It is a high gratification to the writer, and he trusts it will prove such to the reader, that he has the opportunity of enriching these 'Memorials' with Mr. Toller's description of the character of Mr.

Robins, as given in the closing part of this sermon, having transcribed it from the author's ma.n.u.script,[4] never before published.

[4] The ma.n.u.script was kindly lent to the author for this purpose by the family of the late Mr. Toller.

I have been this last week to a.s.sist in depositing in the dust one of the most amiable and excellent of men. There was not one friend present, I believe, but felt the weight of his worth, when his remains were let down into the silent grave, not excepting the clergyman who buried him--who, in a room full of Dissenting ministers, bore the most explicit and honourable testimony to his name. But there was a sense in which the person who now addresses you might, perhaps, with more propriety than any individual there, adopt and apply the peculiar language of the distressed prophet, "My father, my father!" I felt, when I stood by his grave, that I had lost a father--that I was interring a father; for I always looked up to him, and venerated and loved him, as a parent; for truly he had been a father to me. I was his senior student: the last and most important year of my academical course I spent under his roof and tuition: he taught and treated me as a son. It was owing to his advice, under G.o.d, that I am this day standing in this pulpit; his decided opinion had more weight with me than that of everybody else.

I did always implicitly confide in his judgment. I was sure of his prudence; could entirely trust his fidelity. On a hundred occasions have I experienced his tenderness and his kindness, and, blessed be G.o.d! never did I receive in all my intercourse a frown from him; while a hint, by way of reproof, from him, would have had more weight and gone further into my heart than a hundred stripes from another hand. And during all the thirty-four years which have elapsed since I left his roof, I have always secretly considered him as my princ.i.p.al, standing, stable friend, to whose judgment and kindness I could with most confidence look under any particular difficulty, exigency, or perplexity; so that you may suppose, under these circ.u.mstances, in connexion with the thought of having buried the greater part of the friends of my youth--you must suppose that, in attending such a funeral, I must have felt very peculiar sensations; that I was burying a friend indeed: I will not say the nearest and dearest by the ties of nature, for that is not true; but my most valuable, confidential, intellectual, religious, particular friend.

But not only were these sentiments excited by my own personal feeling; they were strengthened by the unanimous testimony of all who had any thorough intimacy with him--any comprehensive knowledge of his qualifications and character. I believe, never did any man go down to the grave followed by more genuine sentiments of respect from those that knew him, and were capable of appreciating his real worth.

There have been more brilliant, shining, striking, nay, useful characters than he (for during the last thirty years of his life Providence mysteriously laid him aside from a sphere of usefulness for which he was peculiarly adapted, and in which he gave universal satisfaction); but taking him altogether, considered as a whole, he was the most consistent, accurate character I ever knew in my life.

As a man, as a friend, a literary character, a person of general knowledge, an amiable, honourable, upright, uniform, devotional Christian, I never knew his equal. I can truly say, with an eminent London minister, "his was the completest character I ever knew."

Nor, in this sense, do I think he has left his equal behind him; there was such a coincidence, such a collection, such an a.s.semblage of excellences, which were always very striking to his friends.

Some people have great excellences of one kind, and great corresponding faults of another; but there was such a balance of qualities of everything in him, as I have often been charmed with and admired. Oh, that I could say more! And many and many a time have I left his company with this reflection: "Surely this is the disciple that Jesus loves; for where can I look round and find a man in so many respects so much like himself?" And that mixture of reverence and love which I have always experienced in his company has put me in mind of what I could not but suppose I must feel, only in a far greater degree, if I were admitted into the presence and to the conversation of the blessed Redeemer.

His fine sense, clearness of understanding, skill and dexterity in stating a subject or conducting an argument; the extent of his knowledge upon most subjects that could be called important or useful ones; and all this connected with the sweetness of his temper, the humility of his manner and deportment, the liveliness and affability of his address, what I may call the ingenuity as well as Christianity of his character;--for I have often heard it remarked, and often observed it myself, that were an absent person censured or slandered, if there was anything to be said in his favour Mr. Robins would find out what was to be said, and would make you see that it was not a blind and suppositious notion that dictated it, but that there was reason in what he said.

Nevertheless, he could be angry at sin, and yet sin not. He could reprove folly with a frown that a man must _be all a fool_ if he did not feel. It has been said, that some of his more distant relations, that were rather wild in their conduct, though they could not but love him, were more afraid of him than of any other man upon earth: such is the force of the frown of goodness. I this week heard a person say, that a frown from him would have gone deeper than from any man in the world.

Realizing, my friends, such traits as these, which I am sure n.o.body that knew him could or would contradict, in connexion with the richness and fulness of his piety, the evangelical and scriptural consistency of his sentiments, the depth of his love to the Saviour, his deep conviction of the truth of the Gospel and dependence upon it (for he died as a poor sinner, wholly resting there; and again, and again, and again said, What a poor miserable creature I should be without the Gospel!)--if he had been literally the very chief of sinners, he could not have seemed to depend less upon anything he was or had done in a meritorious sense; he would not even bear to hear any hints about his former qualifications as a minister, or his honourable conduct as a Christian, which all that knew him, knew his great Master would include under the final "Well done, good and faithful servant," and place among the "works of faith and labours of love," and never forget them:--if, I say, you realize all this, in connexion with his respectability, integrity, and punctuality as a tradesman since he became one, and his universal influence and weight in the town where he resided (a situation by no means advantageous to him in this respect as a Dissenter), can you wonder that one is charmed with such a character? Would it have been right that I should have pa.s.sed it by in silent contemplation for my own edification only?

When he was capable of exercising his ministerial function, there was a peculiar sweetness and gracefulness in his att.i.tude and delivery in the pulpit; great seriousness of air and manner, and a wonderful copiousness and variety and readiness, in his prayers; a vein of the most humble yet elevated piety running through the whole--an evangelical savour, clothed always with the utmost propriety and sometimes unaffected elegance of expression. Since he was laid aside from pulpit labours, if we could prevail upon him to pray at our ministers' meetings in private, it was the richest feast of the day; and in connexion with his disabled circ.u.mstances as to public work, he would sometimes dissolve all into tears. I remember, at the close of these occasions, a very respectable minister, with his eyes bathed in tears, whispered to me, "This man prays like an angel."

In his sermons, which were well finished compositions of their kind, there was this peculiarity--that they were highly acceptable and edifying to all descriptions of serious sensible people, among the poor and the rich, the learned and the unlearned--poor people that had good sense as well as piety, and learned people that had piety as well as good sense: all, in a word, who had good sense to understand him, and piety to relish what he said, used to love to hear Mr. Robins. The last time he ever preached within these walls (on which occasion he attempted to exert himself more than usual, owing to the largeness of the place compared with his own), he appears to have got his bane. He strained the organs of speech so as to bring on the disease that laid him aside. He preached on that pa.s.sage, "The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." I have often thought since, as redounding to the credit of this congregation, of the universal satisfaction which that sermon gave to all descriptions of well-disposed hearers--the plainest and most illiterate Christian, as well as those best informed. The case was this: though he was one of the finest of composers, yet he spake from the heart; and what he said went to the heart.

Since he was laid aside, though his usefulness was greatly curtailed, yet he was far from being useless. Modesty prevented his ever publishing any of his own compositions; yet as a friend, as an adviser, as a companion, he has been eminently useful. A respectable minister at his funeral said, "he never, with one exception only, gained so much instruction from any man in private conversation as from Mr. Robins."

Though laid aside from the service of the sanctuary, he lived respected and beloved to his seventy-seventh year; and when attended to his grave, not only was he accompanied by a number of as sincere mourners as ever followed a corpse, but the nearest earthly relation he had, and whom he had patronized from infancy, was utterly incapable of joining the train--sat weeping over her Bible, and almost stupified with grief, saying, "he was all the world to her: and him she had lost." Here is the cutting thought suggested in the text, that went nearer to the surviving prophet than any other--"his master was taken from his head," "and he saw him no more." This thought I felt when I stood close by his grave: "I shall see him no more. Here I take my final leave. I have received my last instruction. I shall hear his voice and behold his countenance no more." But while I was weeping over this clause, those words in the burial service went down with an emphasis to my heart, never felt by any grave before--words too promiscuously applied, too often; but their special appropriateness to him struck us all--"As much as it hath pleased Almighty G.o.d of his great goodness to take to himself the soul of our dear brother here departed, we commit his body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life." "Ah!" thought I, "you may say it in all its emphasis over this grave. I will not go away saying, with the prophet, 'I shall see him no more'; blessed be G.o.d for the hope that I shall see him again! Yea, thy brother, thy father, thy minister, thy tutor, thy friend, shall rise again.

May I but be honoured, O my Judge! with a place at thy right hand, and with such an addition to my happiness as to be joined in everlasting bonds of friendship with him I so much loved and honoured on earth, to improve and enjoy together to all eternity.

Amen."

Mr. Thomas Belsham, who had been a.s.sistant tutor here in metaphysics, mathematics, and natural history, till 1778, when he settled at Worcester, succeeded Mr. Robins in 1781, and returned to Daventry, at the solicitation of the congregation and the trustees, in the double capacity of pastor and princ.i.p.al or theological tutor. He continued here until 1789, when, having fully embraced Unitarian sentiments, his continuance in the office of tutor being directly contrary to the will of the founder of the academy, he apprized the trustees of the change, and resigned the situation. After this the academy returned again to Northampton.

Mr. Thomas Willis Paterson was the next pastor. He had recently completed his course of study here; but in 1796 he accepted an invitation from the congregations at Bardon Park and Ashby-de-la-Zouch, in Leicestershire, when he went to reside at Donnington-on-the-Heath, where he died in August, 1812.

Mr. John Morrell, afterwards LL.D., was chosen to succeed him, but removed in about two years, and became minister of a Unitarian Chapel at Brighton, in Suss.e.x.

Mr. George Watson was invited to the pastoral office in October, 1799.

He was a native of Kettering; and, becoming early decided for the Saviour, he devoted himself to the work of the ministry. He became a member of the Church at Kettering, under the ministry of Mr. Boyce. In the records of that Church we find this statement:--

_Sept. 3rd, 1772._--At our Church-meeting, George Watson, son of Mr.

Wm. Watson, our clerk, who had before dedicated himself to the work of the ministry and entered upon a course of preparatory studies for it, having in writing given an account of the dealings of G.o.d with his soul, was admitted to full communion with us.

He pursued his studies in the academy at Daventry; was first settled at Howick, in Lancashire; afterwards became a.s.sistant preacher to the Rev.

Thomas Taylor, of Carter Lane, London, from whence he was invited to this congregation, over which he presided until 1816, when he resigned and went to reside at Birmingham, where he died, August 1st, 1817, in the 66th year of his age. He published 'Liberality to the Poor and Sick recommended, in a Sermon preached at Harwich for the benefit of the Manchester Infirmary, 1792'; 'A brief Memoir of the Rev. Thomas Robins, late of Daventry; with a Sketch of the Sermon preached May 26th, 1810, on occasion of his Death; and some Biographical additions.' The congregation was unsettled after this for two years, when Mr. John Whittenbury succeeded Mr. Watson in the pastoral office, and was ordained here February 8th, 1818. During his ministry two new galleries were added to the Meeting House.

Mr. Whittenbury, we learn, entered the academy at Rotherham in the year 1808, then under the able tuition of the late Dr. Williams. Having pa.s.sed through the usual course of study, he was first ordained at Darlington, July 28th, 1814, where he laboured with great a.s.siduity, and, although amidst many discouragements, not without some tokens of the divine blessing. He at length accepted an invitation to become the pastor of the Church at Daventry, and continued his labours here for eight years. He subsequently removed to a dest.i.tute congregation at Newport, Salop; from thence he went to Liverpool, in 1838, to endeavour to revive an interest that had fallen into decay. Failing in the accomplishment of this object, he then devoted his time and energies to promote the interests of the various religious societies connected with the town, particularly "the Town Mission," "the Seaman's Friend Society," and "Bethel Union," by the committees of which he was held in great esteem. He died January 3rd, 1845, aged 55 years.

Mr. J. Davis, the present minister, succeeded Mr. Whittenbury, becoming the pastor of this Church in the year 1826.

"In 1728, the congregation purchased a house in Sheaf Street for the residence of the minister, which was rebuilt by subscription at the time Dr. Ashworth erected the adjoining house for the academy. The Meeting House, which stands in the minister's yard, is approached from the street through a gateway, and is a substantial stone building, 42 feet long by 42 feet wide." It has now three galleries.

During the ministry of the present pastor, new school-rooms have been erected.

The present number of communicants is 94. There are 190 children in the Sabbath-schools.

There are some endowments connected with this place; one, of 12 per annum, towards the support of a Charity-school for boys and girls.

CHAPTER IX.

MEMORIALS OF THE INDEPENDENT CHURCHES IN WELLINGBOROUGH.

SECTION 1.--THE CHURCH AT CHEESE LANE.

Where the events relating to the early history of a community have not been put upon record about the time they occurred, or where the records, when made, have been subsequently neglected and lost, it becomes scarcely possible to discover its origin, or to obtain any correct information relating to its progress.

This is the case, we regret to state, with the Independent Church, Cheese Lane, Wellingborough; it appears to be scarcely possible now to discover the date of its origin, or the circ.u.mstances under which it was formed.

In Wellingborough and its vicinity there were ministers of Christ, 190 years ago, who belonged to that n.o.ble band of worthies who renounced their worldly prospects in connexion with the Church by law established, rather than violate the dictates of conscience, on the pa.s.sing of the Act of Uniformity in the year 1662.

Before the days of the ejected ministers, there resided at the village of Wilby, little more than two miles from Wellingborough, Mr. Andrew Perne, A.M., a worthy Puritan minister. He was born in 1596; was chosen Fellow of Katherine Hall, Cambridge, where he probably received his education. Having finished his studies at the University, he became rector of Wilby, in Northamptonshire, where he continued a laborious, faithful, and successful preacher, 27 years. He often preached before the Parliament, and several of his sermons were published, one of which is ent.i.tled, 'Gospel Courage; or, a Christian Resolution for G.o.d and his Truth. In a Sermon preached before the Honourable House of Commons, at Margerett's, Westminster, at a public Fast, the 21st of May, 1643.'

Being called up to London, he gained a high reputation, and was offered considerable preferments; but he refused them all, resolving to return to his charge at Wilby. He appears to have been a man of considerable eminence and great usefulness. His awakening sermons, and exemplary life and conversation, produced a signal and happy reformation; his people revered and loved him as a father. "He was full of spiritual warmth,"

says Mr. Ainsworth, one of the ejected ministers, who preached and published his funeral sermon, "filled with a holy indignation against sin, active in his work, and never more in his element than when he was in the pulpit." "As his life was holy, so his death was happy." He blessed G.o.d that he was not afraid to die; nay, he earnestly desired to be gone, and often cried out, during his last sickness, "When will that hour come? One a.s.sault more, and this earthen vessel will be broken, and I shall be with G.o.d."

His remains were interred in the chancel of Wilby Church, where at the foot of the altar is the following monumental inscription to his memory:--

Here lieth interred MR. ANDREW PERNE, a faithful servant of Jesus Christ; a zealous owner ever of G.o.d's cause in perilous times; a powerful and successful preacher of the Gospel; a great blessing to this town and country, where he lived twenty-seven years.

He departed, December 13, 1654.

The influence of the ministry and character of Mr. Perne would no doubt extend to the town of Wellingborough, and might be one means of producing that regard for the principles of the Gospel and the purity of the Church that actuated the early Nonconformists, who had many of them to suffer much for the principles which they maintained, and the course they conscientiously pursued.

A Mr. Thomas Andrews, of the University of Cambridge, was ejected from the vicarage of Wellingborough. The living was given to him by the Lord or Lady Brooke. While he continued in it, he was generally respected by the ministers of his neighbourhood, twelve of whom took their turn at his weekly lecture on a Wednesday.

His frugality, while he continued the inc.u.mbent, saved him some hundreds of pounds, so that he was better provided for after his ejectment than many of his brethren. When cast out of his living, he repaired to Meers Ashby, where he preached at a Mr. Preston's, in the night. He often preached also at Lady Tyrrell's. He was a man of great courage, agreeable behaviour, and much beloved by his neighbours.

There was also a Mr. Alsop, ejected from the living of Wilby, near Wellingborough, who came and resided here after his ejectment, and exercised his ministry as the times would permit. It is recorded that he was bound over to the sessions for preaching at Oakham, and that he lay six months in Northampton Gaol for praying with a sick person.

Mr. Rowlet, ejected from Sudbury, in this county, appears to have united with Mr. Alsop in his labours. In the time of King Charles's Indulgence, there was a meeting every Lord's-day at Wellingborough, upheld by Mr.

Alsop and Mr. Rowlet, and the latter continued preaching here until removed by death. His const.i.tution was feeble, for Mr. Alsop said of him, "If this man had but a body to his soul, he would be incomparable."

He is represented by such as attended on his ministry and knew him well, as a most agreeable preacher, who used to charm his hearers. He died of consumption.

Mr. Henry Wills, who had been rector of Loddington, in this county, is said to have preached privately (probably in some retired place, or in the silent hours of the night) to the people of Wellingborough, where his memory was exceedingly precious for a long time, especially for two things--the extraordinary suitableness of his compositions to the minds of the weakest, notwithstanding the fulness and depth of his matter, and the great piety and refreshing savour which seasoned his common conversation. It is related concerning him, that "he was an able scholar, a considerable mathematician, of great skill in the law, an eminent preacher, and of a most agreeable carriage."

How early an Independent Church was first formed here, from which this in Cheese Lane descended, or when a stated pastor was first settled over it, we have not discovered.