated to thyself the twenty-five letters of the alphabet.” “Athenodorus!” exclaimed the emperor, seizing his hand, “thou must not leave me; I have still need of thee.”

CORRUPTING BOOKS

Reference being made to a work, the general tendency of which was bad, though it contained many well-written and brilliant passages, and one of these being quoted with admiration, Mr. Clarke said: “The Persian poet Hafiz borrowed the first couplet of his Divan from an Arabic poet of disreputable morals. His friends wondered at it, and some remonstrated.

Hafiz vindicated himself by saying that the lines contained a fine sentiment; to which one of the objectors replied, ‘ The lion would disgrace himself were he to snatch a bone from the mouth of a dog!’ “ Mr. Clarke urged upon his people the necessity of a thorough conversion, and a constant effort for moral improvement; of all that is implied in working out our salvation, while God works within to will and to do. “Remember,” he would say, “that the power that cleanses is needed to keep us clean. It is by Christ dwelling in our hearts by faith that we are preserved in holiness; and He dwells in the heart of those only who are lovingly obedient to His voice. Obedience to the will of God is the very element in which the Christian should live. Seek out His commandments till you find none left; seek to do them at all times, and in all places. How blessed to do this!” “You tell me,” said he to one, “that God has opened your eyes: can you tell me that He is keeping them open?” So, not only as when present, but when absent also, he bore in mind those whom he had once served in the Gospel. Some of his letters are thoroughly pastoral.

Here is an extract from one, written to a lady who was mourning the loss of her husband: — “I am well aware that grief like yours can be alleviated by God alone; but it must increase the distress of your situation to find a former friend careless or unaffected. God condescended to make me a messenger of peace to your dear husband; and how much I loved him, you, and every branch of your family, it is impossible for me to tell. My love was such that your joys overjoyed me, and all your troubles deeply affected me If it be now impossible for me to comfort you, it is as much so for me not to sympathize with you But the good, the merciful God needs no entreaty to come in to your assistance. He is the Fountain of endless love. He knows what He has called you to pass through; and, as He has ordained the trial, so has He the measure of strength necessary to support you under it. Yes, my dear sister, He loves you, and will never leave you, no, never forsake you He spared your dear husband, that he might know His name and receive His salvation; and then, perceiving the evil that was in his way, and perhaps would have proved his ruin, He has taken him to Himself from the evil to come. This we are always authorized to say in such cases, as we are fully assured God does all things well, and never willingly afflicts the children of men And what a wonderful and encouraging saying is this, — ‘ Thy Maker is thy Husband!’ and He is thy husband’s God. Then, my sister, if you cannot as yet rejoice, you can submit to His will, and confide in His mercy, knowing that this also, distressing as it is, will work for your good “A few days ago I was called to visit a family in distress. One child was dead; the father was just put into his coffin, and the mother expired a few moments after I went in. Things are never so ill, but they might be worse. May your father’s God, and the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, be your comfort and support, and save you and yours unto eternal life!”

In his Commentary on the New Testament, we often meet with sentiments and precepts relating to the pastoral office, which were evidently transcribed from an imprint which the Divine hand had made on his own heart, and which it was the study of his life to carry out into practice. “Here,” writes he, “is the difference between the hireling and the good shepherd. The hireling counts the sheep his own no longer than they are profitable to him; the good shepherd looks upon them as his, so long as he can be profitable to them.” “A good shepherd conducts his flock where good pasturage is to be found, watches over them while there, brings them back again, and secures them in the fold. So he that is called and taught of God feeds the flock of Christ with those truths of His word which nourish them unto eternal life, and God blesses together both the shepherd and the flock; so that, going out and coming in, they find pasture.”

We will now resume our narrative. Mr. Clarke was about to enter upon a vast field of ministerial labor in the metropolis. He went into it trusting alone in God, whose present Spirit could be his only sufficiency. To save one soul from hell, or to guide one man from earth to heaven, is a task to which no mere human wisdom or work is adequate. But he who hears the voice which says, “Lo, I am with you alway, even to the end of the world,” will go about it in the strength of the Lord, making mention of His righteousness, even His only. Such was the frame of mind in which this single-hearted and faithful servant of the Lord endeavored to discharge the trust conferred by Him who in His providence had led him to the work, and by His grace had endowed him with those heavenly gifts which qualified him to do it, — “A prophet’s inspiration from above, A teacher’s knowledge, and a Saviour’s love.”

CHAPTER 3

THE PREACHER AND PASTOR CONTINUED

At the present time the Methodist communion has nine metropolitan Circuits; but in the year 1795, when Mr. Clarke received his appointment from the Manchester Conference, the whole of London, and much of the surrounding country, formed but one vast Circuit. It extended, in fact, from Woolwich to Twickenham, and from Edmonton to Dorking, with occasional visits to various outlying places, as Barking, St. Alban’s, &c.

There were about four thousand members in Society. The superintendent was Mr. Pawson; and Mr. Clarke’s other colleagues were Messrs.

Wrigley, West, Griffith, and Reece. His residence in John-street, Spitalfields, adjoined the chapel. Here he resumed, with greater intenseness than ever, the labors of his devoted life for, in addition to the great physical and intellectual efforts demanded by his pulpit and pastoral work, his mind was now beginning to put forth its strength in those literary toils which in their results have given him an abiding name. All his past studies had been but preparatory; and from the stores he had been accumulating, he felt it a law of God in his conscience to bring forth out of his treasury things new and old,” for the increase of learning, and the promotion of truth and piety among men. And more especially were his energies concentrated, in the study, on the elaboration of a Commentary on the holy Scriptures, to which he applied all the leisure time he could command; and this, from the very nature of his public engagements, could be only found in the early part of the day. One of Mendelssohn’s works has the title of Morning Hours;” and we are sure that Adam Clarke might have given a similar designation to the goodly array of volumes with which he has enriched our religious literature. We have in them the first fresh thinkings of his mind, — dew-drops glittering in the orient sun, or manna gathered in the prime. He knew that, unless the early time of the day were redeemed, his life would yield but little fruit in the field of literature. He became, therefore, a companion of the morning star. Later in the day he had to meet the calls of one duty after another, till it was time to take his accustomed journey for the pulpit and class-work of the evening. His duties in this last respect took him to various parts of the town, and places in the suburbs lying miles away from home. He either could not or would not avail himself of any means of conveyance; But usually performed his journeys on foot, except when appointed to Dorking. In this way, during his three years’ stay in the Circuit, he walked more than seven thousand miles. In these perambulations, he had an almost constant companion in Mr. Buttress, one of the leading Methodists of the Spitalfields chapel; whose name, as maintained by his descendants to the present day, is honorably cherished in the communion to which they have been steadfast. Wherever Mr. Clarke was seen in the pulpit, Mr. Buttress was to be found in the pew. He, of all men, would be prepared to give an opinion as to the monotony or manifoldness of his friend’s ministrations; and his testimony goes to affirm, that Mr. Clarke’s preaching was remarkable for its endless variety. To one who asked him whether he did not become tired with hearing the same discourses so often, he gave the reply, that he had never heard the same discourse twice, except on one occasion, when it was repeated at his own request. “Well,” returned the inquirer, “if you did not hear the same text, did he not take the same subject?” “No,” said Mr. Buttress, ‘not anything beyond the broad Gospel of Jesus Christ.” The results of these well-sustained exertions can only be unfolded in the final day. In the case of a Methodist minister, who co-operates with so many others in the same pulpit, it becomes peculiarly difficult to pronounce upon the measure of good effected by the ministry of one alone. No doubt, each of those good men, who labored so cordially in word and doctrine, had seals to his own ministry; and all of them enjoyed the solemn gratification of witnessing the progress of the work of God in their Circuit at large. Mr. Clarke did not long prosecute his work in London before he was cheered by the tokens of the Holy Spirit’s presence and grace in the gathering in of some who were the firstfruits of a more extensive harvest. Among these were two, whose conversion to God was productive of consequences of everlasting benefit to many more.

Mr. Joseph Butterworth, an opulent law-publisher in London, had married Miss Anne Cooke, the sister of Mrs. Adam Clarke. Mr. Butterworth, though the son of a Baptist minister, (author of a well-known Concordance to the Holy Scriptures,) was not, at that time, a decidedly religious man, nor under any influences which would prepossess him in favor of Methodism. Still, as Mr. Clarke was his brother-in-law, though personally unknown to him, he felt a sort of curiosity to hear him. The effect the sermon had upon him led Mr. B. to hasten the fulfillment of a purpose to call on him, and to seek a personal acquaintance. He accordingly went the next day with his lady to Spitalfields. Mrs. Butterworth had not seen her sister for years, as, from the disinclination Mrs. Cooke had entertained for her daughter’s marriage with Mr. Clarke, but little intercourse had obtained between the families. These old things, however, were now passing away, and the two sisters were enabled to renew the friendship of their earlier day s under the sanctifying benedictions of religion. Learning that Mr.

Clarke was going to preach that evening at Leytonstone, Mr. Butterworth offered to accompany him.

On the road Mr. Clarke soon perceived that the mind of his brother-ia-law was awakened to serious inquiry about the way of salvation; and the little