CHAPTER 1

THE ELDER REVERED IN THE CHURCH

Time glides on, and moves so insensibly that the shadows of the departing day come on many of us unawares. The lapse of years beguiles man of his strength, as the autumnal winds rob the woods of their foliage. The change may be slow, but it is sure; and the process, imperceptible for a while, becomes apparent enough in its effects.

But he who enjoys the faith and hope of the Gospel is not dismayed by these tokens of decay: he connects them with the purposes of the unalterable Will which decrees that in this way man shall throw off what is corruptible in his nature, that mortality may be swallowed up of life. The Divine pledges of this blessed consummation fill him with expectations which contribute to render the latest days of his earthly life the most serene. He gives himself to the work of preparation, and waits. Meanwhile all is tranquil. What Jean Paul Richter says of himself in his last days, the Christian ought to say without misgiving: “I make ready for my journey, and take leave of the many companions I have loved. Strangely mingles the future with the present in my soul, while maturity passes away into age.

Nevertheless the cloudless evening sky spreads itself out in roseate glory.” So it was with Adam Clarke. His last days were his best. “Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace.” In resuming our narrative, we must remind the reader of the pressure of bodily infirmity brought on by excessive exhaustion, under which Dr. Clarke was obliged to write these admonitory words: — “Matters are come to this issue: if I do not at once get from many of my avocations, I shall soon be incapable of prosecuting any. I must hide my head in the country, or it will be shortly hidden in the grave.” It was in this time of extreme necessity that Providence opened the way to such a retreat, in which he could repair for a time his wasted constitution, without ceasing altogether from those mental and religious activities which had become essential to his enjoyment of life. Millbrook, a compact little estate about ten miles from Liverpool, was offered to him on conditions so liberal, and accompanied with such munificence on the part of the proprietor, that he was enabled to make it his own; and thither, after some time spent in rebuilding the house he repaired with his family in September, 1815.

His frame of mind on this occasion is intimated in a letter to Mr. Boyd, in which he says: — “That I shall leave London, as a place, without regret, I am certain; but it will not be so with respect to many who are in it. I do not like to be put out of the way of old friends; and, as to forming new ones, that is nearly out of the question. So I must take care to keep up a good understanding with myself, which I cannot do without being on good terms with my God; and on those terms I cannot be, without having at all times a conscience sprinkled with the atoning blood.” “This new arrangement in his temporal condition did not interrupt Dr. Clarke’s public relation to the Methodist ministry. His name stood on the Minutes as one of the preachers of a neighboring Circuit, in which he fulfilled the duties assigned him; lending, too, his powerful aid to the interests of Methodism in various parts of the country. At home, he revived the habits of his youth in horticulture and the tillage of the field, to the great improvement both of the property he had purchased, and of his own health in body and mind. Nor was he inattentive to the moral culture of the neighborhood. The rustic people among whom his lot was now cast were, most of them, nominally Roman Catholics, ignorant, poor, and ill cared-for. He lost no time in preparing a small chapel contiguous to his house, where the Gospel was preached in plain words, and in a friendly, loving spirit; and this means of usefulness was supplemented by a Sunday-school, attended by both Protestant and Romanist children who were instructed by the members of the family, aided by the mistress of the Village-school. In time, the good effects of these measures were shown in the moral and domestic improvement of the neighborhood.

Dr. Clarke had that year been requested by the President, the Rev. John Barber, to preside at the Irish Conference; and upon the death of that good and upright man, which occurred suddenly in the course of the year, the leading ministers of the Connection united in urging the Doctor to undertake the mission which their departed friend had assigned him. He complied with this request, and went, in June, by way of Scotland. His visit to the Irish brethren at this Conference proved unusually important, as a juncture had occurred in their affairs in which his influence and counsel were of the greatest service. The Irish Societies had been much disturbed on the old question of the Lord’s Supper in their own chapels Many of the trustees continued adverse to this practice, and were disposed to use all the legal power they had, to prevent it. Two documents of an intimidating tone had been sent into the Conference; one from the attorney-general, and another, expressed in strongly threatening terms, from the trustees themselves. Dr. Clarke dispelled the fears which these menaces had produced in the minds of some of the preachers; and the issue of a long debate was a vote that the wishes of the Societies for the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper from their own ministers should be complied with. Several points in the address Dr. Clarke gave on this occasion are of consequence in relation to Methodism in its widest range. For example: — “1. Mr. Wesley had no plan, except that of following the openings of Providence: had he followed a plan, it would have been of man, and not of God. Our doctrine is from the revelation of God, and our discipline likewise. Mr. Wesley was only the instrument. “2. In following Providence, Mr. Wesley was compelled to do many things opposed to his prejudices: — these, I well know, were of the High Church character. It was according to his great principle of action that he ordained Dr. Coke for America, as he did others for Scotland.

He foresaw that the Methodists would be a great people, and therefore ordained preachers to keep up the spirit of the Church of England: but Providence never intended, that any individual should be a successor to Mr. Wesley When he died, Dr. Coke came to Dublin, to put himself at the head of the Irish Methodists but he, (Mr. Clarke,) being then in Dublin, opposed it. On the same subject there was in England a competition between Dr. Coke and Mr. Mather which was overruled by the appointment of District Meetings. “3. The introduction of the sacraments originated in the demands of the people. They urged them at the British Conference. By not yielding to their earnest entreaties, we sacrificed too many members. When the Plan of Pacification was at length made, (by which the sacraments were introduced under defined conditions,) the consequences were blessed ones. 4. As to the then present state of Methodism, Dr. Clarke stated that he was competent to judge of its spirituality and prosperity. “I have been twice President of the British Conference; and in the grand climacterical year of Methodism all its great offices were in my hands. I had access also to government, knew its sentiments of Methodism, and had full evidence that it had not lost its character or influence. I have met more classes in my Circuit than any other man, and have seen no loss of spirituality. — I will not make invidious comparisons between the Methodists in England and Ireland; in both they are the children of my God and Father: but this I will say, from perfect acquaintance with the subject, that they have in England more grace and more stability since the introduction of the sacrament than before.”

And with more particular reference to the Irish preachers, he added: — “I have had access to the inmost archives of the State, (on affairs relating to Ireland,) where their characters were properly appreciated. In a particular conversation which I had with Lord Sidmouth and Mr. Perceval, they spoke most honorably of their usefulness in the time of the Rebellion. They have been bulwarks to the Church itself against the attacks of Popery and other enemies.

In relation to these matters, Dr. Clarke wrote about this time: — “I know Methodism better than any man in Ireland; and can say that preaching in Church-hours, and the sacraments from the hands of our own preachers, have been marked by the most distinguished approbation of God. The Methodists in England are a thousand times more attached to the Church of England and her service than they ever were before; and the method which we were before taking to drive them to the Church, was driving them, and is now driving those of Ireland, into Dissenting congregations. Our usefulness to the Church is now greater than ever.”

In parting with the Conference, he urged the Irish ministers to be steadfast and unmoveable as to the ground they had now taken with respect to the sacraments. “My advice to you all is, Look up to God, and keep close together: never think of measuring back your steps to trustee-craft again.

Give up the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, when you go to drink the new wine in the kingdom of God. Let neither fear nor flattery induce you to it one moment sooner. Had you had it twenty years ago, you would have been doubly more numerous, and doubly more holy. God has broken your chain: if you mend it, or suffer others to do so, you will have His curse. If the genuine Methodists of Ireland stand fast in their fiery trial, God will make you both great and glorious. Look for your help from Him.

Do not suppose that any man’s money is necessary to the support of Christ’s cause; for ‘the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof.’” In the course of the year 1818, Dr. Clarke was actively engaged In several parts of the country in opening chapels, preaching anniversary sermons, and helping the cause of foreign missions by setting their claims before assemblies who gathered in successive thousands, attracted both by the goodness of the object and the celebrity of the advocate. While he was in London at the anniversary of the Wesleyan Missionary Society this year, an incident occurred which was fraught with a lasting satisfaction to his mind, — his compliance with a request, made to him by some eminent persons, to take under his care and instruction two Indian priests, who had come to England in quest of the knowledge of the true God and of His Christ. “While on the platform,” says he, in a note to Mrs. Clarke, I received a letter from Sir Alexander Johnstone, then within sight of land, on his return from the Island of Ceylon; and in about half an hour another note was handed to me from the same gentleman, stating his actual arrival, and adding a wish to see me as soon as possible. On the following day I had an interview with him, when he told me that he had brought with him two high-priests of Buddhoo, who had left their country and friends, and put themselves before the mast, exposing themselves to all kinds of privations, in order to come here to be instructed in the truths of Christianity; that he had paid their passage, but, in order to try their faith and sincerity, had kept them in the meanest place, and at the greatest distance from himself, during the whole voyage.”

It appears that Sir Alexander was at that moment in uncertainty as to what was to he done to give these young men the protection they needed, combined with that teaching, in the hope of receiving which they had encountered the terrors of the great deep. He asked the Doctor’s advice. “I think,” was the reply, “our missionary committee will take them; but if not, I will, do honor to their motives, trust in the Lord, and take the whole burden upon myself.” This gave great satisfaction to Sir Alexander, who assured him that he should not bear the burden alone. The Doctor writes: — May 10th. — I have today received the two priests from on board the vessel at Blackwall, and will give you a little description of them.

Munhi Rathana is twenty-seven years of age, and has been high-priest eight years. He was educated, as was the other, from youth, for the priesthood. Dherma Rama is twenty-five years old, and has been between six and seven years in the priesthood. They are cousins about five feet six inches, and quite black; they have fine eyes, regular features and the younger, a remarkably fine nose, There is a gentleness and intelligence in their faces which greatly impressed me. Their hair, which is beginning to grow, (for, as priests, they are always shaven,) is jet-black. Their clothing is imposing in appearance. It consists of three parts: a sort of tunic of brocade, with gold and silver flowers; upon this they have a sash, that goes round their waist; and, over the whole, a yellow garment They have now European shoes and stockings. One of them has a screen made of silk, to which there is a massive handle of ivory. This, as high-priest, he used in the temple before his face, while performing the recitations from their sacred books. They eat sparingly, but refuse nothing placed before them of solid food, and take no fluid but milk or water.”

The missionary committee wished to put them entirely under the Doctor’s care. He accepted the charge, took them to Bristol, where he had to preach for the missions and then conducted them to Millbrook. The characteristics of these two Asiatics, under the immediate observation of the Doctor for nearly two years, were such as engaged his affection, and called forth expressions of unequivocal approval. “It will give you satisfaction,” says he, writing to the committee, “to know that they behave well, and are gentle and submissive.

They are very diligent in their studies, and have an insatiable thirst for knowledge, particularly religious knowledge, as well as for reading and writing English; which is of vast importance, as I am satisfied that the English language, under God, is the key of their salvation. They are both men of erudition in their way, with, as far as I can judge, a commanding eloquence. They are deeply read in the ethics of the Brahmin and Buddhoo systems. In these respects their acquirements are immense. I have myself read some works of this kind; and, well knowing the subtle and specious reasons which both those systems can bring forth in behalf of their ethics and philosophy, I do not a little wonder at the subjection of these men’s minds to the truths of the Gospel. I see them at the feet of Christ.”

After a residence of twenty-two months at Millbrook, in the course of which Dr. Clarke had become entirely sure of their sincerity, and satisfied with their proficience in the truths of Christianity, he complied with their solemn request, and admitted them to the sacrament of of baptism. This took place in the presence of an immense congregation in Brunswick chapel, Liverpool, on Sunday, March 12th, 1820. After the Liturgy, the Doctor, before proceeding to the ordinance, gave an account of the previous life of the two catechumens, and detailed such circumstances of their recent studies and experience as had satisfied him that they were now fully eligible for admission to the privileges of the church by the rite about to be administered. He then left the desk, and went to the font, where they were standing. The congregation joined in the hymn, — “Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, In solemn power come down,” &c.

When the Doctor came to the lines, — “See these sinful worms of earth, Bless to them the cleansing flood,” had his hands upon their heads; the two priests burst into tears, and the whole assembly seemed to feel, in death-like stillness, that the power of the Highest was indeed overshadowing them. The for office of the baptism of adults was then recited with heartfelt fervor; the elder candidate receiving the name of Adam Sree Goonah Munhi Rathana; and the younger, that of Alexander Dherma Rama.

During the service, the latter, who, through fear of death, had long been subject to bondage, had that fear entirely removed; and the elder, Adam, on returning to his room, fell prostrate on the ground, and spent a long time, weeping, in prayer and praise.

A few weeks after this event, having completed the purpose for which they had come to England, they grew anxious to return; and arrangements were made for that object. One thing ought not to be omitted, as showing their disinterested sincerity: they declined to receive presents. Among other offerings, Mr. Sherburn, of the plate-glass manufactory at Ravenhead, sent them two fine toilette-glasses. They admired them, but were silent. Dr. Clarke spoke to them pointedly of the kindness and attention of Mr. Sherburn in making them the presents; when Dherma, after some hesitation, said, “We are obliged to Mr. Sherburn, but we will not have them. We came to England without money, without goods, without clothes, except our priests’ garments: we will take nothing back with us, but one coat apiece, the Gospel of Jesus Christ and the books you have promised us; — No, if God give it,” (i. e., assist us,) we will take no presents: we will receive nothing but the Gospel of Christ; for that alone we came.” They returned to Ceylon in company with Sir Richard Ottley, (who was going out to that island as judge,) carrying with them the devout and loving wishes of their revered friend, who gave expression to the solidity of his good opinion of them in a formal certificate, which was accompanied by an official letter, on the part of Lord Bathurst, addressed in their behalf to the authorities in Ceylon.

Some months after, Dr. Clarke received from them the intelligence of their safe arrival. “My dear father,” writes the elder, Adam Rathana, “I am here, comfortable and happy: however, I will tell you my good generally. Since we sailed from England, we have every Sunday had prayers, and sometimes a sermon: every morning and evening we have met in Sir Richard’s cabin to read the Bible and pray; at times some of the other passengers have joined. We have three Sundays had the Lord’s Supper: indeed, my mind sometimes rejoices concerning my soul. “Every day Judge Ottley orders us to go to him for improvement; indeed, by his teaching we have got great knowledge: — also he is very kind to us. Your book teaches us great knowledge: he talks to us out of it, and my mind is greatly satisfied with him all the time On the 30th of October we arrived at Colombo: the governor very kind to me, and put me under the Rev. Dr. S_____, who came from England, colonial chaplain. With him I study Christian religion, and I hope in a short time to be able to preach the salvation of Jesus Christ. When I was with you, I told you, I wish to have some power to preach the Gospel to heathen people. My wish, I thank God, He has done for me; I have now exceeding happiness in receiving this great blessing. My dear father, I will never forget you. You cut me off some of your hair, and, when I think of you, I take it in my hand, and, seeing that, my mind is full of sorrow, wanting you. My daily prayer is for you and your family.”

The subsequent life of these cousins gave good evidence of their truehearted establishment in the faith. The elder devoted himself to the service of the Church, and received an appointment as a chaplain; and the other adopted the life of a civilian, and became a mohunderam or inferior magistrate. I met only lately, in a periodical of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, with an extract of a letter from the present bishop of Colombo, who mentions the pleasing fact that a son of the elder had just then been ordained a deacon of the Church. His lordship says: “It was gratifying to me last Sunday to admit to the diaconate another native laborer, after a probation of more than three years, in the service of the Society, at Badulla, under the Rev. E. Mooyart, of Newera Ellia. His name is George Adam Rathana. He is the son of a converted Buddhist priest, who was some years ago conveyed to England by the late Sir A. Johnstone, and confided to the care of Dr. Adam Clarke for Christian education. I h ave known him long, having received him as the first divinity student in St. Thomas’s College, where he gained the esteem and confidence of all.”

Reverting to the tenor of Dr. Clarke’s life at Millbrook, we find him celebrating the coronation of King George IV by a kind of domestic fete with his family and their neighbors. “We brought all our tenants together, even to the least of their children, and gave them a dinner. They ate a world of beef, pies, pudding, and cheese, besides half-a-bushel of currants and cherries. To our work-people I also gave a holiday, and paid each man his day’s wages: and, when all was over, I gave each child a penny; all above eight years old, a sixpence; and to every grown person, a shilling. We sang and prayed, and afterwards I dismissed them. They were as happy as they could be. Our union-jack was flying all day: at sunset we struck our flag, and heartily prayed, morning, noon, and night, for the king.”

The Conference had voted a loyal Address to the new monarch, and Dr. Clarke was appointed to negotiate with the Home Secretary about the time and manner of presenting it. Lord Sidmouth informed him that the Address might be presented at a levee [archaic an assembly of visitors or guests, esp. at a formal reception], by a deputation, or by an individual. As such an opportunity was unlikely to occur for some months, his lordship kindly offered to lay it himself before His Majesty, taking occasion to remark in the same letter that he knew “the influence of the Wesleyan Methodists to be extensive.”

In February, 1821, died that great preacher and expositor of the word of God, the Rev. Joseph Benson. Dr. Clarke, standing at the side of his deathbed, heard the theologian’s last testimony: “My hope of salvation is,BY GRACE,THROUGH FAITH.” On the occasion of the funeral, at City-road, Dr. Clarke delivered a powerful address to the congregation which crowded the spacious chapel.

Among many journeys this year, he visited Epworth, to preach for the chapel. With his veneration for the family of the Wesleys, the spot on which he then found himself was felt to be classic ground. “With reverence and strong religious gratification,” he went over the old rectory, accompanied by the resident clergyman; and then proceeded to the simple, clean little church, hard by which was “a sycamore-tree which was planted by the hand of old Samuel Wesley. I brought away a piece of the outer bark. I have got a pair of fire-tongs which belonged to him, and which were bought at the family-sale. There is also an old clock, which I rather think I shall have, and for which I left a commission [an order for something].”

In these widely-extended journeys for the promotion of great charities for time and eternity, he was everywhere hailed with a hearty religious welcome, and heard with an almost unexampled reverence by the rich and the poor, who met together to receive from the lips of him who kept knowledge the words of eternal peace.

At the Conference of 1822, held in London, his brethren in the ministry offered him the token of their own heartfelt veneration by electing him to the Presidential chair. This was the third time that honor was conferred upon him; a circumstance which had not hitherto occurred in the annals of the body. Dr. Coke had been President twice; and since those days two eminent men, Drs. Jabez Bunting and Robert Newton, have held the office four times each. But in the present case the distinction was unique, and was no doubt intended as a homage paid to extraordinary virtue and worth.

At this Conference initiatory proceedings were entered upon towards a mission to the Zetland Islands, a work in which, as we shall have to record, Dr. Clarke took a personal and a predominant interest. His official visit to the Irish Conference was made in connection with a tour in Scotland, and in several neighborhoods of his native island. In the course of these peregrinations [travels] he found himself once more among the scenes of his childhood. He entered the church where he was baptized. “I went,” says he, “within the communion-rail. With silent solemnity and awe, I there, in the presence of Him whose I am, and whom I serve, mentally and in a deep spirit of prayer, took upon myself those vows which had so long before been made in my name and on my behalf.”

Standing by the graves of some of the members of his family in the adjoining place of the dead, he made the reflection: “Here lie several of my ancestors; and I go to lie most probably in another land, and shall not, in all likelihood, be gathered to my fathers. But I too shall be found, when all the quick and dead stand before the Lord; and wheresoever my dust may be scattered, the voice of the Lord shall call it together, and I shall stand in my lot at the end of the days. May I then be found of Him in peace, without spot and without blame, and have in entrance into the holiest through the blood of Jesus!”

In Ireland he found the Societies still in an uneasy condition. At a public meeting, convened in Belfast, “one proposing the question to me, ‘ Is Methodism now what it has been?’ I answered it in a way very different from what was, I believe, expected, and intended by it: ‘No: it is more rational, more stable, more consistent, more holy, more useful to the community, and a greater blessing to the world at large.’ And all this I found no difficulty in proving.” It had been published for him to preach at Bandon at twelve’ o’clock; and he proceeded thither for that purpose. His entrance into the town was greeted as if he had come (as indeed he had) an ambassador from a King.

The street was lined with a multitude waiting his “‘arrival, many of whom had come from various towns, and some from a distance of thirty miles.

On reaching Dublin, he presided at the Conference; in the course of which the Dublin Missionary Meeting had the long-remembered advantage of his counsels and exhortations.

The Irish Conference is preliminary to that in England; and scarcely had the Doctor arrived at home from a journey of 2,000 miles, before he was again on the way to the latter, which was held that year in Sheffield. He once more gave up the seal of office, to his old friend, the Rev. Henry Moore, and concluded the duties of his presidency with a Charge at the ordination of the junior ministers, distinguished by a powerful and solemn unction, while he exhorted them to “take heed to themselves and to the doctrine,” and to “continue in these things,” so as to save themselves and those who should hear them. The official sermon, which he delivered at the usual time, was on a theme which called out all the powers of his sanctified mind: “God is a Spirit; and that worship Him, must worship Him in spirit and in truth.” It was at this Conference that Ebenezer chapel, a large Gothic structure which the Methodists of Sheffield had lately erected, was dedicated for Divine service; and Dr. Clarke was the morning preach er.

Toward the conclusion of the sermon, owing to some false alarm, (created, it was thought, for a wicked purpose,) one of those panics took place which have been too often attended by fatal effects. But, through the good providence of God, no great disaster occurred. This being the third instance of the kind in which a similar shock had been given him, the Doctor expressed a resolution to preach no more at the opening of a chapel.

An accident which befell him shortly after the Conference had a bad effect on his health, which became so disordered as to lay him aside for a time altogether. On the 14th of September, he takes occasion to lament that he was too weak to repeat even the Lord’s Prayer; and on the 17th, that he could not speak five minutes at a time, — so soon is the strength of the most vigorous man laid low. An idea, which had been present with him some time, now gained ground in his mind, — namely, that a residence in a more southerly part of England would be more conducive to his welfare.

This was strengthened by the consideration that his family were then nearly all settled in London. He now observes that he should be glad “if any small place, from three to fifty miles from London, could be obtained;” adding, “But we should rather be thinking of our last change, than of making another removal.” An indication was given, however, of his resolve to migrate from the north, by the appearing of his name, on the Minutes of the next Conference, in connection with the London West Circuit. In the course of some few months, an advantageous offer having been made to Dr. Clarke for the Millbrook property, he finally disposed of it; and, after a short and intermediate residence at Canonbury-square, Islington, he took up his last earthly sojourn at Haydon Hall, near Pinner, in the county of Middlesex. In this salubrious [health-giving] and beautiful spot, about sixteen miles from London, — near enough for ordinary convenience, yet sufficiently secluded for retirement, — the Doctor soon felt himself at home. His flagging health recovered much of its wonted energy; and, his soul being replenished with increase of grace, he dedicated life anew to God in humble dependence on that preventing and sustaining power which alone could enable him, in all his works, begun, continued, and ended, to glorify His holy Name.

CHAPTER 2

HONOURED BY THE GREAT AND GOOD

The fallen heart of man is not so utterly abandoned and debased as to have lost all sensibility to the praiseworthiness of the things that are pure, and honest, and of good report; for, among the heathens themselves, the wreath was given to the patriot, and shrines and statues rose to the fame of the wise and the just. Nor does Christianity discountenance such tributes to social worth. Religion attests her veneration for those who have lived for the public good, by inscribing their names on her temples; and the enlightened of all nations speak with reverence of Westminster Abbey, and like solemn places, as spots sacred to all humanity. The recollections they inspire create a wholesome influence on society at large, as the well-earned honors thus awarded are not only memorials to the dead, but incentives to virtuous effort among the living.

The true Christian has, indeed, a higher reward in view than any of these things can yield him. They are not the recompense to which he aspires, — compared with which the most glittering prizes of the world are only meteors in a changing sky. And if, instead of these honorable awards, dishonor and death would be the issue of his efforts, he would labor on, in the promotion of human welfare, to do the will of God. But if, on the other hand, his fellow-men recognize in him a merit which calls forth some tokens of commendation, he delays not to consecrate that tribute “to the greater glory of the Most High,” by employing the increasing influence it may confer upon him, as a talent to be improved in His service, and to His praise.

Adam Clarke, as a scholar and author, met with as great a measure of scientific and literary honors as falls to most men in the republic of letters.

King Solomon has written that “a man shall be commended according to his wisdom:” — if this rule hold good, as it did in the instance of him whose course we are reviewing, the amplitude of the laudatory testimonials with which he was greeted will sufficiently prove the estimate his contemporaries had formed of him, as one of the master-spirits of the intellectual world.

From the ancient University of Aberdeen he had received, in 1807, the diploma of Master of Arts. The application to the Faculty for its conferment, made by the late Professor Porson, was perfectly unknown to Mr. Clarke who, as soon as he became aware of the circumstance, wrote to Mr. Porson as follows: — “It is only within a few hours that I have been informed of a request made to you by one of my friends for your recommendation to King’s College, Aberdeen. This was utterly without my knowledge, nor had I even the slightest intimation that anything of the kind was projected. I have such high notions of literary merit, and the academical distinctions to which it is entitled, that I would not in conscience take, or cause to be taken in my behalf, any step to possess the one, or to assume the other. Everything of this kind should come, not only unbought, but unsolicited. I should as soon think of being learned by proxy, as of procuring academical honors by influence; and, could one farthing purchase me the highest degree, I would not give it. Not that I lightly esteem such honors; I believe them, when given through merit, next to those which come from God: but I consider them misplaced when conferred in consequence of recommendation in which the person concerned has any part, near or remote. As I wish to stand us high as justice will permit in your good opinion, and as I should justly conclude I had deservedly forfeited it, if known to hunt after a title, I deem it necessary, on the hint I have received of this matter, to trouble you with these lines. What you have said of me I know not, but I am satisfied you would say nothing but what is kind and just; and to deserve and to have the smallest measure of the approbation of a man who stands at the head of the republic of letters, would be to me a very high gratification.”

The faculty of King’s College had already become too well acquainted with Mr. Clarke to be disinclined to meet the overture of the great Cambridge professor; and the degree was immediately conferred. The newly-created Master was thus advised of the honor by Professor Bentley, under date of January 31st, 1807: — “I have the pleasure to announce to you that the University and King’s College, Aberdeen, have this day unanimously conferred the degree of Master of Arts on Mr. Adam Clarke, member of the Philological Society of Manchester, and author of several literary works of merit. Mr. Scott is the promoter in this faculty, and I was obliged to him for seconding me in my proposal. Let me assure you, I look not on this as the measure of your merit; but it may be considered as a step: and, while I live, I shall not cease to wish, and (as far as it may be in my power) endeavor to promote, your due honor and fame.”

Some thirteen months afterwards the senate of King’s College attested their proper appreciation of his learning and labors by creating him Doctor of Laws. This act was announced to him in most complimentary terms by Mr. Bentley, under date of March 3rd, 1808: — “I have the pleasure to inform you, that this University has this day given another proof of its estimation of your merit, by unanimously voting to you the highest designation in its gift, that of LL.D. Permit me to add my sincere congratulations on the occasion, and to wish that you may long live to enjoy the rewards and fruits of your useful and meritorious labors. You are already as much possessed of the degree as it is possible to be; but I shall soon have the honor to transmit to you the demonstration of it in the sign manual of all the members of the Senatus Academicus.”

It may be added, that so entirely were these transactions divested of all pecuniary relationships, that the college refused to accept even the customary fees given on those occasions.

In 1813 Dr. Clarke was elected a Fellow of the Antiquarian Society. His nomination, which had the signature of one of the commissioners of the State Records, having been suspended at Somerset House for the usual period of six weeks, his election was unanimous. This connection with the Antiquarian Society was attended both with pleasure and profit to him, from the congeniality of the studies carried on by its members, with those in which all his life he felt a peculiar interest.

The Royal Irish Academy inscribed Dr. Clarke’s name among those of its members in 1821; a distinction which gave him the more satisfaction, from the circumstance that it was a token of esteem from his own countrymen.

A similar mark of respect was shown by the Eclectic Society of London, — an association consisting only of men who have distinguished themselves in literature or science. The chancellors of the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge were at that time the vice-patrons of the Society; the patron, H.R.H. the duke of Gloucester, whose seal was affixed to the diploma.

The Geological Society of London enrolled the Doctor as an Associate in 1823; and in the same year the Royal Asiatic Society elected him a Fellow.

He had also the honor of being instituted a Member of the American Historical Institute.

It should be observed, that, as none of these distinctions had been sought by Dr. Clarke, so they were not overweeningly doted upon when received. He “bore his faculties meekly:” in truth, they gave him at times more pain than pleasure. He walked humbly with God, and with men; still ambitious, not of the laurel-wreaths that fade away, but of the crown which is incorruptible.

It is a fact, however, that from all ranks of society Dr. Clarke received most unequivocal tokens of real respect. Among the members of the Church of England, distinguished laics [laymen] and dignified clergymen made no secret of their personal regard for the learned Methodist divine. A pleasant incident illustrative of this took place at an anniversary meeting of the Prayer-Book and Homily Society. Dr. Clarke was on the platform, which was crowded by some of the elite of the Church. One of the speakers took occasion to refer to him, as “the worthy Doctor, who of all the men I know who are not of our Church, comes the nearest to it both in doctrine and friendship:” whereupon Dr. Clarke, in a speech which followed, ventured, in alluding to the reference to himself, to state his own connection with the Church by baptism, confirmation, and communion; adding, “If, after all, I am not allowed to be a member of it, because, through necessity being laid upon me, I preach Jesus to the perishing multitudes without those most respectable orders that come from it, I must strive to be content: and if you will not let me accompany you to heaven, I will, by the grace of God, follow after you, and hang upon your skirts.” Mr. Wilberforce, who was sitting beside the chair, rose, and in his usual animated style said: “Far from not acknowledging our worthy friend as a genuine member of the Church, and of the church of the first-born whose names are written in heaven, — far from denying him to be of the company who are pressing in at the gate of blessedness, — we will not indeed let him follow; he shall not hang on our skirts, to be as if (dragged onwards; we will take him in our arms, we will bear him in our bosoms, and carry him into the presence of his God and our God.”

On the publication of his little manual, “The Traveler’s Prayer,” he received complimentary letters from the Bishops Blomfield, Ryder, and Herbert Marsh. The latter prelate told him that, though long accustomed to read, study, and admire the Liturgy of the Anglican Church, he felt that Dr. Clarke’s discourse on the Third Collect developed beauties in it which he had never seen before. Blomfield, bishop of London, gave him a general invitation to visit him at Fulham Palace whenever he could make it convenient. On one occasion, after a frank conversation, as they were descending the stairs towards the hall-door, his lordship quoted in Latin the well-known sentence: “Seeing you are such a man, I wish you were altogether our own.” The bishop liked Dr. Clarke’s simple, genuine character, as well as his learning. He was a frequent reader of his Commentary.

The late earl and countess of Derby took several occasions of testifying the veneration and regard they had learned to entertain for him. Their personal acquaintance with him began after he had come to reside at Millbrook. He received (to quote a letter of his own) “a polite message, stating that, if agreeable to me, they would wait on me for the purpose of inviting me to Knowsley Hall. I fixed the next day at twelve; and they came There were thirteen persons, all nobles.” Much conversation took place. Among other topics, the countess, who seemed “far, very far from being indifferent to the life of God in the soul,” asked him for a copy of his sermon on “Salvation by Faith,” which he presented to her ladyship, with the kindred discourse on the “Love of God.” This led to other visits on both sides, and not without some good improvement.

Among the members of the royal family there were some who showed a personal respect for Dr. Clarke. His Commentary was not only in their libraries, but often in their hands. The duke of Kent, the father of our august sovereign, attended personally at City-road chapel to hear the Doctor preach for the Royal Humane Society; and the duke of Sussex gave him repeated evidences of a more than ordinary esteem.

That illustrious prince, among other excellent traits of character, was distinguished by an ardent love for Biblical learning. His own knowledge of the sacred tongues was more than respectable, and his library contained a magnificent collection of the Scriptures in the principal languages and editions in which they had been given to the world. The duke had fifteen hundred Bibles; and for many years he spent two hours every morning in reading the Scriptures. Now Dr. Clarke had a copy of the London Polyglot which contained in the Epistle Dedicatory a laudatory reference, by Walton, to Oliver Cromwell. The Protector dying before the actual publication of the work, this passage was suppressed, and the epistle modified so as to dedicate the Polyglot to the returning monarch. A few of the republican copies, nevertheless, found their way into the world; and from that in his own possession Dr. Clarke re-reprinted a few exemplars of the Dedication, in type exactly resembling the original. To render the likeness still more complete, he tinted the paper by an infusion of tobacco to the shade which time had given to the pages of the Polyglot. The duke of Sussex, having heard of this, expressed a wish to have one of those sheets for his own copy, and made the request for it through his surgeon, William Blair, Esq., who was a personal friend of Dr. Clarke: upon which the Doctor wrote a letter to His Royal Highness, accompanied by the only copy of the reprinted Dedication which remained, and a reprint of the titlepage to the fifth volume of the Polyglot, containing the New Testament, found only in a very few copies. In acknowledging the gift through his secretary, Mr. Pettigrew, “His Royal Highness” (writes that gentleman) “commands me to say that he trusts, whenever you come to London, you will honor him with a visit, when he will be very proud to show you his library, and be most happy to make the acquaintance of a man for whose talents and character he has so exalted an opinion.” Dr. Clarke, in reply, “made his humble acknowledgments, and should he come to town would feel himself honored in receiving any commands from His Royal Highness.”

Being in London about three months after, to preach for the Missionary Society, the Doctor was invited to meet the royal duke at Kensington Palace. “I went,” (says he, writing to Miss Clarke,) “and was received by His Royal Highness in his closet, and was led by himself through his library, where he showed me several curious things, and condescended to ask me several bibliographical questions, desiring his librarian from time to time to note the answers down. Dinner came. The company: H. H. H.; Dr. Parr, the highest Greek scholar in Europe; Sir Anthony Carlisle; the Rev. T. Maurice, of the British Museum; the Hon. _____ Gower, Colonel Wildman, Sir Alexander Johnstone, Lord Blessington, Mr. Pettigrew, and Adam Clarke. We sat down about seven o’clock, and dinner was over about half-past nine. I wished much to get away, (though the conversation was to me unique, curious, and instructive,) fearing your mother would be uneasy. I cannot give you the conversation, but you may judge by the outline “I was informed I must remain till all the company had departed, which was about twelve o’clock. When they were all gone, the duke sat down on the sofa, and beckoned me to come and sit beside him, on his right hand; and he entered for a considerable time into a most familiar conversation with me. At last a servant in the royal livery came to me, saying, ‘Sir, the carriage is in waiting.’ I rose up, and His Royal Highness, rising at the same time, took me affectionately by the hand, told me I must come and visit him some morning when he was alone, (which time should be arranged between me and his secretary,) bade me a friendly ‘good night,’ and I was then conducted by the servant to the door of the palace, when, lo, and behold, one of the royal carriages was in waiting, to carry a Methodist preacher, your old weather-beaten father, to his own lodgings.”

In the following November Dr. Clarke presented the duke with copies of the parts of his Commentary which had then been completed, and along with them a letter describing the history of the work, and the studies which had produced it. Referring to the pains he had taken to set the doctrines of the Bible in the clear light of evidence, he adds: “On all such subjects I humbly hope your Royal Highness will never consult these volumes in vain. And if the grand doctrines which prove that God is loving to every man, and that from His Infinite and Eternal Goodness He wills, and has made provision for, the salvation of every human soul, be found to be those alone which have stood the above sifting and examination, it was not because they were sought for beyond all others, and the Scriptures bent in that way in order to favor them, but because these doctrines are essentially contained in and established by the oracles of God.”

The duke of Sussex, acknowledging this offering in a long autograph letter, expressed his belief in the Divine origin and truth of the holy volume, and his despair of ever being able fully to understand all its mysteries. This, however, says he, “ought in no wise to slacken our diligence, nor damp our ardor, in attempting a constant research after the attainment of truth; as we may flatter ourselves, although unable to reach the goal, still to approach much nearer to its portals.” And again: “The objects, besides many others, which seem to have occupied the greatest and most valuable part of your active life, cannot fail of being most interesting to the historian, the theologist, the legislator, and the philosopher. To these details I shall apply myself; and, as my heart and mind improve, I shall feel my debt of gratitude towards you daily increasing, — an obligation I shall ever be proud to own.”

In April, 1825, he was favored with another invitation to Kensington. The Doctor was accompanied this time by his son, Mr. J. W. Clarke, who had been included by His Royal Highness’s command. Writing to Miss Clarke, her father says: “We reached Kensington about six o’clock. The duke soon made his appearance, (for by this time the whole company were in the pavilion,) and, singling me out, took me by the hand, and led me forward to two Indian gentlemen, saying, ‘Here is my friend Dr. Adam Clarke, who will speak Persic or Mabic with any of you.’ Previously to dinner, all the company were ushered into the room where the MSS. and early printed books are kept. The duke of Hamilton remarking upon the probable date of some of them, from their illuminations, John gave two or three opinions, heraldically, [dealing with armorial bearings] which were happy and decisive The profusion of plate was amazing. I ate about an ounce of turbot, and did not taste one drop of fluid of any kind. His Royal Highness two or three different times recommended viands [articles of food] from the head of the table to John, and pledged and sent him some Trinity College ale. He soon felt at home, and took his part in discussions on antiquities and heraldry, which were well received The conversation referred to several points of language and criticism.”

Hitherto the Doctor had been the guest of the Prince; but, on coming to reside at Haydon Hall, he had the honor of receiving His Royal Highness in more than one friendly visit. On the first occasion he was accompanied by Mr. Pettigrew, his librarian. Dr. Clarke received his august visitor with a truehearted and genial politeness. During dinner the prince entered freely into social and intellectual conversation, and spent several hours after with the Doctor among his books. Sometime subsequently the duke made a second visit, having previously intimated his wish to have the pleasure of dining at Haydon Hall. He came as early as two o’clock, and employed the interval before dinner in reading portions of the Bible, and making references in Hebrew criticism. He was greatly delighted with inspecting a set of Hebrew manuscripts which Dr. Clarke had been fortunate enough to purchase from the Vanderhagen family in Holland; manuscripts which Kennicott mentions in the Introduction to his great Bible, with the lamentation that with all his efforts he had not been able to have access to them for collation. — It was just subsequent to this visit that the Rev. Joseph Clarke, the Doctor’s youngest son, was appointed chaplain to the duke of Sussex.

In closing these details, we must remark that the veneration and honor in which Dr. Clarke was held in his lifetime, have now long survived his own appearance among us, and seem to gather new strength as years roll on. In the very week in which these lines are penned, the public newspapers give an account of a meeting held in the court-house in the town of Coleraine for the purpose of founding “a memorial to Dr. Adam Clarke, in the erection of a Methodist chapel at Port-Stewart, in the parish of Agherton, where he was brought up; and of a memorial obelisk and statue, to be raised at Port-Rush, as the most conspicuous site, and in the focus of observation for travelers and tourists to the Giants’ Causeway.” It appears that such a purpose has been formed not only by the Methodists of that part of Ireland, but by the great body of the most influential inhabitants.

Among the names of the managing committee are those of a nobleman, Lord Robert Montague, a member of Parliament, five justices of the peace, the treasurer for the county, several military officers, four aldermen, a number of the clergy, and some of the principal landed gentlemen in that part of the kingdom; the chairman, J. C. Knox, Esq., of Jackson Hall. Such demonstrations reflect an honor on those who make them, as well as on the character of him whom they are designed to commemorate. As opposed to the too common and heartless ingratitude of the world, the veneration shown for men who have widened the horizon of human knowledge, or helped to confirm our souls in virtue, is something beautiful and desirable. When human society shall be regenerated from its blind debasement, such benefactors will receive the reverence of nations.

CHAPTER 3

THE PHILANTHROPIST

“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.” The good works of the Christian derive their life and splendor from love, without which they would be “dead works,” and nothing worth. Of this principle the venerable man whose history we are now reviewing had an abiding conviction. That “vital spark of heavenly flame,” the love of God, kindled in his soul by the Eternal Spirit, revealed itself in a life of humble piety toward the great Supreme, and ceaseless efforts to promote the welfare of mankind. The more he knew of Christ his Saviour by a communion which grew more intimate with his years, the stronger were the impulses of his mind and heart to walk as He also walked who “went about doing good.”

This living Christianity took one of its many forms of expression in sympathy for the friendless poor, and especially for them who were of the household of faith, whom he called “the representatives of Christ, and God’s best friends.” A few words from an early letter, written in Guernsey, will show the nature of this feeling: — “William Mahy, our local preacher, was obliged to put his four little innocents to bed in the day-time, and cover them up, to prevent them from starving; not having a morsel of coal to burn, nor money to purchase any. Had a portion of the cash wasted in the above way” (referring to a piece of extravagance) “been appropriated to the relief of this distressed good man, how gladly would the first scribe in heaven have registered it in the annals of eternity! When I consider the suffering state of these ‘more righteous than I,’ I can scarcely eat my morsel with contentment. If there is meaning in the expression ‘a bleeding heart,’ I think I have it for the poor. My very soul seems to f eel for them throughout the world, as my father, my sister, my mother, and my brethren. Forgive me, if, in detailing on this subject, which oppresses my heart, I have forgotten to write about the full salvation you inquired after: but is it not found in the compassions of Christ? And were not these exercised in continual outgoings for the poor? He lived for the poor, He died for the poor; and blessed is he who remembereth the poor, even supposing he is not able to help them. I know I feel the spirit and power of Christ, as I feel love modified into compassion and pity.” And this feeling led him to do whatever in him lay to relieve the distressed, and to do it in the Christian way, without the trumpet-tongue of the Pharisee, and not letting his left hand know what his right hand did. When he had little, of that little he gave willingly. He literally broke his bread and shared his morsel with the hungry, and taught his children to do the same. We have given an illustration of this on a former page. Writing to Mrs. Clarke from the Bristol Conference in 1798, he says: “I have just found out poor Mrs. C_____, with her mother and sister, living together in an indifferent upstairs room, St. James’s Churchyard, Horsefair. I must give her something. But what shall I do? I have but 2s. 6d. I must break in upon my Conference guinea.” We transcribe these words with delicacy; but do it to show what manner of a man Dr. Clarke really was. In after-life, when Providence gave him more, he was able to make his donations more weighty: — “Give poor Ellen that guinea for me.” — “Give Mrs. _____ a guinea for me.” — “I have just heard that Mr. _____ has become a bankrupt, and is in great distress. Can you show him any kindness? I have sent by Mrs. S_____ two guineas, which you will give to him, with my love. Do not delay.” The exercise of his medical skill often gave him great consolation, as he was enabled thus to relieve distress and to save life. He exulted, also, in witnessing good done by others. Writing on a journey, he mentions an inscription on a house in Rochester with which he was delighted: it set forth that Mr. ____ had by will bequeathed a certain sum to be laid out at all times upon poor travelers, “six of whom every night (provided they be neither rogues nor proctors) may have their supper and a night’s lodging, and fourpence a man next morning.” “Was not this noble?” says he: “Peace to the manes of this honorable fellow!”

He set others to do good; not only by the general tenor of his doctrine and life, but by organizing associations for works of mercy to the body and the soul. Of this the Strangers’ Friend Society is a blessed monument.

But Dr. Clarke’s benevolence took a wider range than the necessities of the body. Not content with supplying according to his power the hungry with food, and clothing the naked with a garment, but recognizing the loftier destines of our nature, he used every means at his command to meet the wants of the immortal mind. In the poorest orphan he beheld a being who could be brought to the knowledge of God as a Father, and become the heir of an endless life. To further the great cause of religious education was with him, therefore, a prominent duty; and by his long-continued appeals on behalf of Sunday-schools, those important institutions were greatly aided. But in the year 1830, his attention was especially attracted to a providential opening for the establishment of some day-schools in certain destitute neighborhoods in that part of Ireland where he himself had spent his childhood. A Christian friend, Miss Birch, who had already greatly aided him in his charitable enterprises, now united with three other ladies in placing funds at his disposal for this good work. The Rev. Samuel Harpur, superintendent of the Coleraine Circuit, had corresponded with him on the subject, and pointed out such localities as, having been left in entire destitution, presented the strongest claims. These preliminaries were followed up by a personal visit on the part of the Doctor himself, who in the spring of 1831 accomplished a long itinerancy in the north of Ulster, “about Magilligan, on Ahadowey; the upper parts of the parish of Mocosquin; a place called Cashel, near the mountains of Newtownlimavaddy, and on the side of the river Bann; the seacoast parts of the county Antrim; Port-Rush and its vicinity, where there was a large and increasing population, and where for miles there was no school of any kind, nor any sort of instruction, and where, consequently, ignorance and vice had almost uncontrolled sway.” As soon as the means were in existence, he gave Mr. Harpur the power to commence operations; so that, before his arrival, school s had been opened at Port-Rush and some other places, and suitable masters engaged for those yet contemplated. We give a specimen from a copious diary kept on this pilgrimage of mercy: — “April 13th. — Mr. Holderoft and myself left Coleraine in a car, and proceeded to Port-Stuart and Port-Rush I have scarcely ever seen a sight more lovely: though the children are all miserably poor, and only half clothed, they are all quite clean, their hair combed, and even their bare feet clean also. There are eighty children, and all behaving with decorum, — thus strangely changed in their conduct and habits. Wicked words no longer heard, and decency of behaviour everywhere observable. They have not only learned prayers, but how to use them. I discoursed with some of the principal inhabitants, who bore the strongest testimony to the great good already produced not only among the children, but also among their parents. They are at present ill off for a place sufficiently large; and I am straggling hard to get a piece of ground, on which a chapel and school-house may be erected, and believe I shall ultimately succeed. “April 14th. — We set off again this morning to visit the schools in the hill-country. Here” (at Cashel) “were seventy-five children, and not one pair of shoes among the whole. The children are in fine order, and promise well. The aspect of the country would almost affright one, — the most bleak and wild that can be imagined.

Never did charity sit down in the form of an instructress more in her own character than in this waste. The school-house is large: I have agreed to take the place, pay the debt, and give 1. 10s. to put it in repair. Every Lord’s day it is now full of attentive hearers; for the master is a preacher. “April 18th. — We went today to a place called Croagh, where the whole youth of a large and populous district have been long without education. It had been published that I was expected.

When we got within a mile of the place, we saw squads of children with their mothers coming down the hills and over the moors from all quarters to the school-house, which is little more than half finished. So a farmer had prepared a barn meantime. I proclaimed an adjournment to the barn, about half a mile off; and, setting out, they all filed after me, children and mothers. When at the place, I addressed the parents out of doors, and laid down the rules and conditions on which the children were to be admitted. Then, standing at the barn-door, I admitted them, one by one, to the number of one hundred and thirty-three; introduced the master gave his character and qualifications; specified the sort of teaching the children were to receive; the discipline under which they were to be brought, — to learn their duty to God, to their parents, to each other; to pray; to avoid every evil in word and deed, in spirit, temper, and desire; to be industrious, cleanly, orderly, respectful to their superiors, affectionate to their relatives, kind and obliging to their equals. After a good deal of exhortation, I then proceeded to bring all the children out of the barn, laying my hands upon their heads, and praying to God for His blessing upon them all.”

Such is an extract from this pleasing record of operations which resulted in the establishment of schools which have ever since been centers of intellectual, religious, and social benefit to the neighborhoods where they stand. Towards the close of his life, Dr. Clarke made then over to the care of the Wesleyan Missionary Society.

A yet more weighty undertaking was the establishment of a mission to the Zetland Isles. To this truly apostolic work Dr. Clarke brought the latest vigor of his life. The youthful evangelist in the sunny islands of La Manche, now changed by the lapse of years to the grey-headed elder, bends his way to tell the inhabiters of the storm-beaten rocks of the “ultima Thule” the majesty and grace of the same Redeemer.

It was at the Conference of 1822, the year of the Doctor’s third presidency, that, in an extensive discussion on the missionary agencies of Methodism, the late Rev. Daniel McAllum, M.D., laid before his brethren an impressive account of the almost destitute condition of the Zetlanders as to the means of religious instruction. Dr. Clarke listened to those details with more than usual interest. He had himself descended, on the mother’s side, from a family which from remote generations lived the life of Scottish islanders in the Hebrides; and this circumstance would probably give a finer edge to the sensibility with which he felt the speaker’s appeals.

Under the influence of these feelings he rose, urged on the Conference the duty of taking the work at once in hand, and concluded by proposing that two missionaries should be thereupon appointed to the Zetland Isles. The difficulty as to expenses he would not permit to interfere with the favorable leaning of the Conference toward the enterprise; already resolving that all he could do, or induce others to do, should be called freely into exercise to promote this plain work of mercy. Accordingly two ministers, the Rev. John Raby and the Rev. Samuel Dunn, were set apart for the new mission.

No sooner had the Doctor returned from Conference, than he commenced operations for raising the necessary funds. There lived at that time at Pensford, near Bristol, a gentleman of great honor and piety, Robert Scott, Esq., who, with his excellent lady, was always willing to help the preachers in their enterprises to make the Saviour known to the nigh and to the far-off. To him the President made his first appeal; and with what effect, the annals of that mission will never cease to show. Mr. Scott gave the promise of a hundred pounds per annum for the support of the missionaries, and of ten pounds toward every chapel to be built in the islands. In fulfilling this promise, he always exceeded the amount at first stipulated, while his admirable wife, and her sister, the late Miss Granger, of Bath, added also their handsome donations. It should also be mentioned, that Mr. Scott subsequently bequeathed the sum of three thousand pounds in trust for the Zetland missions. Dr. Clarke was one of the trustees. From th e Honorable Sophia Ward, Miss Birch, Miss Williams, and other ladies, he also received considerable amounts in addition, by which he was enabled to inaugurate this undertaking with a fair prospect of perpetuity and success.

The brethren appointed began and continued the arduous task assigned them in the spirit of true Christian missionaries. They went from isle to isle, in storm and sunshine alike, to dispense the word of life to a scattered population, who heard them with gratitude, and gave good evidence too that the Gospel had come to them not in word only, but with powerful grace. In this work the two preachers had to endure hardness, as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. Their employment exposed them to much physical discomfort and danger, and their way was sometimes rendered the more discouraging by the opposition of the few Scottish clergy located in the islands. Though the state of the people sufficiently proved that this evangelic help was painfully needed, those gentlemen were far from being disposed to accord it their welcome. This, however, did not deter the two brethren or their successors from doing their duty, and doing it with a blessed return.

To describe the minute and earnest interest which Dr. Clarke took in this mission would require details too multitudinous for our limits. By referring to the twelfth volume of his Works the reader will find a variety of papers, geographical, statistical, epistolary, and narrative, all bearing on the subject. Twice the Doctor undertook a pilgrimage by land and sea to visit the missionaries on their far-off stations, to see the people for himself, and to preach among them the riches of Christ. The first voyage was in 1826.

On account of his then advanced period of life, and his frequent ailments, the project gave Mrs. Clarke and the family no small uneasiness; but their fears were allayed by the words of faith with which he addressed them. “It seems,” said he, “a work which God has given me to do: I must go on till He stops me. To sacrifice my life, at the command or in the work of God, is, as to pain or difficulty, no more to me than a burnt straw. My life is His, and He will not take it away out of the regular course, unless greatly to His glory and my good If I am enabled to take the journey, fear not for me; for I shall be most certainly supported through it. I am sure God will not bury me in the Northern Ocean.”

Of this expedition we have a full account in a journal kept at the time. On the 1st of June, with his son, Mr. John Clarke, he left London; and at Edinburgh he was joined by Messrs. Campion and Mackey. It was not till the 9th that they could secure a passage to the islands, which at length was accomplished in the Admiralty’s cutter, the “Woodlark,” Captain Frembly. “We got on pretty well till” (June 15th) “we came to the Pentland Frith [a narrow inlet of the sea, or an estuary]. Here was a monstrous sea: tide conflicting with tide raised the billows to a fearful height; but, as the wind was fair, our cutter cut through all. Near the Fair Isle the wind changed, and blew a hurricane; the sea wrought and was tempestuous. We seemed to have arrived at the end of the globe, where nature existed in chaotic uproar. There appeared a visible rage and anger in every wave: such tremendous thunder, while the waves and the billows of the Almighty went over us At length the angry wind chopped about, the storm became more moderate, and we had at least a fair gale, though the sea was still tremendous.” On the 17th, they dropped anchor in Bressa-Bay, and the barren mountains of Zetland rose to their view. On landing he found three of the preachers “who had been on the look-out three days.”

On the morrow, Sunday, June 18th, he preached in the new chapel at Lerwick, “a light airy building, in every respect a credit to the place.” The congregation large, respectable, attentive. The Sunday-school had eighty children; the teachers, some of the most respectable of the youth of the town. On Tuesday evening he preached again, and in a discourse on the “Sum and Substance of Apostolic Preaching” (subsequently published) gave an exposition of the doctrines of the Methodists. The rest of the week he spent in perambulations and passages among the islands, making minute observations on the country and the condition of the people, and imparting to them in conversation and public addresses counsels which he thought would do them good. He s peaks highly of the hospitality he received from several families; but notes that, on returning to Lerwick, “what with the incessant pain I had suffered, my different water-passages, the long and fatiguing walks, and this last ride” (among the mountains and rocks) “on the ponies, I was most excessively wearied, — indeed, so ill as to be obliged to take to my bed, where I suffered more pain than I have felt for years.” “June 20th. — I have met all the preachers, and made provisional appointments and arrangements which are for the Conference to ratify. I feel utterly incapable of additional fatigue. My natural force is abated, my eye is become dim, and my days of extra labor are over. — 30th. Distributed blankets, rugs, flannel shawls, and hymn-books among the poor people. — July 2nd. Preached to a large and deeply-attentive congregation from Luke 13:23: ‘ Are there few that be saved? ‘ and in the evening from Romans 15:4.”

This sermon, on “God’s Mercy in the Gift of Revelation,” was afterwards published, with a dedication “to the gentry and inhabitants of the town of Lerwick.”

The voyagers embarked on board the “Norna” on the 6th of July, and gained the bay of Aberdeen after six days’ conflict with the winds and tides. On the 12th the Doctor arrived in Edinburgh, and proceeded homeward most gratefully, though with pleasure chastened by the painful intelligence, which met him in the Scottish capital, that his dear friend and brother-in-law, Mr. Butterworth, was no more.

Two years later Dr. Clarke made a second visitation to those remote stations. “I am now preparing,” (February 20th, 1828,) “to take another voyage to Shetland. There are some things that remain to be done for that interesting people, which I think no man can do but myself. My life is the Lord’s: I take it in my hand, and make it a most free-will offering to Him.

His work there is the most glorious, deep, extensive, and steady I have ever known: for its support God has given me the hearts of the people, who have most liberally helped me. The preachers have been faithful and laborious. When I saw the effects of the labors of those two young men, Messrs. Dunn and Raby, I have been astonished.”

The party on this second occasion embarked at Whitby, on the 18th of June; the passage excellent, as on the 21st they landed at Lerwick, having seen the sun that morning “rising between two and three o’clock, — no previous night.” From that day to the 18th of July, he was hard at work in various parts of the Zetland group, “from Sumburgh-Head south, to the Scaw of Unst in the north.” In the Societies he found, in Lerwick members, in Walls, 455, North Mavin, 115, Yell, 250, besides a number in Foula and the Fair Isle. He met the Sunday-school children, “to discover the most necessitous, that I might provide them with some clothing; “and on the 26th and 27th of June, he employed the chief part of the day in apportioning clothing of different kinds to the extremely poor in the different islands. “Having invited the magistrates, professional gentlemen, and merchants of the town to dine with me on board the ‘ Henry,’ they came; and for the place and circumstances the dinner was satisfactory, and all seemed pleased. The conversation turned upon subjects of science, and matters in which the reality of the invisible world is concerned, and was upon the whole both useful and improving. “Sunday, July 6th. — Having crossed the high hills, a congeries [disorderly collection, mass, heap] of serpentine rocks, we passed Haroldswick, and at length reached Northwick, (lat. 61 degrees) the farthest town or habitation north in the British dominions. Here I preached on Job xxii. 21: ‘Acquaint now thyself with Him, and be at peace; that thereby good may come unto thee.’ There was no other sermon preached on this day between this spot and the North Pole. A press of people. I returned on foot, accompanied by six persons who had come sixteen miles to hear the preaching. I took them aboard to dine, and they are just gone off in our boat to regain the shore, most deeply affected.”

On the 11th, he laid the foundation-stone of a chapel in the island of Foula.

Once more arrived in Lerwick, early on Sunday, the 13th, “I went on shore to enjoy the luxury of clean things and a good washing. By the time this was done, the preaching-hour arrived, and without eating a morsel I had to go into the pulpit. It is strange I should have been capable of this after exposure on the deck for twenty hours. I found power in preaching. — July 17th, weighed anchor, and stood out of Bressa-Sound. May God grant us a prosperous voyage! Several friends came aboard, and many are following along shore to get the last view of us. God be with this people for ever!

The full journal of these voyages may be seen in the twelfth volume of Dr. Clarke’s Works, along with several other papers relating to the Zetland Isles and the Wesleyan missions there. The same volume contains, also, a valuable mass of correspondence with the missionaries.

The manifestations of benevolence unfolded in this chapter must not be regarded as fitful impulses or isolated facts in the conduct of Dr. Adam Clarke, but as occurrences which are but parts of a series which formed the general tenor of his life — a life spent in doing good, sanctified, adorned, ennobled by the spirit of that genuine Christianity which magnifies God in the highest, and creates the fruits of peace and good-will among men. “Thy care was fix’d, and zealously employ’d To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, And hope that reaps not shame.”

CHAPTER 4

THE FRIEND

It may be inferred, from the traits of his character incidentally unfolded in the past narrative, that Dr. Clarke’s personal disposition had a strong tendency to inspire and reciprocate those sweet and elevating sentiments which come under the common name of friendship. And in no man were the elements of this social virtue more vigorous, or more strongly developed. True worth always found in him a sincere and generous admirer; and by whomsoever a feeling of affection was shown for himself, it was sure to create in his soul, and call forth in his conduct, a grateful return. His benevolent instincts, naturally strong, were refined by the sanctifying grace of God; and his friendship, worthy of the name, was warm in its nature, and profitable in its effects. It had a heartiness which made itself substantially felt by those who shared it: far from an artificial, capricious, and vanishing sentiment, it became one of the realities of his life and their own. Hence most of the friendships he formed were prolonged with the days of mortality, and many of them have been resumed, we have reason to believe, in that region of love where the spirits of the just are made perfect.

In his intercourse with friends there was a peculiar charm about Dr. Clarke’s conversation, arising from the intrinsic value of what he said, combined with his kindly and cheerful manner of saying it. In mixed company, like many other great scholars, he was often silent and awkwardly reserved; but, surrounded with men and women of congenial principles with his own, his mind and heart gave freely forth the precious things with which they were stored. The endless variety of knowledge he had amassed from the books of all human literature, from the living book of society, from God’s book of nature, and, above all, from God’s written book of revelation, was all laid under contribution to instruct the mind, make the heart cheerful, and the life better. What Herder said of J. P.

Richter may be affirmed of Dr. Clarke’s conversation: — “Every time that we are together he opens anew the treasures that the three wise men brought, — the gold, frankincense, and myrrh; and the star always goes before him.”

Among the friends of Dr. Clarke were persons of all grades of society, even from the prince to the peasant and the mechanic. He found, too, a sacred and refining pleasure in good female society; and in the number of those who were privileged to be ranked with his intimate friends were several ladies distinguished for their talents and piety. Such was Mrs.

Tighe, the admired authoress of “Psyche.” Of this celebrated lady there is no separate biography; but a copious and well-written account of her has been given in Mrs. R. Smith’s Memoir of the Rev. Henry Moore; in whom, as in Mr. Wesley and Dr. Clarke, the poetess had a devoted friend.

We may also mention Mrs. Hall, the sister of Mr. Wesley, who was not inferior to the other members of that remarkable family in the gifts of genius and the virtues of religion; Miss Sarah Wesley, the daughter of Charles, who entertained for Dr. Clarke, to her dying hour, the warmest sentiments of veneration; Miss Tooth, a mutual friend, who still survives them; Mrs. Agnes Bulmer, another poetess whose harp is now tuned to the songs of the blessed; Mrs. Mary Cooper, of whose saintly life the Doctor himself wrote the memorial; and Miss Mary Freeman Shepherd, whom I mention last, being wishful to give an idea of her extraordinary character in some extracts from her letters to Dr. and Mrs. Clarke. Though a native of England, Miss Shepherd was, on her mother’s side, of Italian ancestry, by descent from the Faletti of Piedmont, a family which once held the rank of sovereign princes. She received her education in a convent at Rome, and was brought up as a member of the Romish Church. But her mind soon proved itself too high for the puerilities of the Papal system; and, though she unhappily retained a nominal union with it, her theological principles and religious affections were brought by degrees nearer and nearer to the evangelic creed, and to union with its true confessors of every name. She was an earnest admirer of Mr. Wesley; and when Dr. Coke was at Paris during the Revolution time, as mentioned on a previous page, Miss Shepherd, being then resident in a convent in the Faubourg St. Germaine, did him good service by her influence with the commissioner for ecclesiastical property, in extricating him from the embarrassment arising from the purchase of a church for which he could get no congregation.

Gifted with uncommon vigor of intellect, and being an habitual student, she became one of the eminently learned persons of the day. Her knowledge of Hebrew, both biblical and rabbinical, was excellent; and her love for the welfare of the Hebrew people themselves, ardent, prayerful, and profound.

Let us hear her: — “In 1789, when I was at Rome, provoked at the shocking insults and indignities which I daily beheld in the public streets exercised without constraint on the poor, harmless, unoffending Jews, I said to David Toscano, one of the teachers in the synagogue in the Ghetto, and my instructor in rabbinical Hebrew, ‘ My good friend, I wonder at your patience under such treatment: nay, more, I deem it cowardice, unworthy the descendants of Abraham, Joshua, and Caleb. You are at least eighteen hundred Hebrews in the Ghetto.

Give me but eight hundred, ay, only five hundred resolute men from among you, and I, although a woman, will put myself at your head, and engage, with the help of the God of Israel, to drive before me like a flock of geese all this long-coated dastardly herd of priests and monks, with which Rome is now filled, to the disgrace of Christianity.’ This was his noble, generous answer: — “‘O signora, we feel your love, your zeal for Israel, to our inmost souls. But, ill as we are used, we must remember it is our duty never to forget that, persecuted all over the globe, Rome permitted us here an asylum, and the free exercise, in this Ghetto, of our religion. Rome still, though under humiliating guidances, tolerates the Hebrews within her walls. These insults are part of the curse denounced on the infractors of His law by the Just and Holy God.

We have sinned, we bow our heads; but must not lift up our hands against the people and nation that received us into its bosom when none else would. And when our justly-angered God will turn our captivity, he can and will do it without our ingratitude to Rome.

But we tremble for your safety, should you too warmly speak in our favor.’ ‘ Never fear. Is not the Lord God of your fathers able to protect me? He will; and I will speak and spare not.’ And so I did.

A few days after, being with Santini, one of the consuls at Rome, I repeated to him the above conversation with D. Toscano, neither suppressing nor softening a syllable. In a very angry tone Santini said, ‘Do you know you may be sent to the Inquisition for this?’

Yes, I do know it. Send me, if you dare. It shall be the worst day’s work you ever did. I dare to venture everything, rather than not let you know how deserving the poor Jews are of better treatment than you show them.’ Yet, for all this, I was loved by the people at Rome; respected by those of higher rank, and treated with distinguished notice and every courteous attention at the Vatican library, museum, and Pope’s palace, and every place of note in the city. But my poor, loving, grateful Jews trembled for my safety; and the day I left Rome two stout young men were sent by the synagogue to keep in view my post-chaise, and put up at the same inn, all the road through the Papal territories. All unknown to me [was] their kindness; only I saw another chaise, with the curtains drawn in front, following mine, — until, at the inn at Sienna, the two Hebrew youths respectfully came up, took their leave, and told me that I was now safe in Tuscany. Nor was this all. Scarce had I been two hours in Leghorn, when a near relation of David Toscano, with the second rabbi of the synagogue, the amiable, pious, and learned Rabbi Castello, came to my hotel, with every tender of kindest services. And thus they did at every place, forestalling my arrival at Avignon, &c. Letters came before I came; the kindness was prepared to meet me: all this to an inconsiderable nobody, only for loving their nation, and speaking in their favor. O God, remember them for good! “That gratitude, and even humanity towards the brute creation, (for the Hebrews neither hunt, shoot, angle, nor horse-course, nor bullfight, cock-fight, &c.,) is a characteristic of Israel, who that reads their Scriptures, their law, their history, can deny? The very reveries of their rabbins in sending Pharaoh’s daughter, soul and body, like Elijah, into heaven, for saving the life of Moses, testify; [and so] the ass that carried Abraham to Mount Moriah, prolonged in life to carry Moses to deliver Israel, and as miraculously preserved to carry the King Messiah to His triumphant reign; Noah’s dove, Elijah’s ravens, Daniel’s lions, and every creature that had done services to Israel, — [all being] put in a place of happiness in the day of the Messiah’s triumph. Even in these rabbinical ideas, how beautiful on the mountains of Israel appear, to the heart that feels, the very wandering feet of erring gratitude!

There is something too wondrous, good-natured, and pitiful, in that notion of theirs, that, during the holy prayers of the synagogue on the Sabbath, the very damned are permitted to come out of hell, and enjoy their Sabbath. And, accordingly, the Jews begin their prayers as soon, and end them as late, as possible; to give even the damned a longer holiday! Now this, I must own, is far kinder than our priests. The Jews prolong their prayers for the lost spirits’ ease, without getting a farthing profit by it. Ours, alas! no penny, no Pater, — no, not for the poor suffering souls, their own brethren, in purgatory! “I remember reading that beautiful passage in Exodus: ‘Moses was fourscore years old when he stood before Pharaoh.’ I observed to the Jew that taught me Hebrew in Paris, Mordecai Ventura, interpreter of Oriental languages at the Royal Library, ‘How admirably Moses gives us to understand that the Most High so long delayed to deliver Israel, that Pharaoh, and she who had reared him up as her son in her father’s palace, might live to a good old age, and die in peace, before Moses was sent to inflict the plagues of Egypt, lest the rod of Moses should be soiled by ingratitude.’ ‘ Observe still more,’ eagerly exclaimed Ventura, ‘when the waters of Egypt were to be smitten and turned into blood, God commands Aaron, not Moses. They had borne him up safely in the bulrushark on their bosom. Could he strike them with a curse? Aaron owed them no debt: he might smite. The same, when the dust of Egypt was to be smitten Aaron was to stretch his hand and smite, — not Moses, whom that land had forty years fed with regal dainties.

Aaron had toiled coarsely and fared scantily at the brick-kilns.’ “In the sacred writings throughout, there is a holy vein of gratitude.

Edom is the brother; so is Ishmael: hurt them not. Moab and Ammon, children of Lot: vex them not unprovoked. Thou wast a stranger kindly received at first in Egypt ever remember the benefit, — hate not an Egyptian. Remember the kindness of Jethro: so the Kenite dwelt in Israel. Jesus must needs go through Samaria: there caused He the streams of Jacob’s well, the living, life-giving waters of salvation, to flow to Shechem, to more than repair the murders of Simeon and Levi.” We will make room for another, written to Dr. Clarke on occasion of one of his family-bereavements: — Open and read this letter in some calm, happy moment. It is on a tender subject, and as much as you can bear: more than you could, in a less exalted frame of thought. May the good Spirit of the Most Holy God give healing benediction to a poor Samaritan’s chirurgery! [surgery] Your letter, my dear sir, most forcibly recalls the well-known reply of Aeneas to Dido. Yet, he assured that, so far from seeking to renew your griefs, of the losses that caused them I was totally ignorant, or I had left my good Balmar embalmed in his virtues at Paris. But, since I have brought him over to London in my letter, may we not make some worthy use of him? You say, ‘Had he reared his departed children up to one, two, and five years old, he would have felt very differently.’ Undoubtedly; and the more he felt, the more would those feelings have furnished fire and wood for the burnt-offering. To people in the laborious classes of life in Paris, and more especially when of Balmar and his wife’s serious, domesticated cast of mind, tenderly loving each other, industrious, prospering in their industry, both of them of good natural understanding, cultivated by a plain useful education, improved by religion, and by religion raised to that simplex munditiis of Christian elegance in mind and manners, [with] feelings acutely alive to every fine impulse, and oft times expressed with a refinement of delicacy that would have done honor to a prince, — of which I could give instances: to him and his wife children must have been very desirable; at least a boy, to be the pleasant auxiliary of his labors, the staff of his declining years a girl, the comfort and companion of them both, the nursing-mother of their age, and, with her brother, the joint-inheritor of their substance and virtues. With an if — if God had so pleased, — he and his wife would have been glad their children had lived. God took away all his children — did not leave him one. Yet he not only submitted, but with Abraham’s faith gave them up to God; and, with the tears of a father, could sing nevertheless the song of ascension, <19C201> Psalm 122. “You have lost six children, it is true: but God hath left you six. He took away all, every one of Balmar’s. But half of yours are left; and not one, you own, has yet given you the heart-ache. Had their mother so written, I should have made large allowance for the tenderness of our weaker sex. But you, a man, not only ‘Adam’ but ‘Ish,’ is it thus that you strengthen your wife? — Your lovely Adam, and angel Agnes, I saw them continually in my mind’s eye; and as you pictured the little boy standing at your knee, playing with your watch-chain, at half-past one, in the full light of day, — methinks his action reads this lesson: ‘ Beloved father, as the links of the chain of your watch to your little Adam, so are the things of this lower world, mere toys, and the playthings of a child. As these links, few in number, to number beyond the reach of numbers to express; so are the years of the life of man upon earth, to the countless years of eternity. Yet on these counted years hang the countless years of eternity — attached thereto, as this horologer, [horology, the art of measuring time or making clocks, watches, etc.; the study of this] the recorder of the hours, which we call a watch. Within, closed up in the inward case, therefore unseen, is a moving spring. Its effects are visible in the moved hands on the dial-plate, as they mark the minutes and hours: ere they shall thrice have moved round this dial-plate, time will be no longer measured out to your darling Adam. He will no more be the son of fleeting time, but an heir of eternity.

The mortal in three short hours is going to be clothed with immortality.

Weep not, father: whither I go you also shall come. Your infant precursor, whose affections, improved not here through weakness, in heaven will breathe the uncontaminated air of innocence, end, as it were, prepare an unimpeded ascent to your prayers. My father, perhaps I may be permitted to be a ministering spirit of good to my parents and brethren.’ I think, then, how it would grieve your child, while thus employed, to see heart-rending pangs leave his father’s bosom, while his child, more alive than ever, is hovering over him a guardian-angel! And sainted Agnes, — O, could she touch her father’s heart and lips with a burning coal from the altar, and give him a view like that of Isaiah the year that King Uzziah died, both heart and lips would burst forth into joyful praise that God had taken his Agnes to Himself in the beauty and purity of holiness Nay, were she only till the great day in the bosom of Abraham, and heard from that patriarch’s own mouth the narrative of his victory over a father’s feelings, when commanded not only to give up, but to sacrifice, his only and beloved Isaac, not only the son of hope, but the heir of promise, thirty-six years of age, Abraham 136 — no demur, no delay!

O, love henceforward the descendants of such a father, even though he should be of the Ashtarothin’s congregation. For Abraham’s sake tenderly pity them, though encrusted all over with the sufferings of Polunder or German. What people can boast of a father like Abraham, to whom the God of righteous judgment could assign such blessings? — And blessed Miriam, the mother of Yehoshua, stabat, — non recumbens — stabat Mater by the cross of her Son. — These are examples more worthy of imitation than David crying, ‘O Absalom, my son, my son! Yet there was some excuse for his sorrow. His son at least went to the spirits in prison; yours are gone to heaven. Would that we were all there!”

A few detached sentences may be added, from some other letters of this learned and amiable woman to Dr. Clarke. “My mind’s constitution is the reverse of sombre. In my soul’s best moods, I leap as the roebuck over mountains of spices; in its worst, it bursts forth as the volcanoes of Etna and Vesuvius: yet thanks, immortal thanks, to the Almighty, who stilleth the raging of the winds and of the sea!” “Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa! I mourn, I grieve; not as a slave before his master, but as a child, broken-hearted, to have offended so good a Father; thus to have dishonored my Father’s image and name, and degraded mine own dignity of nature. Yet I sink not hopelessly. ‘Choose life,’ my Father God still says, ‘and live.’ All the commands of God, preceptive or prohibitory, the whole Thorath Adonai, are for man’s benefit; the kind teaching and enlightening of the Wisdom of Eternity, guiding the short-lived child of time in the straight and sure road of everlasting happiness. “ ‘Choose life, and live.’ ‘Thine arm is too short to reach life but thou art free to choose: then only choose life, and I the Lord will bring it to thee.’” “I am persuaded that the history of Job is a real matter of fact.

Have you a mind to read good Father Louis de Grenada’s sermons, in old French, of the days of Charles IX.? There is much sound timber in them, enough to furnish a whole town of modern buildings. “When in your notes you come to Isaac’s blessings to Esau, you will observe how literally they were ratified by God, and will see strong proof that Esau was not abhorred of Him, and how very nobly and lovingly he acted towards his overreaching brother at their meeting; nor did he ever retract from their reconciliation. I beseech you also to point out the just penalties levied on the joint frauds of Rebekah and Jacob. After she sent him to Laban, she never more beheld him: and even she herself disappears; for no further mention is made of her by upright, truth-loving Moses, — no, not so much as of her death, while of only her nurse Deborah is much honoring record.”

Miss Shepherd died at an advanced age in 1815.

In referring to some of the good men for whom Dr. Clarke cherished a personal and peculiar love, we should give the highest place to Mr.

Wesley. For him Adam Clarke ever felt the reverence of a disciple, and the sacred affection of a son; and, to his latest days, the memory of tokens of the particular esteem with which that distinguished servant of God had regarded him, yielded a ceaseless consolation and joy.

Among the friends of his early manhood was Andrew Coleman, who had been a schoolfellow with him at Agherton, and afterwards became one of the first-fruits of his ministry, and, like himself, a preacher of the Gospel.

One of the first essays of Adam Clarke’s pen was a memorial of this young evangelist’s short but beautiful career, in which he writes in simple and heart-moving terms of the very tender friendship which subsisted between these two.” He fell asleep in Jesus, June 18th, 1786, aged eighteen years; and soon gained the blessed region where the inhabitant shall no more say, “I am sick.” He had the happiness of seeing his mother and grandmother brought to an acquaintance with the truth before his departure; and his last words to them, as his purified soul prepared to take its flight into the eternal world, were, “Follow me.”

Another of his Irish friends was Alexander Knox, Esq., a gentleman whose name is well known in the literary and ecclesiastical circles of both islands, as an elegant theological scholar, and a man of influence in the Church of England. He was a most intimate friend of the late Bishop Jebb. His parents were Methodists, and he himself was a devoted admirer of Wesley, whose principles on experimental religion found a deep response in his heart, and kept him, in later years, from going further than he evidently would have otherwise gone, into that semi-Romish Utopia where so many churchmen in our day have wandered to no profit.

In Samuel Drew, the Cornish metaphysician, the Lord gave to the juvenile ministry of Mr. Clarke a convert who will indeed shine in his “crown of rejoicing” in the day of Christ. Drew soon became a preacher, and his father in the Gospel was, not a little proud of him in that capacity. His high opinion of him, as an expositor of the truth in the pulpit, was frequently expressed in terms of characteristic warmth. The sanctified life and useful labors of this Christian philosopher were ever contemplated by his friend with an apostolic triumph. “These two” also are made eternally one in spirit, through Him who redeemed them, converted them, employed them in His service, and hath now glorified them together.

Of the Rev. John Pawson we have spoken before. Methodism in her traditions has placed him among her saints. Between him and Dr. Clarke there grew up a friendship which never died. The last act of Pawson was to write these words: “Wakefield, Friday, March 28th, 1806. O, my Adam, my most affectionately beloved and esteemed friend and brother, for whom God knoweth I ever had a sincere regard, but now tenfold more than ever, — what I have experienced of the power, goodness, unmerited mercy and love of God, during this affliction, is not to be described. O, the soul-transporting views of that heavenly felicity with which my soul hath been favored Praise the Name of the Lord with me, and for me; and tell all my beloved London friends, that John Pawson dies a witness of the saving power of those precious truths which have been taught, and believed, and experienced among us from the beginning.”

A veteran of the same stamp was the Rev. James Creighton, one of the clergymen of the Establishment who adhered to Mr. Wesley, and took part in the Methodist ministry; a man of learning, and of useful life both in the pulpit and the press. His last testimony also occurs in a letter to Dr. Clarke: “I am endeavoring to weather out the last storms of life, hoping ere long to gain the port at last. I have had a pretty rough passage of it, all the way; but I am fully convinced that it was best so, and that the repose will be the sweeter when we get to the haven where we would be. ‘O, what is death? ‘Tis life’s last shore, Where vanities are vain no more; Where all pursuits their goal obtain, And life is all retouch’d again.’

I bless God I have no fear, nor gloomy thought; yet it is not ecstasy or triumph, — a calm internal peace, with a firm reliance on the promises of God, through the atoning blood.”

Mr Richard Mabyn, of Camelford, at whose house Mr. Clarke in his Cornish days found a pleasant home, had in him a loving and devoted friend. When each had become a much older man, Dr. Clarke, in one of his letters to Mr. Mabyn, writes thus: “I may say that but few hours together have elapsed since the year 1784, in which I have not thought of you and my most affectionate mother Mabyn; and I have never thought of you without a blessed mixture of gratitude to my benefactor, reverence to my teacher, warm affection to my parent, and delight to my friend.”

Joseph Carne, Esq., F.R.S., of Penzance, as well as his venerable father, William Carne, Esq., had a high place in the esteem of Dr. Clarke, both for the great debt which the cause of Methodism owes to those gentlemen in the West of Cornwall, and for the scientific, religious, and social eminence of a family at whose house the Doctor in his occasional visits always found a most congenial sojourn. Of the late Mr. Exley, of Bristol, the brother-in-law and friend of Dr. Clarke, I can scarcely trust myself to begin to write, lest the terms which the feelings of my heart dictate should wear the injurious look of exaggeration. He was a man admirable not only for acuteness of intellect, and profound mathematical and scientific research, but for simplicity of character, benevolence of feeling, and sanctity of life. He wrote several works in the higher branches of science; and an exposition of the first chapter of Genesis, in which he seeks to harmonize the Mosaic history of the Creation with the conclusions of modern geology. To the Methodists in Bristol, among whom he had been a member, leader, and local preacher for half a century, growing in grace, and turning many to righteousness, the death of Thomas Exley was like the going out of a lamp in the temple of God.

The name of another inestimable brother-in-law of Dr. Clarke, Mr.

Butterworth, — for many years member of Parliament, for Coventry and for Dover, highly respected by men in the first ranks, — has already appeared with frequency in the foregoing pages. In him the country lost a faithful servant, the church a faithful member, and the poor a faithful friend. Take an instance: One day in each week he received at his own house the applications of such as needed pecuniary relief, or advice in their exigencies [urgent needs, emergencies]. His servant, on being once asked how many petitioners he had on that day admitted, answered, “Nearly a hundred.” Into these cases Mr. Butterworth entered, in order to make his charities at once discriminating and efficient. The religious and social character of this good man is ably unfolded in a Funeral Sermon by the Rev. Richard Watson, preached at Great Queen-street chapel, on the words of St. Paul, Galatians 1:24: “And they glorified God in me.”

The Rev. Henry Moore must also be mentioned as one of Dr. Clarke’s early companions, and as his counselor too; a fellowlaborer with him in the same ministry for fifty years, and also the sorrowing friend who committed at last his remains to the grave. I may state it as a noticeable fact, that Mr. Moore performed the funeral solemnities over five members of the family. He buried the Doctor himself, in 1832; Mrs. Clarke, in 1836; one of their sons, and two of their grandchildren, in 1840, — himself being then in the eighty-eighth year of his age.

That eminent Greek scholar, the late Hugh Stuart Boyd, Esq., stood related to Dr. Clarke, not only by consanguinity [having common ancestors; kinship], but by a cordial sympathy of disposition, and, so far as learning is regarded, of employment and pursuit, as well. In classical and patristic erudition [learning] he was second to few of his contemporaries. He was remarkable for the strength of what may be called a verbal memory, which he well improved by enriching his mind with choice passages of the sacred and classic writers. I have now on my desk a memorandum dictated by himself, entitled “The Number of Lines which I can repeat:” namely, — “Greek prose: Septuagint, 30; Greek Testament, 120; Gregory Nazianzen, 1,860; Basil, 460; Chrysostom, 640; Gregory Nyssen, 15; Methodius, 35; Heliodoros, 30; a few passages of heathen writers, 90. Total of Greek prose, 3,280. — Greek verse: Greg. Naz. Carmina, 1,310; Synesii Hyroni, 156; Homer, 330; Aeschylus, 1,800; Sophocles, 430; Euripides, 350; Pindar, 90; Melea ger, 83; Bion, 91; Moschus, 120; Poem in Life of Plotinus, 10. Total of Greek verse, 4,770. — I cannot repeat many hundred lines in one consecutive series. The longest passage of prose which I can repeat is 322 lines; the longest of verse, 270 lines. “If I keep the passages from the Septuagint and New Testament for Sundays, and repeat the rest on week-days, they will occupy four weeks, if I repeat about 327 lines a day. The lines from Aeschylus are equal to more than one-fifth of the whole of his Tragedies now extant.”

Mr. Boyd published two volumes of translations, consisting of passages from the most eloquent of the Fathers, especially Chrysostom, Basil, and Nazianzen. He also wrote a dissertation on the Greek Article, especially viewed in its use in passages of the New Testament which have a bearing on the grand truth of the Godhead of Christ. The piece is inserted in Dr. Clarke’s Commentary, at the end of the Epistle to the Ephesians: though we may just remark that the learned commentator himself had no great faith in what may he called the grammatico-theological doctrine of the Greek Article.

Mr. Boyd suffered in his latter years from loss of sight; but Divine mercy had so blessedly enlightened the eyes of his mind as to enable him to see and love Him who is invisible. He had those qualities of character which attracted friendships and kept them inviolate. His blindness is the theme of a sonnet by Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who studied Greek under Mr. Boyd’s tuition; and with what effect, her spirited translation of the “Prometheus Bound” will testify. There is another sonnet in the same volume, occasioned by the death of Mr. Boyd in 1848; in which she sings of the feelings excited by some tokens of friendship he bequeathed to her. “Three gifts the Dying left me, — Aeschylos, And Gregory Nazianzen, and a clock, Chiming the gradual hours out like a flock Of stars whose motion is melodious. The books were those I used to read from,thus Assisting my dear Teacher’s soul to unlock The darkness of his eyes. Now mine they mock, Blinded in turn by tears! Now murmurous Sad echoes of my young voice years agone, Entoning from these leaves the Grecian phrase, Return, and choke my utterance. Books, lie down In silence on the shelf within my gaze; And thou, clock, striking the hour’s pulses on, Chime in the day which ends these parting days.”

Mr. Boyd has left a large collection of papers, which should not he suffered to perish in oblivion. Many of his letters also to Dr. Clarke are richly worthy of publication.

Another literary friend of Dr. Clarke, Mr. Charles Fox, we have already had occasion to mention, With that accomplished person, when resident in Bristol, he passed many a profitable hour, in the cultivation of those Eastern studies with which they had both become enamored; and when each had removed from that locality, they still corresponded for mutual help. Nor was Mr. Clarke’s communication with his friend without a most beneficial religious, as well as intellectual, fruitage; as it tended to confirm his somewhat wavering mind in the truth of the Gospel, and to lead him to seek and find the salvation of God. Mr. Fox was the author of an extensive poem called “Leila and Mejnoon,” written after the manner of the Persian poet Hafiz. This, together with several other manuscripts, came into Mr.

Clarke’s care after the death of the author.

With these and many others, whose names, if recorded here, would swell into a long and sad necrology [a list of recently dead people], Dr. Clarke lived in those beneficial intercourses which gave a solace to their earthly life, and helped to fit them for a heavenly one.

Dr. Clarke’s was a friendly heart, kind and considerate. He wished to avoid giving offence to anyone, as much as in him lay, and was pained at the thought of having possibly done it inadvertently. Here is an instance: — he had been to the Isle of Wight, and, during a short sojourn at West Cowes, the guest of Mr. Charles Pinhorn, a worthy gentleman who is now almost the only surviving relict of the first generation of Methodists in the island, Mr. Pinhorn, being in London shortly after, sought an interview with the Doctor, but was unable to see him except for a few minutes in the vestry of Lambeth chapel before Dr. Clarke went into the pulpit. The following extract of a letter he received shortly after from the Doctor will illustrate our remark: — “My Dear Sir, — I wish there may be no mistake in our meeting last Sabbath at Lambeth. When I came down into the vestry after preaching, I looked about to see you; but, not finding you, I asked some of the friends, ‘Did they know whether Mr. Pinhorn, of the Isle of Wight, who was in the vestry when I first entered it this morning, had left the chapel?’ They said they did not know. ‘ Will you look into the chapel and see?’ One and other said they did not know him. I waited several minutes, but no appearance of Mr.

Pinhorn. I was vexed, because I wished to speak to you; and I thought my apparently distant manner might have given you offence. The truth is, I hardly speak to any person before I enter the pulpit. I generally feel the work much on my mind, and avoid as much as possible speaking even to my most intimate friends, till I come down from the pulpit. If, therefore, there appeared in me any slight or neglect towards you, put it far away from your mind, for I assure you it had no existence; and this letter, written simply on the subject, is a proof that nothing of the kind was either in the intention or the feeling. I do not know that I have ever been in any strange place for these many years, in which I was so well pleased with the affectionate respect that was paid me as in West Cowes You have been once, I am informed, at my house, when I happened to be on a journey. If you ever come near the place again, and will spend a night with us, and look about you, I shall be glad to see you.”

The frequent removals to which a Methodist minister is liable, broke in upon the continuity of personal converse, but never obliterated the image of a friend from his heart. When, journeying, he revisited an old Circuit, he improved every hour in reviving the feelings of the ‘auld lang syne” at the homes and hearths which memory had rendered sacred; and some of his letters to Mrs. Clarke, written at those times, are crowded with the details of these rapid and numerous visits. His friendships had the seal of perpetuity; and with few men have there been so small a number of exceptions. When such did occur, they grieved his generous mind. But these cases were rare: the love which grew up between Adam Clarke and those who were worthy of his affection, proved itself stronger than the storms of life, or the tides of death; and those of the number who still survive him cherish the memory of the words and acts by which that love was expressed, among the most sacred treasures of the heart.

CHAPTER 5

THE HUSBAND

We have already narrated the circumstances in which this holy relation was entered upon by the subject of our memoir. The union then consecrated endured, with an ever-effectual benediction, through the long years of a diversified but happy life. In the case of Adam Clarke and Mary Cooke, the marriage solemnity was the outward and visible sign of an inward, spiritual, and imperishable oneness, — the sacrament of an everlasting love.

In the partner of his life Dr. Clarke ever found that Providence had given him “a help meet.” Mrs. Clarke possessed not merely the graces of a pleasing exterior; but those inward virtues of which St. Peter speaks as the true adorning of the holy woman, and which are in the sight of God of great price. She had a cultivated mind, a sound judgment, and a regenerated heart. She was the worthy companion, and often to good results the wise counselor and serviceable helper, of her hard-working and grateful husband.

A mother in Israel, and a mother at home, she brought up a large family, and at the same time fulfilled what Mr. Wesley called, in reference to her gracious conduct, “the office of a deaconess,” in discharging, in every Circuit, the duties of a class-leader and a visitor of the sick and poor.

These good works were coeval [began and existed together] with her religious life. At Trowbridge, where she was brought up, she no sooner became a subject of converting grace, than it displayed its effects in those incipient efforts at usefulness by which Miss Cooke was enabled to give important aid to the then feeble cause of Methodism in that town. So, onward from year to year, through the course of her extended life, with ever-enlarging knowledge and deepening experience, she labored with unobtrusive but successful endeavor to lead persons of her own sex into and onward in the way to heaven.

At home, her influence formed the character of a remarkable family, the members of which in death and life have called her blessed. As to her husband, in all the changing scenes of their chequered history, her abiding and sanctified love, revealing itself in ceaseless ministries for his and their comfort in mind, body, and estate, shed a ray of solace upon the darkest hours, and heightened and perfected the bliss of those which were most prosperous.

It is only to give a more true idea of this lovely character that I take the liberty to select a few sentences from one or two of her letters to Mr.

Clarke. The following gives a specimen of those dispositions, sweet and blessed, which gave such a charm to his home. It was written so far back as the year 1791, at the time when they were just leaving Dublin for Liverpool; Mr. Clarke having already left for the Manchester Conference. I may just observe, that her beautiful writing is in the old Italian hand, so unlike the insignificant and illegible scrawl in which some young ladies are now taught to afflict the eyes of those who have the task of reading their compositions. “My spirit deeply feels how tedious are the moments of separation.

Indeed, my best-beloved, as thou art all the world to me, so now, in losing thee, I wofully experience that I have lost all things except my God.

Blessed be His holy name, He supports me still; and, was it not for His peculiar aid at this time, my heart would sink into hopeless melancholy.

My spirits are exceedingly low, and the friends’ well-meant and kind officiousness serves to increase the dejection they strive to remove. The Turk, poor compassionate creature, says, ‘You cry so much, no good, no good; consume you.’ Yesterday I was very weak; in the evening could just stand alone. Through the night, while the rain poured in torrents against the windows, gloomy were my thoughts of the worst that could befall you. All the horrors of shipwreck were in a lively manner present to my imagination. At length I found something like composure from the thought that perhaps at the coming on of the rain the wind changed in your favor I have today gathered my little unpacked things into one place. This has helped to draw my mind from the thought of separation, and to bring the idea of reunion, seeing all my stuff and little matters drawn up in order for embarkation. Today I feel better, because I hope by this time you are in Liverpool. If we follow, we have promises of company. William Higley is determined on the voyage; and the poor Turk, if spared, will be our companion. He says, ‘Me no sick: me take care John and Adam. Madame Clarke sick, Phoebe sick.’ John is recovered charmingly, and with returning health he is also getting his good tempers back again. Adam is but poorly, thin, and sickly. I cannot help thinking that he will by and by follow his precious sister. I see her in him more and more.

From another letter: “Bristol, 1789. — Mary Clarke to the dearly beloved of her spirit wisheth all peace, with every present and future blessing his heart can desire, or the God of love and omnipotence bestow. I have been led this morning to pray that my dear husband may be assisted by the Spirit of wisdom and power to declare the counsel of the Holy One unto the people; and in consequence I feel a comfortable persuasion that his word shall not fail of some good effect. I have often a presentiment of the power of the coming word, by having (as it seems) an infused energetic cry after it in my soul. I know not when I have felt more of it than last Thursday week, in the evening, when, immediately after singing the verse preceding the sermon, every power of my spirit instinctively (if I may say so) ascended in one ardent ejaculation, ‘Grant, O my God, the spirit of wisdom unto the speaker, and let Thy power be manifested now among the people!’ My soul then returned in confidence that a blessing should be given. Directly you gave out for a text, ‘The work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever.’ If you look back, you will remember that I believed not in vain, but according to my faith so was it then; and so have I generally found it “I am myself nearly as well as I can yet expect to be; but suffered much, very much, yesterday, by abstaining some hours too long from food. But from painful experience perhaps I shall learn a lesson of wisdom. As for little John, he is loving and saucy, and would give you a hundred kisses if you were here, though you sent him never a one Frances sends her love; and as for me, believe that with all possible affection I am thine most truly.”

When, in subsequent years, the Doctor was carrying on his extensive literary undertakings, the few hours he could spare for the pen were rendered more unbroken than otherwise they could possibly have been, by the intervention of Mrs. Clarke in receiving visitors and transacting minor affairs connected with the business of the Society and Circuit; with which, by practice, she had become as conversant as any superintendent among us. She kept all the book-accounts; in the Doctor’s absence on his numerous journeys, opened all the letters which came for him, and, condensing the contents of them within the compass of one, for the saving of postage, transmitted it as a report to him. Thus, under date, “London, February, 1806,” she states that one letter was from Mr. _____, asking the loan of a few pounds; another, from Mr. Wrigley, concerning moneymatters of Mr. S_____; another, from Mr. Boyd, containing family-affairs; another, from Mr. Entwisle, just arrived, “which I have not yet had time to read through, but chiefly relating to chapel-building, expenditure, and whys and means, all submitted to you, as chairman of the District;” another, from Mr. Mr. Q_____, “the largest size folio-sheet, full, full on all sides and in every corner. It contains many good things, many learned things, many strange things, many unaccountable things, with the promise of many more things yet to come. A bundle of letters also, of three folio sheets, is come from Mr. Drew, addressed to Mr. Woolmer, and sent by him for Mr. Benson, to publish in the Magazine. It is a dialogue between himself and a Deist, on the top of a coach.”

It will be evident that Dr. Clarke’s confidence in his wife was perfect. He had no secrets to conceal from her, nor wished to have. Their minds were in sound and healthy unison. His own personal life, and his public life, with all its encouragements and discouragements, were perfectly known to her; and that, with a return of gentle and wise counsel, and holy comfort, which greatly smoothed his pathway.

By her pen, too, she helped her husband not a little. She would transcribe a manuscript for the press and at times, I imagine, she lent some aid in original composition, getting forward such works as admitted of that kind of participation. I speak not on this point with certainty, except the degree of it which may be gathered from an expression here and there of the Doctor’s. Thus, writing to her from Ireland: “Cannot you and John prepare a few sheets of the Concordance? The book is in the back study, and he knows the volume of Calmet from whence he is to correct the proper names. See YOU do the definitions, if there be any. A few sheets will do.”

While engaged on the Commentary, “it was his frequent practice, at the close of the day at Millbrook, to read the notes he had written to Mrs.

Clarke, and take her opinion of them. Sometimes, after he had done work, she would read aloud to him and the listening family some amusing and instructive book.” Such was she of whom it is no small honor to say, that she was worthy of being the wife of Dr. Adam Clarke. And for a more ample account of this exemplary lady I refer the reader to a work published by her daughter in 1851, with the title of “Mrs. Adam Clarke, her Character and Correspondence;” a volume which deserves a place by the side of the Memoirs of Mrs. Fletcher, Lady Maxwell, Mrs. Hester Ann Rogers, Mrs.

Tatham, Mrs. Agnes Bulmer, and those other sanctified females whose “Holy Living has adorned so beautifully the religious communion to which they belonged.

Dr. Clarke knew the value of the gift which Heaven had conferred upon him in this companion of his days. With each passing year his love became more tender, and the honor in which he held her, more high and sacred. The anniversary of their wedding was always a time of grateful joy. On one of those days, being away, he writes to her: “This day I have kept with comfort for above forty years. You are more regardless of these kinds of observances than I naturally am: with me such things have much weight; and now, being absent, I wish to show you that I carry the remembrance of it, and my respect for it, two hundred miles beyond my own dwelling.” On another, he presents her with a tender poem; and on another, with a gold watch, — “the beautiful dial of which,” he tells her, “is an emblem of thy face; the delicate pointers, of thy hands; and the balance, of thy conduct in thy family.” The only difference which the lapse of years made in his admiration of her was to strengthen it. Cowper’s sweet lines seem as if they had been written to express the sentiments of this true-hearted spouse: — “Thy silver locks, once auburn bright, Are still more lovely in my sight Than golden beams of orient light, My Mary. “To be the same through good and ill, In wintry change to feel no chill, With me is to be lovely still, My Mary.”

In truth, religion, with its ever indestructible and celestial band, had made their union everlasting. They were one in Christ, and were persuaded that neither death nor life, nor things present, nor things to come, could separate them. They knew that, when time with them would be no more, they should live together with the Lord; and in the years of this life they lived to Him. For the God before whom they walked, and who had fed them all their days, and redeemed them, was their sun and shield, giving them grace, and about to give them glory, they walking uprightly. Their wish and vow, their purpose and their prayer, so to do, and so to be, might have been well told in the words which Lavater, in one of his household hymns, puts upon the lips of a Christian wife and husband To bear, endure, and love, and give, Be ours long as on earth we live; In tranquil confidence of soul, To consecrate to Thee our whole Made wiser with the flight of days, In joy and sorrow, Thee to praise; Till, in blest death, our souls depart, Till we behold Thee as Thou art.

CHAPTER 6

THE FATHER

Of the twelve children of Dr. and Mrs. Clarke, two died in infancy, four others in childhood; and of the six who rose to be men and women, three daughters only survive. The loss of the six, one after another, bent the parents in unutterable grief. “None,” says the father, when the first of these afflictions occurred, “none can tell our woe. I feel I have lost part of my own being in the loss of my child. Jesus, Thou Son of David, have mercy upon us. Thou Eternal Power, we bow before Thee, we submit to Thee.” In training aright those who lived, Dr. Clarke found the solace, as well as the solicitude, of his life.

Though so extensive an itinerant, he was nevertheless greatly in love with the domestic state, and never so happy as when be had his children around him. Once when Mr. Ward of Dutham called on him when in London, “on being ushered into the room, he found him seated with one child on his knee, encircled in an arm; another child in the cradle, which he was rocking to repose with his foot; a book in one hand, which he was attentively reading, and a potato in the other.” A scene like this might have been often witnessed.

When the labors of the study were over, he used to amuse himself with his little ones, who quickly assembled at his well-known call of “Come all about me!” Then was heard the joyous shout, along with the rush of the youngsters to claim the first kiss, or obtain the best seat upon his knee.

Sometimes he would dispose of them on his person; one round his neck, one hanging on each shoulder, one clasping his waist, one seated on each foot: and with an infant in his arms, he would, thus furnished, be the happiest of the group. The sports of the evening finished, each alternately kneeled at their mother’s knee, for prayer; and when ready for repose, Mr.

Clarke, when not out preaching, “invariably carried them himself up to bed, put or playfully threw them in, and tucked them up for the night.

But, before retiring himself, he always visited each bed, to see if all was right. To his well-known voice, pretty early in the morning, they would start up, unpin each child its own bundle of clothes, (which almost from in fancy it had been taught to fold up,) and dress with all possible expedition for, from childhood, he would never permit waste of time by dilatory habits, any more than slovenly neglect through affected attempts at expedition.” — So writes one of the family.

In their secular education, he not only afforded them the privilege of his own tuition, but, as his ministerial duties would render all systematic operation impossible, he was careful to secure them the best professional instruction within his resources. He was not content without giving his daughters a useful and elegant, and his sons a practical and learned, education. But, above all, it was Mr. Clarke’s supreme concern to give them a Christian one; to implant in their memory at the very outset of life, when dogmatic instruction becomes a necessity, those absolute truths which, under the influence of the blessed Spirit of God, will develop in the soul and the conduct the virtues of holiness and religion to illustrate those truths in cheerful yet serious conversation to try to exemplify them in his own spirit, temper, and behavior, before their eyes letting them see Christ in him, and thus drawing them by the cords of a man, and by the bands of love, to his Savior and theirs. He knew that their renewal unto salvation must be the work of God; but he knew, also, that he, as their father, had duties to perform which might be instrumentally indispensable toward that blessed result. “Let those parents,” he would say, “who continue to excuse themselves by observing, ‘ We cannot give grace to our children,’ lay their hand on their heart, and say whether they ever knew an instance where God withheld His grace while they were, in humble subserviency to Him, fulfilling their duty? The real state of the case is this: Parents cannot do God’s work, and God will not do theirs; but, if they use the means, He will never withhold the blessing.”

In the parental government of his children, Mr. Clarke blended an inflexible integrity of discipline with a cheerful open-hearted love. He considered that these should be united in a father’s conduct toward his rising family. “It is not personal fondness,” remarked he, “nor parental authority, taken separately, that can produce beneficial effect. A father may be as fond of his offspring as Eli, and his children be sons of Belial; he may be as authoritative as the Grand Turk, and his children despise and plot rebellion against him. But let parental authority be tempered with fatherly affection, and let the rein of discipline be steadily held by this powerful but affectionate hand, and there shall the pleasure of God prosper. Many fine families have been spoiled, and many ruined, by the separate exercise of these two principles. The first sort of parents will be loved, without being respected; the second will be dreaded, without either respect or esteem.”

He was a frequent correspondent with his children when away from them.

On his journeys he would describe to them remarkable localities, with their historical associations, rendering his letters both instructive and engaging.

At other times he reiterated with his pen the solemn counsels which they had often heard from his lips. Thus, to one of his daughters at school: “Youth is the time in which learning can be obtained. I find that I can now remember very little but what I learned when I was young. I have, it is true, acquired many things since; but it has been with difficulty, and I cannot retain them as I did those which I gained in my youth.”

And again, from another letter: “All, my dear child, that can be done for you by human means, is being done: but, to make you what you should be, you must look to God, that He may supply that teaching which is beyond the power of human influence and skill; and, that you may get it, you must be sensible that you need it, and must pray to God to give you that sensibility, — that is, that He may show you how stupid, foolish, and ignorant you are in all matters which concern the salvation of your soul, and how much you stand in need of that pardon and holiness which were purchased by the agony and bloody sweat, the cross and passion, the death and burial, the glorious resurrection and ascension, of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Pray for these blessings, and do not be contented without them; and then you will be not merely ‘worthy of your father,’ who is a poor worthless creature, but worthy of that glorious name of Christian which you bear; and, being a partaker of the Divine nature, God will count you worthy of an inheritance among the saints in light.”

So when, as years passed on, the young people entered upon life for themselves, he still, by intercession with God, and by all kind offices within his own power, endeavored to promote their welfare. On the birth of a granddaughter we find him writing as follows: — “To Joseph and Matilda Clarke: May the blessing, grace, and peace of the eternal, allglorious, infinitely perfect, and ineffably benevolent Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, One incomprehensible and adorable Deity, the Creator, Preserver, and Redeemer of mankind, rest on, ever support, and eternally save our son Joseph B. B. Clarke, his wife Matilda, and their firstborn child, by whatsoever name she may be called. May he, our son Joseph, in his sacred office ever preach Jesus the Christ, by the power of the Holy Ghost, to the conviction of sinners, the conversion of penitents, and the establishment of believers on their most holy faith! May Matilda his wife be ever blessed as a mother and a Christian, and live long distinguished by all the graces that adorn those characters! And may their firstborn child grow up in stature and favor with God and man! And may she and her parents live long, innocently, piously, and usefully; and, after having served their God in their generation, may they triumph over death in a glorious resurrection! May they be united to the Father of Eternity, through the Son of His love, by the Eternal Spirit, to contemplate the Divine perfections, to see them as they are, and thus to enjoy an unutterable happiness, where duration is eternal, and where time shall be no more. Amen! Amen!”

To and for another, his daughter Mary Ann, on her birthday: “Sovereign of the heavens and of the earth! behold this my daughter on the anniversary of her birth. I bring her before Thee: Fill her with Thy light, life, and power. As in Thee she lives, moves, and has her being, so may she ever live to Thee! Strengthen her, O Thou Almighty; instruct and counsel her, O Thou Omniscient! Be her Prop, her Stay, her Shield, and her Sword. Put all her enemies under her feet; deck her with glory and honor; make her an example to her family, a pattern of piety to her friends, a solace to the poor, and a teacher of wisdom to those who are ignorant and out of the way. By her may Thy name be glorified, and in her may the most adorable Saviour ever see of the travail of His soul, and be satisfied. Amen, amen.

So be it; and let her heart hear and feel THY Amen, which is, So it shall be.

Hallelujah.”

Habitually happy as he was in the bosom of his family, there were occasions which had an especial and sacred joyousness in the domestic history. Such was that when parents and children alike received the holy sacrament together; thus acting, as the Doctor expressed it, “like a patriarchal family of old, et cum Deo inire foedus, making a covenant with God, which should put them in an especial manner under His protection.”

Such, also, was that when, the Commentary being finished, the sons and daughters “determined on presenting their father with a large silver vase, in memorial of the completion of a work which they had seen him so long, so laboriously, and so anxiously prosecuting Without acquainting the Doctor with the purpose of the invitation, the two elder sons requested their parents and the family to dine with them in St. John-square. After dinner, the vase, covered from the sight, was introduced and placed at the head of the table. Dr. Clarke’s eldest son then rose, and in the name of each of the family uncovered and offered it, with an appropriate address, to their revered parent. For a few moments he sat incapable of utterance; then, regarding them all, he rose, spread his hands over this token of his children’s love, and pronounced his blessing upon them individually and collectively. “His eldest son then filled the vase with wine, which his father raised first to his own lips, then to those of his beloved wife, and afterwards bore it to each of the family present: he then put it down, and in a strain of the most heartfelt eloquent tenderness addressed his children in the name of their revered mother and himself in terms they will never forget.”

Of the three sons of Dr. Clarke who survived him, each has now followed his parents to the other world. The eldest, John Wesley Clarke, was a gentleman whose extensive antiquarian and heraldic studies both qualified him for the situation he held under government, and, combined with a genial sociality of disposition, rendered him a most agreeable companion.

He had a great love for the science of botany, and delighted to spend whole weeks in the country in pursuing it, during which he would domesticate himself in cottage or farm-house, and live as one of the family. He was a loving son and brother. He died after a short illness in February, 1840, and was buried with his parents at City-road chapel.

Theodoret Samuel Clarke, after an apprenticeship to Mr. Woodfall the printer carried on that business for some years; during which he continued and finished the printing of his father’s Commentary, which had been begun by Woodfall. Theodoret’s education and subsequent studies enabled him to superintend accurately the typography of that work, which abounds with quotations from the biblical, classical, and Eastern languages.

Thus the Commentary was, as we may say, the work of the family. The Doctor wrote it, the sons printed, and Mr. Butterworth the brother-ia-law, published it. Theodoret left business, and went abroad for a time but after his return lived generally near his parents, spending his days in various works of usefulness. He died at Brighton in 1843, in the faith and hope of the Gospel.

The Rev. Joseph Butterworth Bulmer Clarke was, of all his sons, the one most after his father’s own heart. Some time after the completion of a good school-education, followed by the privilege of reading Greek with his relative, Mr. Boyd, he was entered of Trinity College, Cambridge, where he graduated Bachelor and Master. In July, 1825, he was ordained by the archbishop of York, I believe as curate to Archdeacon Wrangham. He afterwards held two curacies in London, was appointed chaplain to the duke of Sussex, became incumbent of St. Matthew’s, Liverpool, and then removed to Henbury, near Bristol, where he married (Miss Brook) the lady who so largely shared with him some of the labors of his enlarged sphere of ecclesiastical duty, as curate of Frome, and then rector of West Bagborough, near Taunton, and inspector of schools for the diocese of Bath and Wells; an office which called forth powers with which he was admirably endowed for its faithful discharge. His printed reports show not only great official diligence, but a philosophical and Christian estimate of the principles of education, giving them a claim to permanent consideration. The bishop showed his appreciation of Mr. Clarke by giving him a prebendal [the stipend of a canon or member of chapter stall in the cathedral of Wells. We have seen how he assisted his father in bringing out the second volume of the “Sacred Literature,” a task for which he was soundly qualified by his classical and patristic learning. He published also a volume of sermons, and a Bibliography of Oriental manuscripts in his father’s library. He had, especially in his last years, a strong personal resemblance to the Doctor. This amiable clergyman died rather suddenly at Nice, in 1854, in the fifty-eighth year of his age. He had gone abroad with his family, for the sake of their health and his own; and, leaving them at Nice, had come again to England to discharge some pressing duties. This done, he returned to his family, and on the way, turning aside to visit the tomb of a beloved son who had died two years before at Toulon, and been interred at Hieres, he was himself seized with sudden death from a malady of the heart, and was buried with his son, among the myrtles and palm trees in the cemetery at Hieres.

CHAPTER 7

THE SAINT, — IN LIFE AND DEATH

There needs no concluding eloge on the religious character of Dr. Adam Clarke, as his whole biography is one. Let the readers look back and form their own estimate. His personal and public life was one sustained manifestation of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost; and the record of it, traced on these pages, is designed not to exalt idolatrously a fellow-creature, but to offer an humble tribute to the praise and glory of that sovereign grace which made itself apparent in his whole history. “The saints,” as Luther said, “are not to be praised for themselves, but for their Savior; they shine like dew-drops on the hair of the heavenly Bridegroom.” faa1 The sanctified glorify the Sanctifier. Such was the principle which governed Dr. Clarke’s inward and outward life, — that Christ in all things might be magnified.

The varied experiences of his inner and spiritual life are not sufficiently known to warrant an attempt, on our part, to give a professed account of them. The biographies of many good men are enriched with extracts from registries made by themselves of the dealings of Divine grace with their souls. But Dr. Clarke left no such documents. Indeed, he appears to have been averse from things of that kind. He began to keep a diary, but left it off as early as 1785. When sometimes asked whether he would not publish his journal, or leave it to be published, he used to say, “I do not intend any such thing: the experience of all religious people is nearly alike; in the main entirely so. When you have read the journal of one pious man of common sense, you have read a thousand. After the first, it is only a change of names, times, and places: all the rest is alike.” The Rev. Joseph Clarke, knowing his father’s mind, committed those early journals to the flames. faa2 Dr. Clarke’s religious experience was the work of God’s Holy Spirit in the soul; begun, continued, and perfected. It was begun in true regeneration.

That adorable Being who alone “can bring a clean thing out of an unclean” renewed his heart in righteousness; and to the grace thus given in his youthful prime Adam Clarke was faithful. Day by day he watched unto prayer, and walked humbly with God. Working out his salvation with fear and trembling, while God wrought within him to will and to do of His own good pleasure, he became established in grace, and endured to the end.

He sought and found — what every man is obligated to seek, and every Christian believer privileged to find — the clear knowledge of pardon, and of adoption to be a child of God; and the witness of his acceptance in the Beloved was never removed from his soul. In his autobiography he gives an unequivocal statement to that effect. It appears also, in a letter written to Mr. Wesley, when Mr. Clarke was in the Norwich Circuit in 1784, that, while at Trowbridge, he had received powerful convictions of a need of the entire sanctification of his heart; that he had become acquainted with a good man, a local preacher, “who,” says he, “was a partaker of this precious privilege; and from him I received some encouragement and direction to set out in quest of it, endeavoring, with all my strength, to believe in the ability and willingness of my God to accomplish the great work. Soon after this, while earnestly wrestling with the Lord in prayer, and endeavoring, self desperately, to believe, I found a change wrought i n my soul, which I endeavored through grace to maintain amid grievous temptations. My indulgent Saviour continued to support me, and enabled me with all my power to preach the glad tidings to others.” These sanctifying graces were evidently strengthened during the latter part of his residence in the Norman Isles, on the bed of sickness in Dublin, and in the days of labor at Manchester, Liverpool, Bristol, and London; diffusing their effectual influence on all his life.

On the witness of the Holy Spirit to our adoption I heard him preach a sermon only a few months before he ceased to be among us; in which, after reminding us that there can be no true happiness for man but in the enjoyment of the favor of God, he went on to prove that such felicity must be impossible without a testimony from God to the conscience that He adopts the pardoned sinner to be His child; and that this evidence is not to be inferred merely from texts of Scripture, however rightly applied, but ascertained from an interior oracle of the Holy Ghost, creating peace in believing, and inspiring the dispositions by which we say in life and word, “Abba, Father!” “This,” said be, “is what I wish you not to rest without.

Do not face death without it: do not! How awful to go to appear before the living God, if you have not the testimony in your own souls that you are born of Him! John Bunyan well describes a poor, wretched, selfdeceived pilgrim, who had trusted to a vague and general belief, without actual conversion, coming to the gate of the celestial city, but refused an entrance, because ‘he had no certificate to be taken in.’ ‘He fumbled,’ says he, ‘in his bosom for it, but he found none. Then I saw the shining ones commanded to bind him head and heels, and throw him into the hole at the side of the hill.’ Beware, lest thou art as he.”

This calm assurance was maintained in Dr. Clarke by the habit and life of faith. “What have I to boast, or trust in?” writes he: “I exult in nothing, but the eternal, impartial, and indescribable kindness of the ever-blessed God; and I trust in nothing but in the infinite merit of the sacrifice of Christ, a ruined world’s Saviour, and the Almighty’s Fellow. Then, what have I to dread? Nothing. What have I to expect? All possible good; as much as Christ has purchased, as much as heaven can dispense. ‘The Lord is my Shepherd, and I shall not want.’” He was often exceedingly blessed in his own soul, in the pulpit, while made a blessing to hundreds. Thus on one occasion, as already mentioned, he exclaimed, “I would not have missed coming to this place today for five hundred pounds. I got my own soul blessed, and God has blessed the people.”

This good teacher was himself teachable. We have remarked with what docility he would sit at the feet of the humblest Christian who could teach him a lesson in the things of God. “I meet regularly once a week. 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.”

And, in making his own election sure, he felt the necessity of constant selfgovernment.

Self-denial was his habitual rule; and sometimes, in things perfectly allowable, he was induced to forego a lawful gratification, for the good of others. In one city where he was stationed, he found the use of wine carried to too great an extent in some of the circles he visited, and made a resolution to abstain, for the sake of giving a practical testimony against it; taking but two glasses of wine during the whole of the year, though in a wasted state of health, which would have rendered the moderate use of wine of great service to him.

The fear of God developed in his disposition an habitual reverence for things sacred. Thus, in passing an abbey or a ruined chapel, he has been observed to take off his hat, as a token of veneration. And this feeling was strongly unfolded in regard to the Holy Scriptures. He would often study them on his knees. The very sight of a Bible seemed to do him good. Once when a servant, wanting something to set against the door of the parlor to keep it open, seized the Bible and placed it on the ground, “Poor Margaret,” quoth the Doctor, “has no religion, or she would have paid more respect to the Book of God than to put it to that use.” He then took occasion to intimate that he could not endure the material of which the sacred book is composed to be desecrated in any way, and that even the page of a printed book which had upon it the Divine name was sacred in his eyes.

He had an overflowing sense of the goodness of God. Gratitude to the Parent of Good had become a glowing affection of his soul, which, like the altar’s trembling flame, was never suffered to expire. “I have enjoyed the spring of life; I have endured the toils of its summer; I have culled the fruits of its autumn: — I am now passing through the rigors of its winter: and I am neither forsaken of God, nor abandoned by man. I see at no great distance the dawn of a new day; the first of a spring that shall be eternal. It is advancing to meet me! I run to embrace it. Welcome, eternal spring!

Hallelujah!” This was written about two years before his death.

These gracious dispositions tuned his mind to benevolence toward all men, and especially those who were of the household of faith. Dr. Clarke was a genuine catholic [member of the Church Universal]. He could say, with Jerome, “I am a Christian and the son of a Christian, bearing on my forehead the token of the Cross;” faa7 and he reverenced and loved sincere piety wherever he found it, and under whatever conventional title. Names with him were next to nothing. Still, there was one branch of the church with which he was more intimately united, and through which he held communion with the others. He was a Methodist; and if he had been disposed to glory in any name, it would have been in that one. The Methodist people were his people, and their God his God. Among them he had been called, and among them he lived, and labored, and died. One month before his death he wrote the following testimonial. It has been printed before, but I insert it here without scruple, as it is evident, from the words of the preamble, he wished it to be permanent. “IN PERPETUAM EEL MEMORIAM I have lived more than threescore years and ten; I have traveled a good deal by sea and land; I have conversed with and seen many people, in and from many different countries; I have studied all the principal religious systems in the world; I have read much, thought much, and reasoned much. And the result is, I am persuaded of the simple, unadulterated truth of no book but the Bible; and of the excellence of no system of religion but that contained in the Holy Scriptures, and especially CHRISTIANITY, which is referred to in the Old Testament, and fully revealed in the New. And, while I think well of, and wish well to, all religious sects and parties, and especially to all who love the Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity, yet, from a long and thorough knowledge of the subject, I am led most conscientiously to conclude, that Christianity itself as existing among those called Wesleyan Methodists is the purest, the safest, and that which is most to the glory of God and the benefit of men; and that, both as to the c reed there professed, the form of discipline there established, and the consequent moral practice there vindicated. And I believe that among them is to be found the best form and body of divinity that has ever existed in the church of Christ from the promulgation of Christianity to the present day.

To him who would ask, ‘Dr. Clarke, are you not a bigot ? ‘ — without hesitation I would answer, ‘No, I am not; for, by the grace of God, I am a Methodist.’ Amen. - ADAM CLARKE.”

On another occasion: “For nearly fifty years I have lived only for the support and credit of Methodism: myself and my interests, the Searcher of hearts knows, were never objects of my attention. I came into the Connection with an upright heart, and one dominant principle; and, by the help of God, I will retain it to the end.”

He did so. Such were his feelings to the last. Speaking to some of the ministers not long before his departure, he said, “My heart is with you; and when my spirit has passed away, if God permit, it shall return and be a stirring spirit among you again!”

The last characteristic of Adam Clarke’s practical religion we can here commemorate is its perseverance. It was “by patient continuance in welldoing” that he sought for glory and immortality. He occupied till the Master came, and died wearing the harness. “The broad shadows and the setting sun” might have warranted his retirement from the field of toil; but he wrought on, the more solemnly in earnest for that the work was still pressing and the moments were few. Here is a memorandum noted down (April 9th) in the last year of his life: — “The Missionary Secretaries are in want of help for their coming anniversary, and have come in the most earnest and affectionate manner begging me to help them. I have at once submitted, though it is likely to throw work upon me which I shall scarcely be able to bear. I had been previously engaged to Birmingham and Sheffield. I must be in Birmingham on the 22nd and 23rd, — return to London for Queen-street on the 27th, and Southwark on the 29th, — then set off for Sheffield, where I must be May 5th and 6th, — and get, if I can, to Belfast or Donaghadee on the 12th. I am in an indifferent state of health; and there is too much reason to believe that all this traveling and preaching, coming so close together, will overset me.”

In some of these services he came out in almost unparalleled grandeur.”Who,” said the poet Montgomery, referring to those at Sheffield, “who among us does not remember, nay, which of us can forget, his two discourses? — the simple energy with which they were poured forth, the unction of the Holy One which accompanied them, and the devout feeling so interfused as to overpower the sense of admiration which the learning, the love, the transcendent ability displayed in the composition were calculated to excite.”

On the Doctor’s arrival home from Ireland, his family were shocked by the alteration in his appearance. He confessed that his strength was prostrated, but seemed most concerned lest he should be disabled from further work.

One of his daughters having come over to Haydon Hall to see her father upon his return, he said, “See, Mary, how the strong man has bowed himself; for strong he was. But it is God who has brought down, and He can raise up. He still owns the word I preach; He still continues my influence among the people; and hence it is plain He has yet other work for me to do.”

In July, at the Liverpool Conference, his name was inserted as supernumerary under the heading of the Windsor Circuit, being that in which Haydon Hall is situated; faa4 but along with this notification was added the following N.B: — “Though Dr. Clarke is set down supernumerary for Windsor, he is not bound to that Circuit, but is most respectfully and affectionately requested to visit all parts of our Connection, and labor according to his strength and convenience.”

With this “roving commission,” as he called it, he prepared himself to concur; engagements as usual beginning to crowd upon him with the new Methodistic year. But He whom he had so faithfully served, and longed still to serve, was about to say, “It is enough.”

The year 1832 was one of the seasons of the Asiatic cholera in England.

That inscrutable pestilence had swept away a multitude of people; and among the places which Dr. Clarke had been called to visit while the malady was at its height, Liverpool was one. The subsequent event proved that he returned to his home smitten with its influence. Yet, under these circumstances, he went forth to acquit himself of what he considered to be the obligation of duty, though with the seal of death upon his brow.

His first effort was at Frome, where he visited his worthy son, then curate of that parish; who had solicited the Doctor’s presence at a meeting to promote an excellent institution which he had organized for the bodily and spiritual relief of the poor. Writing to Mrs. Clarke on his arrival at Frome, he says, “The constant traveling and labor, confinement in the Conference, &c., greatly fatigued me; and almost every day I am expecting to be (completely done in). *[See Transcriber Note] Never was my mind more vigorous, and never my body so near sinking.” The plans of his son “for the amelioration of the condition of the poor” had excited great attention in Frome; and at the meetings some persons of great eminence in the neighborhood took a part on the platform, among whom were the bishop of the diocese, the earl of Cork, and the marquis of Bath. The speech delivered by the Doctor made a great impression. The founder of the Strangers’ Friend Society, and the preacher of mercy for fifty years, was at home on t he theme of the day; and all felt that a man of no ordinary presence was among them. One expression only we can note, as showing the instinct of eternity which was growing stronger in him daily. Referring to the pleasing circumstance that the present charity combined all ranks of society in the neighborhood as it supporters, and to the presence of the bishop, the peers, the members of Parliament, clergy, and gentry, as “a grateful sight,” he added, — “Thus also it is even with the economy of heaven; since concerning it we hear of thrones, and dominions, and principalities, and powers; for orderly government seems to be well pleasing to God. What other degrees may be required to constitute the harmony of the celestial hierarchy, I know not but I shall soon be there, and then I shall know the whole!”

From Frome, after a little sojourn at Weston-super-Mare, he went to Bristol, and preached on the 19th at Westbury, near that city. From Bath and Pinner, we find him corresponding by letter with two ladies, Mrs.

Tomkins and Miss Birch, on some calamities which had befallen the Zetlanders, for whom they had shown much generosity, and whom he again commends to their compassion. He left Bath for London on the 20th of August and the next clay, after visiting and giving his blessing to his daughters in town, be reached his home at seven in the evening. And here it will be better to recite what followed, not in my own, but in the words of his daughter; for they have a sacredness which should not be intermeddled with. She tells us, that after her father’s return home, “in the morning and evening family-worship, it was remarked that he invariably prayed in reference to the cholera, by name, ‘ that each and all might be saved from its influence, or be prepared for sudden death; ‘ and, as regarded the nation at large , ‘ that it would please Almighty God to turn the hearts of the people to Himself, and cut short His judgment in mercy.

On Saturday, August 25th, he summoned the family as usual, and it was observed he commenced his prayer with these words ‘We thank Thee, O Heavenly Father, that we have a blessed hope through Christ of entering into Thy glory.’ On rising from his knees, he remarked to Mrs. Clarke, ‘ I think, my dear, it will not be my duty to kneel down much longer, as it is with pain and difficulty I can rise up from my knees.’ “Being engaged to preach at Bayswater on the Sabbath morning, a friend had promised to come for him in his chaise, which he accordingly did. Previously to their setting off, he called a servant, and gave her a piece of silver, saying, ‘Take that to poor Mrs. Fox, with my love and blessing. Perhaps it is the last I shall ever give her.’ He took a little refreshment, and, ascending the chaise, drove out of the gate-for ever. “On the way to Bayswater his conversation was cheerful: but on arriving he appeared fatigued; and, as the evening advanced, he was unusually languid. Several friends called upon him; and on the Rev.

Thomas Stanley requesting him to fix a time for preaching a charity-sermon, Dr. Clarke replied, I am not well: I cannot fix a time; I must first see what God is about to do with me.’ “At supper he was languid and silent; and, in the hope of gaining upon his appetite, his kind and considerate friend Mrs. Hobbs had got for him some fish, to which he was always partial; but he could not eat of it, and took a little boiled rice instead. “Ever since Dr. Clarke’s return from Bristol he had been affected with some degree of diarrhea; but now, contrary to custom, it was not attended with the slightest pain. On being pressed to take something for it, he took ginger and rhubarb, but refused every other recommendation “The diarrhea increased all night. On the Sabbath morning he was heard to be up very early, but this was no unusual thing. At six o’clock, however, he requested the servant to call Mr. Hobbs, who obeyed the summons with all speed, and on coming down saw Dr. Clarke standing with his great-coat on, his traveling-bag in his hand, his hat lying on the table just ready for a journey. Addressing Mr.

Hobbs, he said, ‘My dear fellow, you must get me home directly: without a miracle I could not preach. Get me home — I want to be home.’ Mr. Hobbs, seeing him look exceedingly ill, replied, ‘Doctor, you are too ill to go home; you had better stay here. At any rate, the gig is not fit for you: I will go and inquire for a postchaise, if you are determined to return.’

Shortly after Mrs. Hobbs come down, with Miss Hobbs and Miss Everingham, the servant having informed these ladies of Dr. Clarke’s indisposition. “By this time he had sunk into a chair; and, finding him very cold, they had got a fire, and the three ladies were rubbing his forehead and hands, while Mr. Hobbs sent with the gig for a medical gentleman, — Mr. Greenly, a friend of the family, who chanced to have come to town on the preceding evening from Chatham, where he had professionally attended the cholera-hospital. In the meantime Mr. Hobbs had called in a medical man in the neighborhood, and sent off to inform his sons of their father’s illness. Mr. Theodoret arrived shortly, and Mr. John not long after, accompanied by the Doctor’s nephew, Mr. Thrascyles Clarke, who had been for many years a surgeon in the Royal Navy, and had frequently seen cases of cholera in the East.

As soon as the medical gentlemen saw Dr. Clarke, they pronounced the disease to be cholera. The family wished him to be taken up-stairs; but he was by this time so weak, that it was found he could not get up. A small bed being in the adjoining room, he was conveyed there, and laid down upon it. Mr. Hobbs then said, ‘ My dear Doctor, you must put your soul into the hands of your God, and your trust in the merits of your Saviour.’

To which Dr. Clarke could only faintly reply, ‘I do, — I DO.’ “Dr. Wilson Philip arrived about nine o’clock. All the means that skill, experience, and attention could devise and employ were used to arrest the disease.

Service-time having arrived, the chapel, as usual on such occasions, was filled. An aged minister, after reading prayers, ascended the pulpit, and announced that Dr. Clarke was laboring under an attack of cholera. The impression may be better imagined than described.

A friend of Dr. Clarke’s, Mr. Thurston, on hearing this, immediately left the chapel, and hastened to the house of Mr. Hobbs, to learn if indeed it could be true, and if, in the dismay and hurry of the family, Mrs. Clarke had been sent for. He immediately drove off to Haydon Hall to bring Mrs.

Clarke, who arrived a little before four in the afternoon. On her entering the room, Dr. Clarke feebly extended his hand toward her. One of the Doctor’s daughters, Mrs. Hook, on hearing that her father was indisposed, though she knew not the extent of the calamity, had set off for Bayswater; and her father opened his eyes feebly, and strove to clasp his fingers upon her hand. But he had not attempted to speak but twice; once in the morning, when he asked his son Theodoret, ‘Am I blue?’ and again at noon, on seeing him move from his bed-side, he asked, with apparent anxiety, ‘Are you going?’

Dr. W. Philip again visited him in the afternoon; but Mr. Thrasycles Clarke and Mr. Greenly never left his room, nor relaxed in their efforts to save a life they saw to be fast hastening away. The female members in this kind family forgot all personal risk in attending upon the affliction of one who had to them been so often the minister of peace. His two sons chafed his cold hands and feet frequently in the day, and often stepped behind his head to lift him higher on the pillow. Hope did not abandon them; nor could Mrs. Clarke be brought to believe that death had made a sure lodgment, and that life was fast sinking under his power. “From the first, Dr. Clarke appeared to suffer but little pain. The sickness did not last long, and a slight degree of spasm which succeeded it had all passed away before eleven o’clock in the forenoon. But there was a total prostration of strength, and difficulty of breathing; which, as night advanced, increased so much, and proved so distressing to Mrs. Clarke, that she was obliged to be removed into the adjoining room. “A few minutes after eleven Mr. Hobbs came into the room where she was sitting, and in deep distress said, ‘I am sure, Mrs. Clarke, the Doctor is dying.’ She passed with him once snore into the sickchamber, and said, ‘Surely, Mr. Hobbs, you are mistaken; Dr. Clarke breathes easier than he did just now;’ to which Mr. Hobbs in strong emotion replied, ‘Yes; but shorter.’ “At this moment Dr. Clarke heaved a short sob, and his spirit went forth from earth to heaven.”

Deep and solemn was the feeling which the announcement of the death of Dr. Adam Clarke produced in London, and throughout the land. The Methodist communion felt that they had suffered few such losses since the day when their founder himself was removed to his eternal rest. And not only the body to which he more intimately belonged, but good men of every name, deplored his departure with a sincere and religious lamentation, as if bereaved of a personal counselor, companion, and friend.

The tribute which was written by Fresenius when the illustrious John Albert Bengel died, might with the greatest propriety have been employed to express the sentiments of multitudes in every church when the grave received this venerable divine to its dark repose “A pillar falls; a light expires a star, which shone so brightly in the visible heaven of the church, stops its course, withdraws, and mingles with the supernal glory of the spirits made perfect. “An angel of peace, who was as pious as he was laborious, as childlike as he was learned, as rich in spirit as he was acute in mind, as humble as he was great, as modest as he was circumspect in his walk and business of life.

A friend of God expires, whom the Eternal Wisdom led into her chambers; to whom were opened the outgoings of that light which enlightens human minds, the powers of that word which quickens souls, the treasures of that grace which allures, lends, and saves us. “A great spirit leaves the earth; who, whether he measured the heights, or sounded the depths, showed himself equally able. The most sacred of all books was his invaluable treasure. He numbered and proved even words and points. He ventured into the obscure depths of theology; and posterity will be able to judge to what extent he found footing. What to others seemed dry, to him was verdure: what appeared despised by the many, was to him the source of light and power, spirit and life. “He was eyes to the blind, a leader to the weak, a pattern to the strong, a luminary to the learned, an ornament to the church. “A treasury is closed, in which the Lord of all the treasures of grace had laid up wondrous wealth of knowledge and wisdom. A teacher, mighty in the Scriptures, is no more. Sigh, children; your fathers fall asleep.”

Return, O Lord, and let Thy work appear unto Thy servants, and Thy glory unto their children!

May we who are still alive, and remain unto this day, seek the footsteps of our blessed predecessors, and be followers of them who now inherit the promises And let the rising youth of the church set before them the great example of these men of God. Let them study their writings, enter into their views, aspire to the attainment of the end for which they lived, from motives noble as their own, and pray to be baptized with a double portion of their spirit. The work the world needs is not yet done: it demands a host of men strong, resolute, and faithful as Adam Clarke. We are verging upon times which will task the loftiest energies of martyrs, and heroes, and apostles.

Both Providence and prophecy are alike sounding their trumpet-call to the candidates for this great career of toil and triumph. Immeasurable rewards open to the view of the faithful, and the crown of glory shines in the hand of the Judge: but the victory can only be won by the brave, and the race run by the swift.

CHAPTER 8

SUPPLEMENT OF ILLUSTRATIVE PASSAGES FROM DR. CLARKE’S CORRESPONDENCE

The passages, seven in number, marked with the asterisk, have been already printed: the rest I believe, are now for the first time given to the light.

DATE OF DR. CLARKE’S BIRTH — FAMILY DESCENT

Dublin, 1825. — I am at Mr. Adam Boyd’s His brother John was my godfather I have got from Adam the following information: “My brother John was sent from Dublin to Castle-Dawson to do some important work.

He returned the next year, 1761. In the interim he stood godfather for you.

You were, therefore, born in 1760 or 1761.” This is certainly bringing the question into a narrow compass. Tell John that he proves positively that his aunt, my grandmother Clarke, was an immediate descendant of the earls of Kilmaronock, whose family-name was Boyd. His own grandfather was always called Kilmaronock, as standing close to the earldom.

RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE