‘18th Century’ Category

A couple of days ago I mentioned my discovery of an hitherto unknown sermon by Abraham Booth–at least unknown to me. Here are a few quotes from the sermon, which is based on 2 Cor 4:2, in which Booth deals with the manner and aim of preaching:

“When I contemplate the Apostle Paul, as the most honoured and useful servant of the Lord Jesus, in spreading the glories of divine grace, I can hardly forbear wishing, like Augustin, to have beheld him in the pulpit; if, thereby, I might form a more correct idea of his doctrine and manner of preaching. Yet such a wish is quite unavailing; and indeed, the gratification of it quite unnecessary. For that incomparable man, in his several epistles, has drawn his own character both as a Christian and as a minister of Christ. In the words of our text, we have the representation of Paul in the pulpit. His grand business is, to manifest the truth.”

“Take care, that under pretence of being open and explicit, you do not degenerate into dogmatism, or become personal in your, addresses. In the pulpit, you have to do rather with characters than with persons. You are bound, in faithfulness and in duty, to declare, that drunkards, covetous, self-righteous men, shall not inherit the kingdom of God: but you must not single out any particular person before you; for you will then become ungenerous, and the consequences will be injurious.”

“The more you keep the approbation of conscience, and the favour of God, in your eye, the more careful will you be to study your text and to manifest the truth which it contains; that the understanding and the conscience of your hearers may be duly enlightened, feel its authority, and God himself approve your labours. My brother, you have first of all to do with the understanding of your hearers, and as there is a glorious harmony and influence in divine truth, it must certainly operate on the will.

“If you preach the whole counsel of God faithfully, you must expect to be treated by some as an Arminian—if you assert the unchangeableness of salvation for those who, though undeserving, yet believe in Christ, you must expect to be reproached by others as an Antinomian.”

Working yesterday on a title for the forthcoming book by Dr. Raymond A. Coppenger, the father of Dr. Mark Coppenger, on Abraham Booth—it will be entitled “A messenger of grace”: A study of the life and thought of Abraham Booth (1734–1806) (Joshua Press, 2009)—I found a hitherto unknown sermon by Booth, an ordination sermon for Dr. John Stanford, who eventually came to the United States. It is a meditation on 2 Corinthians 4:2, and quintessential Booth. He argues that Paul, as one who sought to make known the truth, is a pattern for imitation. There is hope that this new sermon will be included in a future volume of the collected works of Booth, currently being published by Particular Baptist Press—see The Works of Abraham Booth, Volume I. (Springfield, Missouri: Particular Baptist Press, 2006).

In the course of this discovery I also came across a remark Booth makes vis-à-vis a quote from his favourite author, John Owen (1616-1683). Booth is speaking about his dislike of the use of the title “Reverend,” a disapprobation common to Baptists of his day, and he quotes Owen quoting Martin Luther (1483-1546): Nunquam periclitatur religio nisi inter Reverendissimos (“Religion is never in any danger except among the most Reverend gentlemen”!). Of course, dangers have arisen from other quarters, but how often in the history of the church has it been ordained ministers who have sought to destroy the very faith they were commissioned to protect. May God enable all who have pledged themselves to be servants of the Word to be faithful to that trust.

Why do we plead for the retention—yea, more, the prizing—of the hymnal heritage of the past? Why simply because some of these old hymns say things so powerfully that their disappearance from ecclesial memory would be such a great loss.

In this light, consider this hymn from the pen of Anne Steele (1717-1778). It has her characteristic “watermark”—Christian profundity yoked to introspection and hesitancy—and a powerful conclusion that moves the modern heart as deeply as any subjectivity of the eighteenth century.

Dear Lord, what heavenly wonders dwell
In thy atoning blood!
By this are sinners snatch’d from hell,
And rebels brought to God.

Jesus, my soul, adoring bends
To love so full, so free;
And may I hope that love extends
Its sacred power to me?

What glad return can I impart,
For favours so divine?
O take my all, this worthless heart,
And make it only thine.

A quick check has revealed that Maria Hope (1789-1866) was associated with Byrom Street Chapel in Liverpool and among a number of her nephews, there were two called Samuel Pearce Hope and William Carey Hope.

She was only 26 when Fuller wrote to her. She must have met Fuller on a trip he took to Liverpool, probably on one of his fund-raising trips for the BMS that kept him away from home for up to a quarter of the year.

In January 1815, only a few months before the death of Andrew Fuller—when Britain was gearing up for its decisive showdown with the French dictator Napoleon—the Baptist leader decided to answer an enquiry about his life, his early religious impressions and conversion, from “a friend in Liverpool.” That was the very way that I described his correspondent in my The Armies of the Lamb: The spirituality of Andrew Fuller (Joshua Press, 2001), p.75. I had no more information, though, about the person in question.

Imagine my delight and amazement when this afternoon—through the help of my good friend Dr Grant Gordon—I was able to identify this correspondent as “Miss Maria Hope” of “Hope Street, Liverpool.” Grant alerted me to a letter of Fuller’s best friend John Ryland Jr., in which Ryland talks about his writing of his friend’s memoir after Fuller’s death. The letter is written to Maria and Ryland talks about the letters that Fuller had written to her.

Wowsers! What a find! I must say: it was incredible to read the letter.

One of my monthly delights is to receive the monthly newsletter of The John Newton Project (www.johnnewton.org) edited by Marylynn Rouse. In the latest she has this quote, it could be describing our day to a tee:

John Newton in a letter to William Wilberforce on March 19, 1795 noted: “My heart is pained by the prevalence of sin and misery, and the evidences of God’s displeasure, against a nation that has long enjoyed and long abused, more light, liberty and prosperity, than was ever vouchsafed to any people upon the face of the earth. And even now that his hand is so awfully lifted up, they will not see. Stupid security, and dissipation prevail everywhere.”

120 years ago, roughly 75% of people in Ontario sat under an evangelical ministry. What is it today? 7%? Are we not in the same situation of the inhabitants of 18th century England?

Not everyone in Fuller’s day regarded Andrew Fuller with a favourable eye. There were, of course, theological opponents like John Martin of London. And then there were writers like David Rivers who, in his Literary Memoirs of Living Authors of Great Britain (London: R. Faulder, 1798), I, 201-202, described Fuller as “the author of several Religious Tracts written with all the Vulgarity of a Methodist Teacher. He has written a controversial pamphlet against Socinianism, which displays a very small share, if any, of education or talent.” This blogger begs to differ and sees many of Fuller’s works as sheer brilliance.

A newly transcribed and published excerpt from John Newton’s diary provides a understanding of his view on the ministry. Dr. Haykin has reviewed the booklet, Ministry on my mind: John Newton on entering pastoral ministry by John Newton, transcribed by Marylynn Rouse. Dr. Haykin believes that this work deserves to go on the short list of books which every man aspiring to pastoral ministry needs to read. Read the review here. Other reviews are available here. Check back regularly as new reviews are usually added on a weekly basis.

Posted by Steve Weaver, Research and Administrative Assistant to the Director of the Andrew Fuller Center for Baptist Studies, Dr. Michael A.G. Haykin.

Last fall while speaking at Hespeler Baptist Church on the Puritans a friend gave me a page she had found in the catalogue of a British firm that shipped various British foods overseas. This particular page advertised Christmas pudding.

Part of the ad ran thus: “Christmas pudding should be so wickedly good it makes you feel like repenting. That’s the effect it had on the Puritans, who, back in Britain in 1664, banned the rich dessert as a lewd tradition. Thankfully, King George gave in to temptation and removed the ban in 1714.”

Pasing by the incredible statement of the first line, it seems as if this ad derived its historical data from this webpage of BBC2: “Traditional Christmas Pudding” (http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A660836), where we are further informed that the Puritans’ argument against the pudding was that “mainly due to its rich ingredients” they deemed it “unfit for God-fearing people.” When George reintroduced it, according to this web page, the Quakers objected, calling it “the invention of the scarlet whore of Babylon.” Doing a quick check, it appears that a number of places on the Web have similar information and the same dates.

There are some obvious problems here. First, the Puritans, if we mean the English Puritans, had no power to be banning anything in 1664 since the Restoration in 1660 had led to their complete removal from the halls of power. Then, the Quakers are not to be confused with the Puritans. King George of the ad is presumably George I (r.1714-1727). George, who spoke virtually not a word of English—he was a Hanoverian from Germany—became king in August of 1714. And it was that December he reinstated the Christmas pudding.

Well, someone who loves the Puritans needs to research this and find out the truth. This would make a very good term paper!

I was in a Barnes and Noble tonight and dipped into a book by Rebecca St. James—Sister freaks: Stories of Women who gave up everything for God (New York: Warner Faith, 2005). I didn’t get beyond the first page, where I read this quote from Watchman Nee: “Everywhere Jesus went, there was revolution. Everywhere I go, they serve tea” (p.xi). She didn’t footnote it, so I am not sure where she got this from. But two thoughts immediately came to mind. First, what a way to express the difference between us and our Lord: even as committed a disciple as Watchman Nee (though I would dissent from some of his views about discipleship) knew well the difference. The presence of Jesus was true revolution, beside which the French and Russian Revolutions, American and Industrial Revolutions, and all of the political hype of the last few weeks, pale into insignificance.

Second, I thought of a remark I read this week in the Miscellaneous Works of Rev. Charles Buck (New Haven: Whitmore and Minor, 1833), which I found in the library of Knox Theological Seminary, Fort Lauderdale. I had never heard of Buck (1771-1815), who was a Congregationalist minister and who once served as the amanuensis of John Ryland, Sr (p.16-17). When I read about Buck’s connection with Ryland I was hooked and went through the entire book. Among other things, Buck published two collections of anecdotes. One of these books contained the following story—and tea is the link with the Watchman Nee quote.

According to the London Anglican evangelical William Romaine (1714-1795), the “glory of God is very seldom promoted at the tea-table” (p.486). Watchman Nee would definitely have agreed! But not so, Romaine averred, when one drank tea with fellow-Anglican James Hervey (1714-1758), who was also a close friend of both John Wesley and John Ryland. “Drinking tea with him,” Romaine observed, “was like being at an ordinance; for it was sanctified by the word of God and prayer” (p.486).

So drinking tea could be revolutionary!