Bor. May 14. Dear and Honoured Brother; 264, d. 1694. I should have answered your last sooner, but wanted opportunity of sending it. I rejoice in the continuance of your mercies, that your bow doth yet abide in strength, and that my dear sister also is spared to you in her usefulness. The Lord's most holy name be blessed and praised for it! It seems you have your mixtures for exercise. God will have you yet to shine brighter; the dish-clouts that he makes use of, must help to do it; their's the shame, your's the honour. Qui volens detrahit famæ tuæ, nolens volens addit mercedi tuæ.* It is a sign we gallop in our way, † when the dogs follow us barking. Slack not your pace, though they do so. There will as certainly be a resurrection of names, as of bodies, and both with advantage. Both as the sun at noon day. I know not when I shall be so happy as to see you at Salop, though I much desire it. I am like a traveller's horse that knows its stages, which, if he exceed, he tires, and is the worse for it. Hither, once a quarter, is my non plus ultra. I have not been at Chester, though I have many loadstones there, above these thirteen months. Once a week, and sometimes twice, I keep my circuit of two miles, or four miles, each Wednesday, by which time I am recovered from my sabbath weariness; and, by the time I am recovered from that, the sabbath work returns again; so that I am never not weary. But why do I tell you this?-That I may boast what a labourer I am? I am a loiterer, a trifler, a slug. Magnis conatibus nihil ago. It is that you may know wherein to help me with your prayers. Beg for me, that I may be found faithful, and that, while I preach to others, I myself may not be a cast-away. I have some hope, through grace, that I shall not; but the heart is deceitful, the devil is busy, and God is just and holy. Only this I trust to,Christ hath died, yea, rather, is risen again. Dear love, and service to you both. The Lord himself be your everlasting portion. Amen. This, from For Mr. Francis Tallents, Your affectionate obliged Brother, At Salop, Augustine with mea altered to tuæ. Mr. William Fenner, of Essex, that eminent servant of Jesus Christ, was so taken with the active spirit of Mr. Wilson, that he said, "I am even ashamed of myself to see how Mr. Wilson gallopeth towards heaven, and I do but creep on at a snail's pace." Clarke's Lives, p. 34, fol. 1683. "There shall be a resurrection, not only of bodies, but of credits." The Bruised Reed and Smoaking Flax, by Dr. Sibbs, p. 113, duod. 1808. 9th ed. § Orig. MS. Dear Cousin and Brother; Aug. 13, 355 d. 1694. I came from home on Saturday, not without some hopeful thoughts of seeing you two, and dear Mr. Bryan,* in his present illness, this day; but the weather and ways are grown suddenly such, that, really, Sir, I dare not venture, for my strength will not bear it; and I dare not tempt God. I am therefore hastening back to my nest, where the young ones are at present such, and so many, that the poor hen, though she can do as much as another, yet, alone, cannot manage them without me. If we do any good, it is well; the Lord accept of it in Christ; but, I am sure, it is not without a great deal of care and cumber to ourselves in our deelining age. It was a special providence to gratify dear Cos. Benyon, that at first brought us into it; and I wait upon the same providence, in what way the Lord pleases, for there are many ways, to let us fairly out again, that we may not break prison. I pray this, once more, accept of this true excuse; and give my dear love and respects to good Mr. Bryan, and tell him, my heart is with him, and my daily prayers are to God for him. If there be more work to be done, well; he shall recover to do it; if not, better, (for him better, whatever for others,) there is a rest remaining. We serve a good Master. Dearest love to you both. The Eternal God be your refuge; and underneath you be his everlasting arms, living, dying. Amen! For the worthy Mr. Tallents, At Salop. These.+] The Rev. John Bryan, M. A. He was Minister of St. Chad's Church, in Shrewsbury, till Aug. 24, 1662. He died Aug. 31, 1699. "1699, Sept. 2. I heard of the death of good Mr. Bryan, of Salop: an aged nonconformist, and a bold, zealous preacher of the truth; gone to receive his Well done." Mrs. Savage's Diary. Orig. MS. A portrait, in oil, of Mr. Bryan, is in the editor's possession. See Palmer's Noncon. Mem. v. 3, p. 151. + P. Henry. Orig. MS. CHAPTER IX. His Sickness, Death, and Burial. IN the time of his health, he made death very familiar to himself, by frequent and pleasing thoughts and meditations of it; and endeavoured to make it so to his friends, by speaking often of it. His letters and discourses had still something or other which spoke his constant expectations of death. Thus did he learn to die daily. And it is hard to say, whether it was more easy to him to speak, or uneasy to his friends to hear him speak of leaving the world. This minds me of a passage I was told by a worthy Scotch minister, Mr. Patrick Adair, that, visiting the famous Mr. Durham,* of Glasgow, in his last sickness, which was long and lingering, he said to him, Sir, I hope you have so set all in order, that you have nothing else to do but to die. "I bless God," said Mr. Durham, "I have not had that to do neither these many years." Such is the comfort of dying daily, when we come to die indeed. [Mr. Henry, some time before his last illness, had a severe attack of disease, which greatly excited the alarm of his friends. His excellent wife was then on a visit to Mrs. Savage, at Wrenbury Wood. How his own mind was affected by the apparent approach of the last enemy will be seen by the following letter: Dear Daughter;' This is to you because of your's to me. I am glad to see you so well so quickly, as to be able to write, that your your right hand hath not forgot its cunning; neither hath mine yet. I had an ill day yesterday, and an ill night after, but ease came in the morning. I have been preaching Christ, the door to God, and letting a little one into him by the door of baptism, and hope for strength for the afternoon work, though in some pain, yet less than deserved. Your mother hath sometimes told me, she could not endure to see me He died 25th June, 1658, æt. 36. Biographia Scoticana, p. 205, 1796. + When Dr. Gouge was visited by his friends in his sickness, he often said, "I am willing to die; having, I bless God, nothing to do but to die." Clarke's Lives annexed to the Martyrologie, p. 246, ut supra. die, and for that reason I was glad she was away, for I thought, all night, there was but a step. Here are many people, and they are come to hear of Christ; and willing, I am, they should, and that they should learn what I have learned of him. I can cheerfully say,-Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace!* God increase your strength, and especially your thankfulness, and write the name of the child in the book of the living. My dear love to my wife, and to yourself and husband, and all the rest. I am glad that she is acceptable to you, and am willing she should be so, while she and you please. The Lord everlasting be your portion! + For Mrs. Sarah Savage, At Wrenbury Wood.] Mr. Henry's constitution was but tender, and yet, by the blessing of God upon his great temperance, and care of his diet, and moderate exercise by walking in the air, he did for many years enjoy a good measure of health, which he used to call,--The sugar that sweetens all temporal mercies; for which, therefore, we ought to be very thankful, and of which we ought to be very careful. He had sometimes violent fits of the colick, which would be very afflictive for the time. Towards his latter end he was distressed sometimes with a pain, which his doctor thought might arise from a stone in his kidneys. Being once upon the recovery from an ill fit of that pain, he said to one of his friends, that asked him how he did, he hoped, by the grace of God, he should now be able to give one blow more to the devil's kingdom; and often professed, he did not desire to live a day longer than he might do God some service. He said to another, when he perceived himself recovering, Well, I thought I had been putting into the harbour, but I find I must to sea again. § He was sometimes suddenly taken with fainting fits, which, when he recovered from, he would say,-Dying is but a little more. 1669, Nov. 17. Ill of the cold, which provoked other distempers, insomuch, that, for a time, I despaired even of life. Apt to faint; and what is death, but a very little more? Lord, I bless thee, that I can look death in the face with comfort, knowing that my redemption draweth nigh. P. Henry. Diary. Orig. MS. + P. Henry. Orig. MS. He was, all his days, a pattern of temperance in eating and drinking, above any that I have known as to time, quantity, and quality. Life. Orig. MS. ut supra. He never took tobacco. If asked concerning it, he would say, he was not come to it yet; but he did not know what he might do; having known some who had vigorously resolved against it, but afterwards were persuaded to it. Ibid. It is said of the learned Dr. Barrow, that he was very free in the use of tobacco, believing it did help to regulate his thinking. Life, prefixed to his Works, vol. 2, fol. 1683. § Sir Henry Wotton, being visited in his latter days by his learned friend, the celebrated Mr. Hales, of Eton, said to him,-"I now see that I draw near my harbour of death; that harbour that will secure me from all the future storms and waves of this restless world; and, I praise God, I am willing to leave it, and expect a better." Walton's Lives, by Dr. Zouch, v. 1, p. 284. See, also, Clarke's Lives annexed to the Martyrologie, ut supra, p. 171. When he was in the sixty-third year of his age, which is commonly called the grand climacterick, and hath been to many the dying year, and was so to his father, he numbered the days of it, from August 24, 1693, to August 24, 1694, when he finished it. And when he concluded it, he thus wrote in his Diary;-This day finisheth my commonly dying year, which I have numbered the days of; and should now apply my heart, more than ever, to heavenly wisdom. He was much pleased with that expression of our English Liturgy in the office of burial, and frequently used it;—“In the midst of life we are in death." The infirmities of age, when they grew upon him, did very little abate his vigour and liveliness in preaching, but he seemed even to renew his youth as the eagles; as those that are planted in the house of the Lord, who still bring forth fruit in old age; not so much to show that they are upright, as to show that the Lord is upright. Psalm, xcii. 14, 15. But, in his latter years, travelling was very troublesome to him; and he would say, as Mr. Dod used to do, that, when he thought to shake himself as at other times, he found his hair was cut;* his sense of this led him to preach an occasional sermon not long before he died, on John, xxi. 18;— When thou wast young, thou girdest thyself, &c. Another occasional sermon he preached when he was old,+ for his own comfort, and the comfort of his aged friends, on Psalm, lxxi. 17, 18;—0 God, thou hast taught me from my youth, &c. He observed there, -That it is a blessed thing to be taught of God from our youth; and those that have been taught of God from their youth, ought to declare his wondrous works all their days after. And those that have been taught of God from their youth, and have all their days declared his wondrous works, may comfortably expect, that when they are old he will not forsake them. Christ is a Master that doth not use to cast off his old servants.+ [On another occasion, he writes;-It was David's prayer;-0 God, thou hast taught me from my youth, and hitherto have I declared all thy wondrous works. Now, also, when I am old and grey-headed, O God, forsake me not! And we should thus pray. For, when God forsakes, it is like as when the soul forsakes the body. There is nothing left but a carcase. It is as when the sun forsakes the earth, which causes night and winter. It is as when the fountain forsakes the cistern, for God alone is the Fountain. It is as when the father forsakes the children. It is as when the pilot forsakes the ship, then she is in great danger of rocks and quicksands. It is as when the physician forsakes the patient, which See Judges, xvi. 19, 20; and the Account of the Rev. John Dod, in Fuller's Church History, ut supra, B. xi. p. 220. + April 28, 1692. Appendix, No. XXIV. |