Baptist History Homepage

Memoirs of the Rev. Samuel Pearce
By Andrew Fuller

To the Family and Friends of Mr. Pearce

These Memoirs,
Compiled with their Approbation and From a Tender Regard to his Memory,
Are Affectionately and Respectfully Inscribed by the Compiler.

Introduction

It was observed by this excellent man, during his affliction, that he never till then gained any personal instruction from our Lord's telling Peter by what death he should glorify God. To die by a consumption had used to be an object of dread to him; but, "O my dear Lord," said he, "if by this death I can most glorify thee, I prefer it to all others." The lingering death of the cross, by which our Saviour himself expired, afforded him an opportunity of uttering some of the most affecting sentences which are left on sacred record; and to the lingering death of this his honoured servant we are indebted for a considerable part of the materials which appear in these memoirs. Had he been taken away suddenly, there had been no opportunity for him to have expressed his sentiments and feelings in the manner he has now done in letters to his friends. While in health, his hands were full of labour, and consequently his letters were written mostly upon the spur of occasion; and related principally to business, or to things which would be less interesting to Christians in general. It is true, even in them it was his manner to drop a few sentiments, towards the close, of an experimental kind; and many of these hints will be interspersed in this brief account of him; but it was during his affliction, when being laid aside nearly a year, and obliged to desist from all public concerns, that be gave scope to all the feelings of his heart. Here, standing as on an eminence, he reviewed his life, re-examined the ground of his hope, and anticipated the crown which awaited him, with a joy truly unspeakable and full of glory.

Like Elijah, he has left the "chariot of Israel," and ascended as in a "chariot of fire;" but not without having first communicated of his eminently Christian spirit. Oh that a double portion of it may rest upon us!

Chapter I

His Parentage, Conversion, Call to the Ministry, and Settlement at Birmington

[p. 369]

Mr. Samuel Pearce was born at Plymouth, on July 20th, 1766. His father, who survives him, is a respectable silversmith, and has been many years a deacon of the Baptist church in that place.

When a child, he lived with his grandfather, who was very fond of him, and endeavoured to impress his mind with the principles of religion. At about eight or nine years of age he came home to his father with a view of learning his business. As he advanced in life, his evil propensities, as he has said, began to ripen; and forming connexions with several vicious schoolfellows, he became more and more corrupted. So greatly was his heart at this time set in him to do evil, that had it not been for the restraining goodness of God, which somehow, he knew not how, preserved him in most instances from carrying his wicked inclinations into practice, he supposed he should have been utterly ruined.

At times he was under strong convictions, which rendered him miserable; but at other times they subsided, and then he would return with eagerness to his sinful pursuits. When about fifteen years old he was sent by his father to inquire after the welfare of a person in the neighbourhood, in dying circumstances, who (though before his departure he was in a happy state of mind) at that time was sinking into deep despair. While in the room of the dying man, he heard him cry out with inexpressible agony of spirit, "I am damned for ever!" These awful words pierced his soul; and he felt a resolution at the time to serve the Lord; but the impression soon wore off, and he again returned to folly.

When about sixteen years of age, it pleased God effectually to turn him to himself. A sermon delivered by Mr. Birt, who was then co-pastor with Mr. Gibbs of the Baptist church at Plymouth, was the first means of impressing his heart with a sense of his lost condition, and of directing him to the gospel remedy. The change in him appears to have been sudden, but effectual; and though his vicious propensities were bitter to his recollection, yet, being now sensibly subdued, he was furnished with so much the clearer evidence that the work was of God. "I believe," he says, "few conversions were more joyful. The change produced in my views, feelings, and conduct was so evident to myself, that I could no more doubt of its being from God than of my existence. I had the witness in myself, and was filled with peace and joy unspeakable."

His feelings being naturally strong, and receiving a new direction, he entered into religion with all his heart; but not having known the devices of Satan, his soul was injured by its own ardour, and he was thrown into great perplexity. Having read Doddridge's "Rise and Progress of Religion
[p. 370]
in the Soul," he determined formally to dedicate himself to the Lord, in the manner recommended in the seventeenth chapter of that work. The form of a covenant, as there drawn up, he also adopted as his own; and, that he might bind himself in the most solemn and affecting manner, signed it with his blood. But afterwards, failing in his engagements, he was plunged into great distress, and almost into despair. On a review of his covenant, he seems to have accused himself of a Pharisaical reliance upon the strength of his own resolutions; and therefore, taking the paper to the top of his father’s house, he tore it into small pieces, and threw it from him to be scattered by the wind. He did not however consider his obligation to be the Lord's as hereby nullified; but, feeling more suspicion of himself, he depended solely upon the blood of the cross.

After this he was baptized, and became a member of the Baptist church at Plymouth, the ministers and members of which, in a few years, perceived in him talents for public work. Being solicited by both his pastors, he exercised as a probationer; and receiving a unanimous call from the church, entered on the work of the ministry in November, 1786. Soon after this he went to the academy at Bristol, then under the superintendence of Dr. Caleb Evans.

Mr. Birt, now pastor of the Baptist church, in the Square, Plymouth Dock, in a letter to the compiler of these Memoirs, thus speaks of him: — "Though he was, so far as I know, the very first-fruits of my ministry on my coming hither, and though our friendship and affection for each other were great and constant, yet previously to his going to Bristol I had but few opportunities of conversing with him, or of making particular observations on him. All who best knew him, however, well remember and most tenderly speak of his loving deportment; and those who attended the conferences with him soon received the most impressive intimations of his future eminence as a minister of our Lord Jesus Christ."*

"Very few," adds Mr. Birt, "have entered upon and gone through their religious profession with more exalted piety or warmer zeal than Samuel Pearce; and as few have exceeded him in the possession and display of that charity which 'suffereth long, and is kind, that envieth not, that vaunteth not itself, and is not puffed up, that doth not behave itself unseemly, that seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, that beareth all things, believeth all things, endureth all things.' But why should I say this to you? You know him yourself."

While at the academy he was much distinguished by the amiableness of his spirit and behaviour. It is sometimes observable, that where the talents of a young man are admired by his friends, and his early efforts flattered by crowded auditories, effects have been produced which have proved fatal to his future respectability and usefulness. But this was not the case with Mr. Pearce. Notwithstanding the popularity which even at that early period attended his ministerial exercises, his tutors have more than once remarked that he never appeared to them to be in the least elated, or to have neglected his proper studies; but was uniformly the serious, industrious, docile, modest, and unassuming young man.

Towards the latter end of 1789, he came to the church in Cannon Street, Birmingham, to whom he was recommended by Mr. Hall, now of Cambridge, at that time one of his tutors. After preaching to them awhile on approbation
----------------------------
* The excellent and venerable Isaiah Birt, about fourteen years after the death of Mr. Pearce, succeeded him in the pastoral office at Birmingham. His piety, public spirit, and success endeared him to a very large circle of friends, and make his name fragrant now that he has joined Pearce, and Fuller, Hall and Ryland and the rest of his early companions on earth, in a better world. — B.
[p. 371]
he was chosen to be their pastor. His ordination was in August, 1790. Dr. Evans gave the charge, and the late venerable Mr. Hall, of Arnsby, delivered an address to the church on the occasion.

About two months after this he wrote to his friend Mr. Summers. Whether the sentiments contained in that letter arose from the recollection of his late solemn engagement is uncertain; but they were certainly very appropriate to the occasion. Requesting his friend to pray for him, he says, — "Paul speaks of blessings received through the prayers of his fellow Christians; no wonder, therefore, he so often solicits their continuance. But if it be well to be interested in the prayers of fellow Christians, how much more to believe the great High Priest of our profession, Jesus the Son of God, is gone into the holy of holies, with our names on his breastplate, ever to plead in the presence of God for us — for us; O transporting thought! Who can doubt of the success of such an Intercessor?

"I have of late had my mind very pleasantly, and I hope profitably, exercised on this subject, more than ever, and find increasing pleasure from a well-grounded faith in the Divinity of my incarnate Advocate. I see the glory of his office, arising from the infinite extent of his knowledge, power, and love, as well as from the efficacy of his atoning sacrifice. I do not wonder at those men who deny the priestly office of Christ, when they have refused him the honours of Deity. I rejoice in that he who pleads for us knows our wants individually, as well as the necessities of the whole church collectively. Through his intercession alone I expect my sins to be pardoned, my services accepted, and my soul preserved, guided, and comforted; and, with confidence in his intercession, I cannot doubt but I shall enjoy all. Oh how sweet is it, my dear friend, to exercise a lively faith in a living Saviour! May you and I do this daily. Thus for us to live will be Christ, and to die gain; living or dying, we shall be the Lord's."

In this early stage of his ministry, redemption by the blood of Christ appears to have been his chosen theme. Writing to the same friend as above, on Sept. 30, 1791, he says, — "I have for my evening discourse the best subject in all the Bible — redemption, Eph. i. 7. How welcome to the captive! Forgiveness, how delightful to the guilty! Grace, how pleasing to the heart of a saved sinner! O my dear friend, how much do we lose of gospel blessings for want of realizing our personal concern with them! Hence it is that we are no more humble, thankful, watchful, prayerful, joyful. We view the glories of the gospel at a distance; and for want of that faith which is the substance of things hoped for, and evidence of things not seen, think too lightly of them. 'Lord, increase our faith!'"

In the year 1791 he married Miss Sarah Hopkins, daughter of Mr. Joshua Hopkins of Alcester, — a connexion which appears to have been all along a source of great enjoyment to him. The following lines addressed to Mrs. Pearce when he was on a journey, a little more than a year after their marriage, seem to be no more than a common letter; yet they show, not only the tenderness of his affection, but his heavenly-mindedness, his gentle manner of persuading, and how every argument was fetched from religion, and every incident improved for introducing it: —

Chipping Norton, August 15, 1792.
"I believe, on retrospection, that I have hitherto rather anticipated the proposed time of my return, than delayed the interview with my dear Sarah for an hour. But what shall I say, my love, now to reconcile you to my procrastinating my return for several days more? Why I will say — It appears I am called of God; and I trust the piety of both of us will submit and say, 'Thy will be done.'
[p. 372]
"You have no doubt perused Mr. Ryland's letter to me, wherein I find he solicits an exchange. The reason he assigns is so obviously important, that a much greater sacrifice than we are called to make should not be withheld to accomplish it. I therefore propose, God willing, to spend the next Lord's day at Northampton. I thought of taking tea with you this evening: that would have been highly gratifying to us both; but it must be our meat and drink to do and submit to the will of our heavenly Father. All is good that comes from him, and all is done right which is done in obedience to him. Oh to be perfectly resigned to his disposal — how good is it! May you, my dearest Sarah, and myself, daily prove the sweetness of this pious frame of soul: then all our duties will be sweet, all our trials will be light, all our pleasures will be pure, and all our hopes sanctified.

"This evening I hope to be at Northampton. Let your prayers assist my efforts on the ensuing sabbath. You will, I trust, find in Mr. R. a ship richly laden with spiritual treasures. Oh for more supplies from the exhaustless mines of grace!"

The soul of Mr. Pearce was formed for friendship; it was natural therefore to suppose that, while engaging in the pursuit of his studies at the academy, he would contract religious intimacies with some of his brethren; and it is worthy of notice, that the grand cement of his friendship was kindred piety. In the two following letters, addressed to his friend Mr. Steadman, the reader will perceive the justness of this remark, as well as the encouraging prospects which soon attended his labours at Birmingham:

"MY VERY DEAR BROTHER, May, 9, 1792.
"You live so remote that I can hear nothing of your prosperity at Broughton. I hope you are settled with a comfortable people, and that you enjoy much of your Master’s presence, both in the study and in the pulpit. For my part, I have nothing to lament but an insensible, ungrateful heart, and that is sufficient cause for lamentation. This, only this, bows me down; and under this pressure I am ready to adopt the words I preached from last evening — 'Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away and be at rest.'

"As a people we are generally united; I believe more so than most churches of the same dimensions. Our number of members is about 295, between forty and fifty of whom have joined us since I saw you, and most of them I have the happiness of considering as my children in the faith. — There is still a crying out amongst us after salvation; and still, through much grace, it is my happiness to point them to 'the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world.'

"In preaching, I have often peculiar liberty; at other times barren. I suppose my experience is like that of most of my brethren; but I am not weary of my work. I hope still that I am willing to spend and be spent, so that I may win souls to Christ, and finish my course with joy: but I want more heart religion; I want a more habitual sense of the Divine presence; I want to walk with God as Enoch walked. There is nothing that grieves me so much, or brings so much darkness on my soul, as my little spirituality, and frequent wanderings in secret prayer. I cannot neglect the duty; but it is seldom that I enjoy it.

'Ye that love the Lord indeed,
Tell me, is it so with you?'

When I come to the house of God, I pray and preach with freedom. Then I think the presence of the people seems to weigh more with me than the presence of God, and deem myself a hypocrite, almost ready to leave my
[p. 373]
pulpit, for some more pious preacher. But the Lord does own the word; and again I say, If I go to hell myself, I will do what I can to keep others from going thither; and so in the strength of the Lord I will.

"An observation once made to me helps to support me above water: — 'If you did not plough in your closet, you would not reap in the pulpit.' And again I think, 'the Lord dwelleth in Zion, and loveth it more than the dwellings of Jacob.'"

"Feb. 1, 1793.

"The pleasure which your friendly epistle gave me rises beyond expression; and it is one of the first wishes of my heart ever to live in your valued friendship. Accept this, and my former letters, my dear brother, as sufficient evidences of my ardent wishes to preserve, by correspondence, that mutual remembrance of each other which on my part will ever be pleasurable, and on yours, I hope, never painful.

"But, ah, how soon may we be rendered incapable of such an intercourse! When I left Bristol, I left it with regret. I was sorry to leave my studies to embark, inexperienced as I am, on the tempestuous ocean of public life, where the high blowing winds, and rude noisy billows, must more or less inevitably annoy the trembling voyager. Nor did it make a small addition to my pain that I was to part with so many of my dear companions, with whom I had spent so many happy hours, either in furnishing or unburdening the mind. I need not say, amongst the first of these I considered Josiah Evans.* But ah, my friend, we shall see his face no more! Through Divine grace I hope we shall go to him; but he will not return to us. ‘He wasted away, he gave up the ghost, and where is he?’ I was prepared for the news because I expected it. The last time I heard directly from him was by a very serious and affectionate letter, which I received, I think, last September. To it I replied; but received no answer. I conjectured — I feared; and now my conjectures and fears are all realized. Dear departed youth! Thy memory will ever be grateful to this affectionate breast. May thy amiable qualities live again in thy surviving friend, that, to the latest period of his life, he may thank God for the friendship of Josiah Evans!

"I assure you, my dear Steadman, I feel, keenly feel, the force of the sentiment which Blair thus elegantly expresses:

'Of joys departed, ne'er to be recalled,
How painful the remembrance!"

"But I sorrow not as one without hope. I have a twofold hope; I hope he is now among the spirits of the just made perfect, and that he will be of the blessed and holy number who have part in the first resurrection; and I hope also, through the same rich, free, sovereign, almighty, matchless grace, to join the number too. Pleasing thought! Unite to divide no more!

"I preached last night from Revelation xxi. 6, 'I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely.' I took occasion to expound the former part of the chapter, and found therein a pleasure inexpressible; especially when speaking from the first verse — 'and there was no more sea.' The first idea that presented itself to me was this — There shall be no bar to intercourse. Whether the thought be just, or not, I leave with you and my hearers to determine; but I found happy liberty in illustrating it. What is it that separates one nation, and one part of the globe, from another? Is it not the sea? Are not Christians, though all of one family, the common Father of which is God, separated by this sea, or that river, or the other stream below? Yes; but they are one family still. There shall be none of
-----------------------
* See a brief account of him, given in part by Mr. Pearce, in Dr. Rippon's Register, Vol. I. pp. 512-516.
[p. 374]
these obstructions to communion, of these bars to intercourse; nothing to divide their affections or disunite their praise for ever. -- Forgive my freedoms. I am writing to a friend, to a brother."

There are few, if any, thinking men but who at some seasons have had their minds perplexed with regard to religious principles, even those which are of the greatest importance. In the end, however, where the heart is right, such exercises commonly issue in a more decided attachment to the truth. Thus it was with Mr. Pearce. In another part of the above letter, he thus writes to his friend Steadman: — "I have, since I saw you, been much perplexed about some doctrinal points, both Arminian and Socinian, I believe through reading very attentively, but without sufficient dependence on the Spirit of truth, several controversies on those subjects; particularly the writings of Whitby, Priestley, and others. Indeed, had the state of mind I was in about ten weeks since continued, I should have been incapable of preaching with comfort at all. But in the mount of the Lord will he be seen. Just as I thought of giving up, He who hath the hearts of all men in his hand, and turneth them as the rivers of water are turned, was pleased, by a merciful though afflicting providence, to set me at a happy liberty.

"I was violently seized with a disorder very rife here, and which carried off many, supposed to be an inflammation in the bowels. One sabbath evening I felt such alarming symptoms that I did not expect to see the Monday morning. In these circumstances I realized the feelings of a dying man. My mind had been so accustomed to reflect on virtue and moral goodness, that the first thing I attempted was a survey of my own conduct; my diligence and faithfulness in the ministry, my unspotted life, &c. &c. But, ah, vain props these for dying men to rest on! Such heart sins, such corruptions, and evil propensities, recurred to my mind, that if ever I knew the moment ,when I felt my own righteousness to be as loathsome and filthy rags, it was then. And where should I, where could I, where did I flee, but to Him whose glory and grace I had been of late degrading, at least in my thoughts? Yes, there I saw peace for guilty consciences was to be alone obtained through an almighty Saviour. And oh, wonderful to tell, I again came to him; nor was I sent away without the blessing. I found him full of all compassion, ready to receive the most ungrateful of men.

'Oh to grace how great a debtor;
Daily I’m constrained to be!'

Thus, my dear brother, was the snare broken, and thus I escaped.

'A debtor to mercy alone,
Of covenant mercy I sing.'

Join with me in praising Him who remembered me in my low estate, because his mercy endureth for ever. Yet this is among the all things. I have found it has made me more spiritual in preaching. I have prized the gospel more than ever, and hope it will be the means of guarding me against future temptations."

From his first coming to Birmingham, his meekness and patience were put to the trial by an Antinomian spirit which infected many individuals, both in and out of his congregation. It is well known with what affection it was his practice to beseech sinners to be reconciled to God, and to exhort Christians to the exercise of practical godliness; but these were things which they could not endure. Soothing doctrine was all they desired. Therefore it was that his ministry was traduced by them as Arminian, and treated with neglect and contempt. But, like his Divine Master, he bore the contradiction of sinners against himself, and this while he had the strongest
[p. 375]
satisfaction that, in those very things to which they objected, he was pleasing God. And though he plainly perceived the pernicious influence of their principles upon their own minds, as well as the minds of others, yet he treated them with great gentleness and long forbearance; and when it became necessary to exclude such of this description as were in communion with him, it was with the greatest reluctance that he came into that measure, and not without having first tried all other means in vain. He was not apt to deal in harsh language; yet, in one of his letters about that time, he speaks of the principles and spirit of these people as a "cursed leaven."

Among his numerous religious friendships, he seems to have formed one for the special purpose of spiritual improvement. This was with Mr. Summers of London, who often accompanied him in his journeys; to whom, therefore, it might be expected he would open his heart without reserve. Here, it is true, we sometimes see him, like his brethren, groaning under darkness, want of spirituality, and the remains of indwelling sin; but frequently rising above all, as into his native element, and pouring forth his ardent soul in expressions of joy and praise. — On Aug. 19, 1793, he writes thus: —

"MY DEAR BROTHER,
"When I take my pen to pursue my correspondence with you, I have no concern but to communicate something which may answer the same end we propose in our annual journeys, viz. lending some assistance in the important object of getting and keeping nearer to God. This, I am persuaded, is the mark at which we should be continually aiming, nor rest satisfied until we attain that to which we aspire. I am really ashamed of myself, when, on the one hand, I review the time that has elapsed since I first assumed the Christian name, with the opportunities of improvement in godliness which have crowded on my moments since that period; and when, on the other, I feel the little advance I have made! More light, to be sure, I have; but light without heat leaves the Christian half dissatisfied. Yesterday, I preached on the duty of engagedness in God's service, from Jeremiah xxx. 21, 'Who is this that engaged his heart to approach unto me? saith the Lord' (a text for which I am indebted to our last journey). While urging the necessity of heart religion, including sincerity and ardour, I found myself much assisted by reflecting on the ardour which our dear Redeemer discovered in the cause of sinners. 'Ah,' I could not help saying, 'if our Saviour had measured his intenseness in his engagements for us, by our fervency in fulfilling our engagements to him, — we should have been now further from hope than we are from perfection.'

'Dear Lord, the ardour of thy love
Reproves my cold returns.'

"Two things are causes of daily astonishment to me: — The readiness of Christ to come from earth to heaven for me; and my backwardness to rise from earth to heaven with him. But, oh, how animating the prospect! A time approaches when we shall rise to sink no more; to 'be for ever with the Lord.' To be with the Lord for a week, for a day, for an hour; how sweetly must the moments pass! But to be for ever with the Lord, -- that enstamps salvation with perfection; that gives an energy to our hopes, and a dignity to our joy, so as to render it unspeakable and full of glory! I have had a few realizing moments since we parted, and the effect has been, I trust, a broken heart. O my brother, it is desirable to have a broken heart, were it only for the sake of the pleasure it feels in being helped and healed
[p. 376]
by Jesus! Heart-affecting views of the cursed effects of sin are highly salutary to a Christian's growth in humility, confidence, and gratitude. At once how abasing and exalting is the comparison of our loathsome hearts with that of the lovely Saviour! In him we see all that can charm an angel's heart; in ourselves all that can gratify a devil's. And yet we may rest perfectly assured that these nests of iniquity shall, ere long, be transformed into the temples of God; and these sighs of sorrow be exchanged for songs of praise.

"Last Lord's day I spent the most profitable sabbath to myself that I ever remember since I have been in the ministry; and to this hour I feel the sweet solemnities of that day delightfully protracted. Ah! my brother, were it not for past experience I should say,

'My heart presumes I cannot lose
The relish all my days.'

"But now I rejoice with trembling, desiring to 'hold fast what I have, that no man take my crown.' Yet fearing that I shall find how,

— 'Ere one fleeting hour is past,
The flattering world employs
Some sensual bait to seize my taste,
And to pollute my joys.'"

"In April, 1794, dropping a few lines to the compiler of these Memoirs, on a Lord's day evening, he thus concludes: — We have had a good day. I find, as a dear friend once said, it is pleasant speaking for God when we walk with him. Oh for much of Enoch's spirit! The Head of the church grant it to my dear brother, and his affectionate friend. — S. P."

In another letter to Mr. Summers, dated June 24, 1794, he thus writes: — "We, my friend, have entered on a correspondence of heart with heart; and must not lose sight of that avowed object. I thank you sincerely for continuing the remembrance of so unworthy a creature in your intercourse with Heaven; and I thank that sacred Spirit whose quickening influences, you say, you enjoy in the exercise. Yes, my brother, I have reaped the fruits of your supplications. I have been indulged with some seasons of unusual joy, tranquil as solitude, and solid as the Rock on which our hopes are built. In public exercises, peculiar assistance has been afforded; especially in these three things: — The exaltation of the Redeemer's glory – the detection of the crooked ways, false refuges, and self-delusions of the human heart – and the stirring up of the saints to press onward, making God's cause their own, and considering themselves as living not for themselves, but for Him alone.

"Nor hath the word been without its effect: above fifty have been added to our church this year, most of whom I rejoice in as the seals of my ministry in the Lord. Indeed, I am surrounded with goodness; and scarcely a day passes over my head but I say, Were it not for an ungrateful heart, I should be the happiest man alive; and that excepted, I neither expect nor wish to be happier in this world. My wife, my children, and myself, are uninterruptedly healthy; my friends kind; my soul at rest; my labours successful, &c. Who should be content and thankful if I should not? O my brother, help me to praise!"

In a letter to Mrs. Pearce, from Plymouth, dated September 2, 1794, the dark side of the cloud seems towards him: — "I have felt much barrenness," says he, "as to spiritual things, since I have been here, compared with my usual frame at home; and it is a poor exchange to enjoy the creature at the expense of the Creator's presence! A few seasons of spirituality I have enjoyed; but my heart, my inconstant heart, is too prone to rove from its
[p. 377]
proper centre. Pray for me, my dear, my dearest friend: I do for you daily. O wrestle for me, that I may have more of Enoch’s spirit! I am fully persuaded that a Christian is no longer really happy, and inwardly satisfied, than whilst he walks with God; and I would this moment rejoice to abandon every pleasure here for a closer walk with him. I cannot, amidst all the round of social pleasure, amidst the most inviting scenes of nature, feel that peace with God which passeth understanding. My thirst for preaching Christ, I fear, abates, and a detestable vanity for the reputation of a 'good preacher' (as the world terms it) has already cost me many conflicts. Daily I feel convinced of the propriety of a remark which my friend Summers made on his journey to Wales, that 'it is easier for a Christian to walk habitually near to God than to be irregular in our walk with him.' But I want resolution; I want a contempt for the world; I want more heavenly-mindedness; I want more humility; I want much, very much, of that which God alone can bestow. Lord, help the weakest lamb in all thy flock!

"I preached this evening from Canticles ii. 3, 'I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.' But how little love for my Saviour did I feel! With what little affection and zeal did I speak! I am by some praised. I am followed by many. I am respected by most of my acquaintance. But all this is nothing, yea, less than nothing, compared with possessing this testimony, that I please God. O thou Friend of sinners, humble me by repentance, and melt me down with love!

"To-morrow morning I set off for Launceston. I write to-night, lest my stay in Cornwall might make my delay appear tedious to the dear and deserving object of my most undissembled love. O my Sarah, had I as much proof that I love Jesus Christ as I have of my love to you, I should prize it more than rubies! As often as you can find an hour for correspondence, think of your more than ever affectionate. — S. P."

On the same subject, and the same occasion, about three weeks afterwards, (Sept. 23, 1794,) he wrote to Mr. Summers. His dissatisfaction with himself while spending his time in visits, and his satisfaction when engaged in his proper work, are well worthy of attention. "I was pretty much engaged in preaching," says he, "and often felt enlarged in public work; but, in private, my almost daily cry was, 'My leanness, my leanness!' Indeed it was a barren visit, as to the inward exercises of grace. Now and then I felt a brokenness of spirit, and a panting after God; but in general my mind was in a dissipated state. After so long an absence from so large an acquaintance, I was always crowded with company, some of whom, though amiable, were very gay. Their politeness and cheerfulness, joined with a high degree of indulgence, were too fascinating for my volatile mind. I admired, and was too much conformed to their spirit. I did indeed often struggle with myself, and watched for occasions of dropping some improving hint; but, either through want of opportunity or of fortitude, the hint seldom produced a long conversation, or a permanent effect. New visits, or excursions, were every day proposed, and my heart was continually divided between painful recollection and flattering hopes. One lesson, indeed, I have thoroughly learned — that real, solid satisfaction is to be found in nothing but God. May I have grace to improve it throughout my future life."

"The last week I have known more of the power of inward religion than all the four which I have spent from home. I devoted the week to my Lord's service entirely, and I found in keeping his commandments great reward.

In another letter to Mr. Summers, dated Nov. 10, 1794, he says — "I suppose I shall visit London in the spring prepare my way by communion both with God and man. I hope your soul prospers. I have enjoyed more of
[p. 378]
God within this month than ever since the day of my espousals with him. O my brother, help me to praise! I cannot say that I am quite so exalted in my frame to-day; yet still I acknowledge what I have lived upon for weeks — that were there no being or thing in the universe beside God and me, I should be at no loss for happiness. Oh,

'Tis heaven to rest in his embrace,
And no where else but there.'"
===============

Memoirs — Chapter II

[From Joseph Belcher, editor, The Complete Works of Andrew Fuller, Volume III, 1845, rpt. 1988; pp. 367-378. Document provided by David Oldfield, Post Falls, ID. — Formatted by Jim Duvall]


Samuel Pearce Index
British Baptists
Baptist History Homepage

1